 14. In which David visits the bishop, and Frail sees his enemy. The bishop was seated in a deep canvas chair on his wide veranda, looking out over his garden toward a distant line of blue hills. His little wife sat close to his side on a low rocker, very busy with the making of buttonholes in the small girl's frock of white dimity and lace. Betty Towers loved lace and pretty things. The small girl was playing about the garden paths with her puppy, and chattering with Frail in her high happy childish voice while he bent weeding among the beds of okra and eggplant. His face wore a more than usually discontented look, even when answering the child with teasing banter. Now and then he lifted his eyes from his work, and watched furtively the movements of David Thrin, who was pacing restlessly up and down the long veranda in earnest conversation with the bishop and his wife. The two in the garden could not understand what was being said at the house, but each party could hear the voices of the other, and by calling out a little could easily converse across the dividing hedge in the intervening space. Talk about the influence of the beautiful in nature upon the human soul. It is all very pretty, but I believe the soul must be more or less enlightened to feel it. I've learned a few things among your people up there in the mountains. Strange beings they are. It only goes to show that Heredity alone won't do everything, said the bishop, placing the tips of his fingers together and frowning meditatively. Heredity? It means a lot to us over there in England. Yes, yes. But your old families need a little new blood in them now and then, even if they have to come over here for it. For that and your money, yes, Thrin laughed. But these mountain people of yours, who are they anyway? Most of them are of as pure a strain of British as any in the world, as any you will find at home. They have their Heredity, and only that, from all your classes over there. But it is from those of a hundred or more years ago. They are the unmixed descendants of those you sent over here for gain, drove over by tyranny, or exported for crime. How unmixed in your most horribly mixed and mongrel population? Circumstances and environment have kept them to the pure stock, and neglect has left them untrammeled by civilization and unaided by education. Time and generations of ignorance have deteriorated them, and nature alone, as you were just now admitting, has hardly served to arrest the process by the survival of the fittest. Nature, yes. How do you account for it? I have been in the grandest, most wonderful places, I venture to say, that are to be found on earth, and among all the glory that nature can throw around a man. He is still, if left to himself, more bestial than the beasts. He destroys and defaces and defiles nature. He kills for the mere sake of killing more than he needs. He enslaves himself to his appetites and passions, follows them wildly, yields to them recklessly, and destroys himself in all the beauty around him that he can reach, wantonly. Why, Bishop Towers, sometimes I've gone out and looked up at the stars above me and wondered which was real, they and the marvelous beauty all around me, or the three hundred reeking humanity sleeping in the camp beneath them. Sometimes it seemed as if only hell were real, and the camp was a bit of it, let loose to mock at heaven. We mustn't forget that what is transitory is not a part of God's eternity of spirit and truth. Oh yes, yes, but we do forget, and some transitory things are mighty hard to endure, especially if they must endure for a lifetime. David was thinking of Cassandra, and what an all probability would be her doom. He had not mentioned her name, but he had come down with the intention of learning all he could about her, and if possible, to whom she was promised. He feared it might be the low-browed, handsome youth bending over the garden beds beyond the hedge, and his heart rebelled and cried out fiercely within him. What a waste, what a waste! Betty Towers, intent on her sewing, felt the thrill that intensified David's tone, and she too thought of Cassandra. She dropped her work in her lap, and looked earnestly in her husband's face. James, I feel just as Dr. Thring does when I think of some things. When I see a tragedy coming to a human soul, I feel that a lifetime of transitory things like that is hard to endure. Fancy James, think of Cassandra? You know her, Dr. Thring, of course. They live just below your place. She is the widow Farwell's daughter, but her name is Merlin. David arrested his impatient stride, and drawing a chair near her, dropped into it. What about her, he said? What is the tragedy? I think, Betty, the hills must keep their own secrets, said the bishop. His little wife compressed her lips, glanced over the hedge at the young man, who happened at the moment to have straightened from his bent position among the plants, and was gazing at their guest, then resumed her sewing. Is it something I must not be told? asked David quietly. But I may have my suspicions. Naturally, we can't help that. I think it is better to know the truth. I don't like suspicions. They are sure to lead to harm. James, let me put it to the doctor as I see it, and see what he thinks of it. As you please, dear. It's like this. Have you seen anything of that girl or observed her much? I certainly have. Then, of course, you can see that she is one of the best of the mountain people, can't you? Well, she has promised to marry, promised to marry, think of it, one of the wildest, most reckless of those mountain boys, one that she knows very well has been an illicit distilling. He is a lawbreaker in that way, and more than that, he drinks, and in a drunker row, he shot dead his friend. Ah, David Rose turned away, and again paced the piazza. Then he returned to his seat. I see the young man I tried to help off when I first arrived. Yes. There he is. I see. Handsome type. He's down there now, keeping quiet. How long it will last, no one knows. Justice is lax in the mountains. His father shot three or four men before he died himself of a gunshot wound which he received while resisting the officers of the law. If there's a man left in the family to follow this thing up, frail will be hunted down and arrested or shot. Otherwise, when things have cooled off a little up there, he'll go back and open up the old business and the tragedy will be repeated. James, you know how often after the best they can do and all their promises they go back to it. I admit it's always a question. They don't seem to be content in the low country. I think it is often a sort of natural gravitation back to the mountains where they were born and bred more than it is depravity. I know James, but that excuse won't help Cassandra. Why did she do it? asked David. She must have known to what such a marriage would bring her. Do it! That's the sort of girl she is. If she thought she ought, she would leap over that fall there. But why should she think she ought? Had she given her promise? David saw her as she appeared to him when she had said that word to him on the mountain. And it silenced him, but only for a moment. He would learn all he could of her motives now. He must, he would know. I mean before he did this, before she went away to study, had she made him such a promise? No. You tell him about it, James. You've seen her and talked with her. They were quarreling about her, as I understand. And she thinks, because she was the cause of the deed, she must help him make retribution. Isn't that it, James? She knows perfectly well what it means for her, for she has had her aspirations. I can see it all. Frail says he was not drunk, nor his friend either. He says the other man claimed, but I won't go into that. Only Cassandra promised him before God, he says, that if he would repent, she would marry him. And when she was here, she used to talk about the way those women live, how her own mother has worked and aged, or she's not yet sixty. You see how they live in their wretched little cabin's doctor. That's what Frail would doom her to. He never in life will understand her. You'll grow old like his father, a passionate, ignorant, untamed animal, and worse, for he would be drunken as well. He's been drunk twice since he came down here. James, you know they think it's perfectly right to get drunk Saturday afternoon. Yes, it seems a terrible waste. But if she has children, she will be able to do more for them than her mother has done for her, and they will have her inheritance. So her life can't be wholly wasted, even if she's not able to live up to her aspirations. James Towers. I—that—it's because you are a man that you can talk so. I am ashamed, and you a bishop. I wish Betty's eyes were full of angry tears. I only wish you were a woman. Slowly improve the race by bearing children, giving them her inheritance. How would she bear them, year after year? Ill-fed, half-clothed, slaving to raise enough to hold their souls in their bodies, bringing them into the world for a brute who knows only enough to make corn whiskey, to sell it and drink it, and reproduce his kind, when she knows all the time what ought to be. Oh, James, James, think of it. My dear, my dear, you forget he has promised to repent and live a different life. If he does, things will be better than we now see them. If he does not change, then we may interfere, perhaps. I know James, but—but suppose he repents and she becomes his wife and puts aside all her natural tastes and the studies she loves and goes on living with him there on the home-place, and he does the best he can even. Don't you see that her nature is fine and so different, even at the best, James? For her it will be death and life, and then there is a terrible chance, after all, that he might go back and be like his father before him, and then what? Well, their lives and destinies are not in our hands. We can only watch out for them and help them. James, he has been drunk twice. Yes, yes, Betty, my little tempest, and if he gets drunk twice more and twice more she will still forgive him until seventy times seven. We must make her see that unless he keeps his promise to her she must give him up. Of course. I suppose that's all we can do. I don't know what you'll think of me, Dr. Thring. I'm a dreadful scold if James were not an angel. If James were not an angel, it's perfectly delicious. I would rather hear you scold than hear James preach, left the bishop. I agree with you. I agree with her, said David emphatically. It ought to be stopped if it ought to be it will be. What do you think she said to me about it when I went to reason with her? If Christ can forgive and stand such as he, I can. It is laid on my soul to do this. I had no more to say. That is one point of view, but we mustn't lose sight of the practical either. To be his wife and bear his children I call it a waste of— Yes, yes, so it is. And what more could the bishop say? After a little he added, but still we must not forget that he too is a human soul and has a value as great as hers. According to your viewpoint, but not to mine, not to mine. If a man is enslaved to his own appetites, he has no right to enslave another to them. The following day David took himself back to his hermitage, setting aside all persuasions to remain. Don't make a recluse of yourself, beg the bishop's wife. The amenities of life can't always be dispensed with. And we need you, James and I, you and your music. David laughed. I'm too fatally human to become a recluse. And as for the amenities, they are not all of one order, you know. I find plenty of scope for exercising them on others, and I often submit to having them exercise on me, after their own ideas. He laughed again. I wish you could look into my larder. You'd find me provided with all the hills of Ford. They have loaded me with gifts. No wonder. I know what your life up there means to them, taking care of their mothers and babies and sitting up with them nights, going to them when they're in trouble, rain or shine, and vesting them in their bare, wretched, crowded homes. It wouldn't be so bad often if it weren't that when a family is in serious trouble or has a case needing quiet and care, the sympathies of all their relatives are roused and they come crowding in. In one case, the father was ill with pneumonia. I did all I could for him. And next day would you believe it? I found his sister and her old man and their three youngsters, his old mother and a brother and a widowed sister all in one room. The sister sat by the fire nursing her three-month-old baby, his mother was smoking at her side and the sick man's six little children and their three cousins were raising Ned in and out with three or four hounds. Not one of the visitors was helping or, as they say up there, doing a lick. But the wife was cooking for the whole raft when her husband needed all her care. Marvelous ideas they have, some of them. You ought to write out some of your experiences. Oh, I can't. It would seem like a sort of betrayal of friendship. They have adopted me, so to speak, and are so naive and kind and have trusted me. I think they are my friends. I may be very odd, you know. I know how you feel, said Daddy. The bishop's little daughter had assumed the proprietorship and she even preferred his companionship to that of her puppy. She clung to his hand as he walked away, pulling and swinging up on his arm to coax him back. He took her in his arms and carried her out upon the walk, the small dog barking and snapping at his heels, as David threatened to bear his tyrannical young mistress away to the station. Dog, you want you to leave me here? She cried, pounding him vigorously with her two little fists. He brought her back and placed her on the broad, flat top of the high gate post. Very well. Doggy may have you. I will leave you here. Doggy wants you to stay, too. She held him with her small arms around his neck. Well, Doggy can't have me. He unclenched her chubby hands, crossed them in her lap and held them fast while he kissed her tanned in a rogue, he said and strode away. Come and lift me down, she wailed. But he knew well she could scramble down by herself when she chose and walked on. She continued to call after him, then spying frail in the woodyard. She imperatively summoned him to her aid and trotted at his side back to the woodpile where they sat comfortably upon a log and visited together. They were the best of friends with each other as if both were children. In the slender shadow of a juniper tree that stood like a sentinel in the corner of the woodyard they sat where a high board fence separated them from the back street. The bishop's place was well planted and this corner had been the quarters of the house servants in slave times. It was one of frail's duties to pile here for winter use, the firewood which he cut in short lengths for the kitchen fire and long lengths for the open fireplaces. He hated the hampered village life and round of small duties, the weeding in the garden, cleaning of piazzas and windows and the sweeping of the paths. The wood cutting was not so bad but the rest he held and contempt as women's work. He longed to throw his gun in the hollow of his arm and tramp off over his own mountains. At night he often wept and wished he might spend the day tending still or lying on a ridge watching the trail below for intruders on his privacy. The joy of life had gone out of him. He thought continually of Cassandra and desired her and is so weary for her until he was tempted to go back to the mountains at all risks merely for a sight of her. Painfully he had tried to learn to write working at the copies that Betty Towers had set for him and certainly she had done all her conscientious heart prompted to interest him and keep him away from the village loungers. He had even progressed far enough to send two horribly spell missives to Cassandra feeling great pride in them and now he had begun to weary of learning. To be able to write those badly scrawled notes was in his eyes surely enough for his companions at home of what use was more. What's that you're tossing up in the air? Let me see it! demanded the child as frail tossed and caught again a small bright object. He kept on tossing it and catching it away from the two little hands stretched out to receive it. Give it to me! Give it to me frail! Let me see it! Don't you lose it. That there's something that's got a charm to it. What's a charm to it? I don't see any charm. Then frail laughed aloud. He took it with his thumb and forefinger and held it between his eye and the sun. Is that the way you see the charm to it? Let me try. But he slipped it in his pocket first placing it in a small bag which he drew up tightly with a string. It ain't nothing you can see. It's only a charm that makes it plum sure to kill anybody as it hits. It's plum sure to hit and plum sure to kill too. Oh frail! What if it had hit me when you threw it up that way and killed me? Then you'd be sorry. Wouldn't you frail? Hit wouldn't never kill a girl. A nice little girl like you be. It's charmed that away and it won't kill nobody that I don't want it to. Then what do you keep it in your pocket for? You don't want to kill anybody, do you frail? Nah, I reckon not. Not that I have to. But you don't have to, do you frail? Piped the child. He rose and selecting an armful of stove wood carried it into the shed and began packing it away. Dorothy sat still on the log. Her elbows on her knees. Her chin in her hands, meditating. A tall man slouched by and peered over the high-board fence at her. His eyes roved all about the place eagerly, keen and black. His matted hair hung long beneath his soft felt hat. The child looked up at him with fearless questioning glance then trotted into her friend. Frail! Did you see that man looking over the fence? You think he was looking for you, Frail? Come see you, Tiz. Perhaps he's a friend of yours. Dorothy, Dorothy, called her mother from the Piazza and the child bounded away, her puppy yelping and leaping at her side. The tall man turned at the corner and looked back at the child. The bishop's place occupied one corner of the block and the fence with a hedge beneath it ran the whole length of two sides, slowly sauntering along the second side. The gaunt, hungry-eyed man continued his way, searching every part of the yard and garden, even endeavoring with backward, furtive glances to see into the woodhouse where in the darkness Frail crouched. Once more pallid with abject fear, peering through the crack whereon its hinges the door swung half open. As the man disappeared down the straggling village street, Frail dropped down on the wheel-barrel and buried his haggard face in his hands. A long time he sat thus, until the dinner-hour was passed and Black Kerry had to send Dorothy to call him. Then he rose, but in the place of the white and haunted look was one of stubborn recklessness. He strolled to the house with a nonchalant air of one who fears no foes, but rather glories in meeting them and sat himself down at his place by the kitchen table where he bantered and badgered Kerry, who waited on him reluctantly with contemptuous tosses of her woolly head. From the day of his first appearance there had been war between them and now Frail knew that if the stranger asked her she would gladly and slyly inform against him. The afternoon wore on. Again Frail sat on the wheel-barrel thinking, thinking. He took the small bag from his pocket and felt of the bullet through the thin covering, then replaced it and drawing forth another bag began counting his money over and over. There it was, all he had saved. Five dollars in bills and a few quarters and dimes. He did not like to leave the shelter of the shed and his eyes showed only the narrow, glint of blue as with half-closed lids he still peered out and watched the street where his enemy had disappeared. Suddenly he rose and climbed with swift, cat-like movements up the ladder stairs behind him which led to his sleeping loft. There he rapidly dawned his best suit of dyed home-spun tied his few remaining articles of clothing in a large red kerchief and before a bit of mirror arranged his tie and hair to look as like as possible to the village youth of Farrington. The distinguishing silken lock that would fall over his brow had grown again since he had shorned it away in Dr. Thring's cabin. Now he thrust it well up under his soft-felt hat and taking his bundle descended. Again his eyes searched up and down the street and all about the house and yard before he ventured out in the daylight. Dorothy and her dog came bounding down the kitchen steps. She carried two great fried cakes in her little hands warm from the hot fat and she laughed with glee as she danced toward him. Frail! Frail! I stole these. I did. For you. I told Carrie I wanted two for you. And she said, Go long, child. She thrust them in his hands. What's the matter, Frail? What you all dressed up for? This isn't Sunday, Frail. Is they going to be a circus Frail, is they? She poured forth her questions rapidly as she hopped from one foot to the other. Will you take me, Frail, if it's a circus? I'll ask Mama. I want to see the elephant. Taint no circus. He replied grimly. What's the matter, Frail? Don't you like your fried cakes? Then why don't you eat them? What you wrapping them up for? You ought to say thank you when I bring you nice cakes that I went and stole for you. She remonstrated severely. His throat worked convulsively as he stood now looking at the child, on the street. Suddenly he lifted her in his arms and buried his face in her gingham apron. I had a little sister once. Only she's grown up now and she ain't my little sister anymore. He kissed her brown cheek tenderly even as David had done and sat her gently down on her two stubby feet. You run in and tell your Ma thank you for me, will you? Mine now. I'll tell you what you tell your Pa and Ma for me. Say, Frail seen a hound dog on his scent and he gone home to get shed of him. Where's the hound dog Frail? She gazed fearfully about. He's gone now. He won't bite. Not you, he won't. Oh, Frail. I wish it was a circus. Yes, draw the young man with a sullen smile curling his lips. Maybe it be a sort of circus. Can you remember what I told you to tell your Pa? You, you seen a hound dog on, on a scent. How could he be on a scent? Say, Frail seen a hound dog on his scent and he gone home to get shed of him. Frail seen a hound dog on, on a, on a scent. And, and he's gone home to get shed of him. What's get shed of him Frail? Never mind, honey. Your Pa'll know. Run in and tell him before you forget it. Goodbye. She danced gaily off toward the house but turned to call back at him as he stood watching her. Are you going to hit the hound dog with the pretty ball Frail? I reckon. He laughed and strode off toward the one small station in the opposite direction from the way the man had taken. Frail knew well where he had gone. On the outskirts of the village was a small grove of sycamore and gum trees by a little stream where it was the custom for the mountain people to camp with their canvas covered wagons. There they would build their fires on a charred place between stones and heat their coffee. There they would feed their oxen or mule team tied to the rear wheels of their wagons with corn thrown on the ground before them. At nightfall they would crawl under the canvas cover and sleep on the corn fodder within. Often beneath the fodder might be found a few jugs of raw corn whiskey hidden away while the articles they had brought down for sale or barter at the village stores were placed on top in plain view. Sometimes they brought vegetables or baskets of splints and willow wives made by their women or they might have a few yards of home-spun toweling. The man Frail had seen was the older brother of his friend Ferdinand Heasley and well Frail knew that he was camped with his ox team down by the spring where it had been his habit to serve darkness when he could steal forth and leave his jugs where the money might be found for them placed on some rock or stump or fallen trunk half concealed by laurel shrubs. How often had the products of Frail still been conveyed down the mountain by that same ox team in that same unwieldy vehicle? Giles Teasley's cabin in patch of soil planted always to corn was a long distance from his father's mill and also from his brother's still. Hence he could with the more safety dispose of their illicit drink. In the slow but deadly sure manner of his people he had but just aroused himself to the fact that his brother's murderer was still alive and the deed unevented. And Frail knew he had come now not to dispose of the whiskey since the still had been destroyed but to find his brother's slayer and accord him the justice of the hill. To the mountain people the processes of the law seemed vague and uncertain. They preferred their own methods a well loaded gun a sure aim and a few months of hiding among relatives and friends until the vigilance of the emissaries of the law had subsided was the rule for them. Thus had Frail's father twice escaped either prison or the rope and during the last four years he had never once ventured from his mountain home for a day at the settlements below while among his friends his prowess and his skill innovating pursuit were his glory. Now it was Frail's thought to dare the worst to walk to the station like any village youth by his ticket and take the train for Karoo's crossing and from there make his way to his haunt while yet Giles Teasley was taking his first sleep. He reasoned and rightly that his enemy would linger about several days searching for him and never dream of his having made his escape by means of the train since the first scurry of search was over it was no longer the offices of the law Frail feared but the same lank ill-favored mountaineer who was now warming his coffee and eating his raw salt pork and cornbread by the stream while his drooling cattle stood near sleepily chewing their cuds End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of The Mountain Girl This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Mary Herndon Bell The Mountain Girl by Payne Erskine Chapter 15 In which Jerry Carew gives David his views on future punishment and Little Hoyle pays him a visit and is made happy Uncle Jerry Carew had led David's horse down to the station ready saddled to meet him according to agreement and side by side they rode back of mountain affairs most interesting to the young doctor who led him on from tales of his own youthful prowess when catamounts and painters were nigh as frequent as woodchucks is now until he felt he knew pretty well the history of all the mountainside Yes, when I were a lilin no hired in my horse's knees I can remember there were a gathering for a catamount hunt where mighty pestering critters them days every man able to toad a gun were there old man Caswell that were Miss Merlin she were only a might of a baby then her grandpa he were the oldest man in the country he went and carried his rifle his paw fit in the revolution with he fit at Kings Mountain and all about here he fit did he fight in the Civil War too her grandpa's paw no he were too old for that but his grandson Caswell he fit in it and he never come back neither old Miss Caswell Cassandre Merlin's grandma she lived a widow nigh on to 30 year she and her daughter that's old Miss Farwell that is now they lived there and managed the place you knew her first husband then yes know him everybody knew Thad Merlin he come from over Pisco way and he took Marthy there it's quare how things goes I always like Thad Merlin there weren't no harm in him David saw a quaint whimsical smile play about the old man's mouth he were a preacher kind of a mixture of a preacher and teacher and hunter couldn't anybody beat him hunting and farming well he could farm too better than most he done well whatever he done but he had a right quare way he built that there rock wall and he loud he'd have it run plum round the place he were a fiddler and he'd build a while and fetch his fiddle he weren't right strong and then he'd sat there on the wall and fiddle to the birds and the creatures they'd come and hear to him I seen squirrels setting on end harking to hear him myself after a while folks begun to think and he didn't preach the right kind of religion and they wouldn't go to hear him no more without it were to listen did he say anything they could find fought with peers like they got in that way they didn't go for nothing else hit clare plum broke him all up he quit preaching and took more to fiddling and he sort of grew puny and one day just naturally laid down and died all for nothing at anybody could see what was the matter with his preaching asked David and again the whimsical smile played around the old man's mouth and his thin lips twitched I reckon there weren't enough hell and damnation in it our people here in the mountains they are right kind they don't whop their children nor do nothing much except to shoot now and then but that's only amongst the men the women tends mostly to the religion and they like a heap of hell and damnation it sort of stirs them up and gives them something to chaw on and keeps them contented like they have something to threaten their men folks with and keep the chilling straight on and a place to send their neighbors to when they don't suit for the women I reckon they couldn't get on without it do they think they will have bodies that can be hurt by any such thing in the next world well I reckon so but preacher Merlin he said that there were paths of light and paths of darkness and that every man he bided right where he were at when he died if he had took the path of darkness there he was in it but if he took the path of light then he was there and he said the Lord never made no hell it were just our own cells made such as that and he took and cut that their place clear plum out in the scriptures and the world to come but he sure had a heap of learning only some said a sight on it were he then and that were why he left all the hell and damnation out in his religion thus enlightened concerning many things both of this particular bit of mountain world which was all the world to his companion the world to come Tring rode on quietly amused sometimes he dismounted to investigate plants new to him are to gather a bit of moss or fungi or parasite anything that promised an elucidating hour with his splendid microscope for these he always carried at the pommel of his saddle an airtight box the mountain people supposed he collected such things for the compounding of his drugs in a small place david continued along the main road below and took a trail farther on merely a foot trail little used to his airy he had not seen Cassandra since they had walked together down from hope balloons place he had gone to farrington partly to avoid seeing her nor did he wish to see her again until he should have so mastered himself as to betray nothing by his manner that might embarrass her or remind her painfully of their last interview knowing he must eliminate self to reestablish their previous relations david rode directly to his log stable put up his horse then unslung his box and walked with it toward his cabin suddenly he stopped from the thick shrubbery where he stood he could see in at the large window where his microscope was placed quite through his cabin into the light white canvas room beyond before the fireplace david relieved against the whiteness of the farther room stood Cassandra gazing intently at something she held in her hand david recognized it as a small framed picture of his mother a delicately painted miniature he kept it always on the shelf near where she was standing he saw her reach up and replace it then brush her hand quickly across her eyes and knew she had been weeping he was ashamed to stand there but he could not move always it seemed to him she was being presented to him thus strongly against a surrounding halo of light revealing every gracious line of her figure and her sweet clean profile he turned his eyes away but as quickly gazed again she had disappeared he waited and again she passed between his eyes and the light moving quietly about his order as her custom was when she knew him to be absent he saw her brushing about the hearth carefully wiping the dust from his disordered table lifting the books touching everything tenderly and lightly his flute lay there she took it in her hands and looked down at it solemnly then slowly raised it to her lips what was she going to try to play upon it no but she kissed it again and again she kissed the slender magic wand hurriedly then laid it very gently down and with one backward glance walked swiftly out of the cabin and away from him down the trail with long easy steps only once more she drew her hand across her eyes and with head held high moved rapidly on never did she look to the right or the left as she was carefully breathing and hard beset to hold himself back and allow her to pass him thus now he knew that she had been deeply stirred by him and the revelation fell upon his spirit filling him with a joy more intense than anything he had ever felt or experienced before so poignantly sweet that it hurt him had he indeed entered into her dreams and become an undercurrent in her life even as she had in his and did her soul and body ache for him as his for her then he suffered remorse for what he had done how long she had defended herself by that wall of impersonality with which she had surrounded herself he had beaten down the ramparts and trampled in the garden of her soul as he stood in the door of his cabin the place seemed to breathe of her presence she had made a veritable gift for his return every sweet thing she had gathered for him as if out of her love and her sorrow she had meant to bring him and a special blessing a shallow basin filled with wild forget-me-nots stood on the shelf before his mother's picture ferns and vines fell over the stone mantle and in earthen jars of mountain wear the early rhododendrum with its delicate pearly pink blossoms plumbed white ash shook feathery tassels along the walls making the air sweet with their fragrance ah how clean and fresh everything was all his disorder was set to rights and fresh linen was on his bed in his canvas room even his table was laid with his small store of dishes and food placed upon it still covered in the basket he was now so accustomed to see sweet and dainty it all was he had only to light the fat pine sticks laid beneath the kettle swung above and make his tea and his meal was ready had she divined he would not stop at the fall place this time when in the past it had been his custom to do so ah she knew for is not the little winged god a wonderful teacher Thring was humbled in the very dust and ashes of repentance as he sat down to his late dinner the fragrance in the room filled his senses everything he touched filled his senses with her and he he had only brought her sorrow he had come into her life but to bruise her spirit and leave her sad at heart with a deep sadness he dared not and could not alleviate he lifted a pale purple orchid she had placed in a tumbler at his hand and examined it evidently and had placed it there a sweet message what should he do ah what could he do he must not see her yet at least not until tomorrow later David brought in his specimens and occupied himself with his microscope he had begun a careful study of certain destructive things even here in the wild he found them evil and unwholesome clinging to the well and strong slowly but surely sapping the vitality of those who gave them life every evil he thought must in the economy of nature have its antidote so with the ardor of the scientist he divided with care the nasty pasty growth he had found and prepared his plates systematically he made drawings and notes as he studied the magnified atoms beneath his powerful lens he absorbed in his work Hoyle's childish voice piped at him from the doorway howdy doctor Thring well hello howdy said David without looking up from his work what you got in that there gold machine can I look too what have I got why I've got a bit of the devil in here where'd you get him oh I found him along the road between here and the station did he come on the cars with you where were he at how come he in there David did not reply for an instant and the odd child drew a step nearer where were he at he insisted how come he in there he was hanging to a bush as I came along opened my box and brought him home and cut him up and put a little bit of him in here then there was silence and David forgot the small boy until he heard a deep drawn sigh behind him looking up for the first time he saw him standing aloof a look of terror in his wide eyes as if he feigned would run away but could not from sheer fright poor little mite David in his playful speech seemed of being taken in earnest he drew the child to his side where he cuddled gladly nestling his twisted little body close partly for protection and partly in love you reckon he's plumb day David could feel the child's heart beating in a heavy labored way against his arm as he held him and pushing his papers one side he lifted him to his knee do I reckon who's dead he asked absently with his ear pressed to the child's back the devil what you done brought home in your box dead oh yes he's dead good and dead sit still a moment so now take a long breath a long one deep that's right now another what for I want to hear your heartbeat can you hear it yes don't talk a minute that'll do what you want to hear my heartbeat for I can feel it can you feel your be they more than one devil heaps of them when I go back you reckon I find them hanging on the bushes do they hang by their tails like possums does comfortable and happy where he was the little fellow dreaded the distance he must traverse to reach his home under the peculiar phenomena of devils hanging to the bushes along his route oh no no here I'll show you what I mean then he explained carefully to the child what he really meant showing him some of the strange in beautiful ways of nature and at last allowing him to look into the microscope to see the little cells and rays as he patiently and kindly taught he was pleased with the child's eager receptive mind and naive admiration towards evening Hoyle was sent home quite at rest concerning devils and all their kin and radiantly happy with a box of many colored pencils and a blank drawing book which David had brought him from Farrington I can learn to make things like you've been making with these and Cass she'll help me he cried what is Cass doing today David ventured she been up here most all morning and I helped get the light for fire and then she sent me home to help Ma while she stayed to fix up but now I mean when you came up here weaving in the loom shed Ma attached them she did what have you done to your thumb asked David seeing it tied about with a rag I plunked it with a hammer when I were making houses for the biddies I nailed them I did you made the chicken coops well you are a clever little chap let me see your hand yes Ma said I were that too but you weren't very clever to do this whew what did you hit your thumb like that for don't know he looked ruefully at the crushed member which the doctor laughed gently and soothe me why didn't you come to me with it Ma loud there weren't no use pestering you with everything she told me every man had learned to hit a nail on the head David laughed and the child trotted away happy his hand in a sling and handkerchiefs and his box of pencils and his book hugged to his irregularly beating heart but it was with the grave face that thring saw him disappear among the great masses of pink laurel bloom that evening as the glow in the west deepened and died away and the stars came out one by one and sent their slender rays down upon the hills David sat on his rock with his flute in his hand and went to arrive when he could put it to his lips and send out the message of glad hopes he had sent before she had asked that one little thing that his music might still be glad and so for Cassandra's sake it must be he tried once and again but he could not play at last putting away from him his repentant thoughts he gave his heart full sway saying to himself for this moment I will imagine harmlessly that my vision is all mine and my dream come true it is the only way then he played as if it were he whom she had kissed so passionately instead of his flute and thus it was the glad notes were falling on her spirit when frail found her end of chapter 15 chapter 16 of The Mountain Girl this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Mary Herndon Bell The Mountain Girl by Payne Erskine chapter 16 in which frail returns and listens to the complaints of Decatur Irwin's wife all was quiet and lonely around Karoo's crossing when frail dropped from the train and struck off over the mountain soon there would be bustle and stir and life about the place for the hotel would be open and people would be crowding in some to escape the heat of the far south and the low countries some from the cities either north or south to whom the bracing air businessmen with shattered nerves and women whose high play during the winter at the game of social life had left them nervous wrecks but now the beauty of the spring and the sweet silences were undisturbed by alien chatter as yet were to be heard only the noises of the forest of wind and stream of bird calls and the piping of turtles and the shrilling of insects or vibrant croaking of frogs discharged by some solitary mountain boy regardless of game laws to provide a supper at home only these as frail climbed rapidly away from the station toward the fall place and Cassandra he would stop there first and then strike for his old haunts and hiding places he felt a leaping joy in his veins to be again among his hills how lonely he had been for them not known until now when with lifted head and bounding heart he trod lightly and easily the difficult way and yet the undercurrent of the tragedy lay quiet beneath his joy and haunted him keeping him to the trails above the secret paths which led circuitously to his home even while the thought of Cassandra made his heart buoyant and eager the sight of Dr. Thring who during these months had been near her perhaps seeing her daily aroused all the primitive jealousy of his nature he would go now and persuade her to marry him and stand by him until he could fight his way through to the unquestioned right to live there as his father had done define any who would interfere with his course had he not a silver bullet for the heart of the man who would dare contest his rights he would only remain for him to meet Giles Teasley face to face to settle the matter forever since it was purely a mountain affair and the officers of the law had already searched to their satisfaction there was little chance that the pursuit would be renewed by the state it would however be impossible for him to go back to the fall place and live there openly until the last member of the Teasley family capable of wreaking vengeance settled with but as the father was crippled with rheumatism and could do no more than taught her about his mill and talk only this one brother was left with whom to deal now that frail was back in his own hills again all terror slipped from him and the old excitement in the presence of danger to be met or avoided stimulated him to a feeling of exuberance and triumph with child-like facility and the thought of his promise to Cassandra it all seemed to him as a dream all the horror and the remorse time had quickly dulled this last if I hadn't killed Ferg he would have shot me anyhow he hadn't ought to arrive me that way he thought with shame of how he had sat cowering at the head of the fall and had hurled his own dog to destruction in his fear I would just plum crazy he soliloquized as to how he would deal with Cassandra he did not as yet know but he would find a way in his heart he reached out to her and already possessed her his blood leaped madly through his veins that he was so soon to see her and touch her have her he would if he must continue to kill his way to her through an army of opponents the evening was falling and imagining they would all be sleeping he meant to creep quietly up and spend the night in the loom shed there was no dog there now to disturb them with joyful bark of recognition at last he found himself above the home whereby striking through the undergrowth a short distance he would come out by the great holly-tree near the head of the fall already he could hear the welcome sound of rushing water he drew nearer through the thick laurel and azalea shrubs now in full bloom their pollen clung to his clothing as he brushed among them cautiously he approached the spot which recalled to him the emotions he had experienced there now throbbing through him anew he peered into the gathering dusk with eager eyes as if he thought to find her still there ah he could crush her in his mad joy suddenly he paused and listened other sounds than those of the night in the running water fell on his ear sounds deliciously sweet and thrilling filling all the air mingling with the rushing of the fall and accenting its flow from whence did they come those new sounds he had never heard them before did they drop from the sky from the stars twinkling brightly down on him from the sky from the sky twinkling brightly down on him now faint and far as if born in heaven now near and clear silvery clear and strong and sweet penetrating his very soul and making every nerve quiver to their pulsating rhythm he felt a certain fear of a new kind creep tinglingly through him holding him cold and still for the moment breathless was she there had she died and was this her spirit trying to speak very quietly he drew nearer to the great rock yes she was there standing with her back to the silvery grey bowl of the holly-tree her face lifted toward the mountaintop and her expression wrapped and listening holy and pure far removed from him as was the star above the peak toward which her gaze was turned she could not touch her nor crusher to him as a moment before he had felt he must but he slowly approached she heard his step and then saw him waiting there in the dim light of the starry dusk for an instant she regarded him in silence then she essayed to speak but her lips only trembled over the words voicelessly he could not see her emotion but he felt it and his stillness made her seem calm hungrily he stood and watched her at last she spoke why frail frail hits me Cass have have you been down to the house frail nah I just come this away from the station is it is it safe for you to come here frail she stood a short distance from him speaking so softly and yet he could not touch her his hand seemed numb and his breath came pantingly I reckon it's safe here is there he said huskily and I've come to stay too then let's go down to mother likely she's a bed by now but she'll be right glad to see you she can walk a little now she hastened to fill the moments with words anything to divert that fixed gaze thoughts from her instinctively she groped thus for time she who like a deer would flee if flight were possible even while her heart welled with pity for him come you can talk with her whilst I get you some supper she felt his pent up emotion and secretly feared it but held herself bravely frail will nah jump out of his skin he'll be that glad you come back he stood stubbornly where he was and lifted his hand to grasp her arm but she glided on just beyond his reach either not seeing it or avoiding it he could not decide which and still she said come frail he followed stumblingly in her wake as a man follows an ignis fatuous unconscious of the roughness of the way or of the steps he was taking and the girls followed them from above sweetly mockingly as it seemed to him what were they why were they how can Cassandra there listening he could stand this mystery no longer and he cried out to her Cass here listen to that yes frail she spoke weirdly but did not pause wait Cass I'll be it you reckon hark to it or be it at I reckon it's up yonder at Dr. Thring's cabin he has a little pipe like that he blows on and it makes music like that and you clump up there to hark to him he bounded forward in the darkness and walked close to her she quivered like a leaf but held her voice low and steady as she replied no frail I'd go there evenings when I'm not too tired I've been going there ever since you left too that doctor he's been casting a spell on you Cass I can see it how you walking off it never allow me to touch you you ain't said howdy to me you know how are you glad I come you like a cold white drift of snow blowing on ahead of me you ain't no human girl like you used to be I got something to put a spell on him too if he don't watch out he spoke in his mild low voice to draw but he kept close to her side and she could hear his breathing quick and panting she felt as if a tiger were keeping pace with her and she knew the sinister meaning beneath his words she knew that all she could do now was to take him back to his promise and hold him to it there's no such thing as spell casting frail you know that and you have my promise and I have yours have you forgot talking that way seems like you have forgot she walked on rapidly taking him nearer and nearer their home and in her haste she stumbled in an instant his arm was thrown round her holding her on her feet look at you now like the fall Claire had long running that away to get shadow me appears like you mad that I come he held her back and they went slowly but he did not release her nor did she struggle futile against his strength knowing it wiser to continue calmly leading him on but she could not reply the start of her fall and her wildly beating heart rendered her breathless and weak I tell you that there doctor man he put a spell on you he and drawed you up there to hear him I see you looking like he done drawed your soul out in your body I have heard a such he has been down in Bishop towns too where I be working at I see him watching me like he come to spy on me and he no sooner gone then I see that their giles teesly sneaking along the fence looking over and searching every place like you were a hungry for a side of me he stopped and swallowed angrily they had arrived at the trough of running water it was much easier to find herself so near her haven what have you done with your dog frail you reckon he followed you off I haven't seen him since you left he released her then and stooping to the water pipe drank a long draft and thrust his head beneath it allowing the water to drench his thick hair then he stood a moment shaking his curling locks like a spaniel wait here I'll fetch a towel mother frail's come back she said quietly not to awaken well then returned and tossed him the towel which he caught and rubbed vigorously over his head and face now you're like yourself again frail yes I'm here and I'm myself I reckon who'd you think I'd be he caught her and kissed her and with his arm about her entered the cabin and plunged with childish ease according to whatever the moments brought him Cassandra lighted a candle for now that the days had grown warm the fire was allowed to go out unless needed for cooking his stepmother had roused herself and peered at him from out her dark corner where little foil lay sleeping soundly in the farther side of her bed frail strode across the uneven floor and kissed her also resoundingly astounded she dropped back on her pillow what else you frail the mountain people are for the most part too reserved to be lavish with their kisses nothing else me I'm kissing you for Cass's sake me and her is going to get joined and set up together I'm come back for to marry with her and we're going over to other side alone pine and I'm going to build a cabin there that's how I'm kissing you will you have another you hash and go along said the mother half contemptuously frail's making fool talk mother don't give he to him he's lightheaded I reckon and I'm going to get him something to eat right quick I allow he be lightheaded nobody's going to get Cass while I'm living thought he got more in a cabin over to other side alone pine she's right well off here she'll buy frail turned darkly on the mother I reckon you'd better give he to me more into her he said in the low draw which voted much with him Cassandra on her knees at the hearth was arranging sticks of fat pine to light the fire her hands shook as she held them this frail saw and his eyes gleaned he came to her side and kneeling also took them from her he's my place to do this for you now Cass from now on I reckon I'll hang the kettle for you too and fetch the water the mother stared at them in silence and Cassandra taking up the coffee pot rose and went out when she returned the fire was crackling merrily and the great kettle swung over it frail was up and seated on his half brother's knee Cassandra's eyes looked heavy and showed traces of tears frail saw it all with eyes gleaming blue through narrowly drawn lids his lips quivered a little as he talked with Hoyle he drew out his money for the child to count over gleefully thus diverting himself with the boy while he watched Cassandra furtively he decided to say no more at present until she should have had time to adjust her mind to the thought that he had so daringly announced to her mother when she came home she took the money from her and gave it to Hoyle then carried him back and put him to bed and told him to sleep again for all of her promise Cassandra had not expected this to come upon her so suddenly like lightning out of a clear sky startling her very soul with fear as frail ate what she said before him she went over to the bedside and sat there holding her mother's hand and talking in low tones as her eyes strove to hear be it true what he says Cass not all mother I never told him I would go and live over beyond long pine I meant always to live right here with you but I am promised to him I gave him my word that night he left to get him to go and save him oh god mother I didn't guess it would come so soon he promised me he would repent his deed and live right the mother brightened and drew her daughter down and spoke low in her ear make him keep to his promise first child you're safe there I reckon he's doing a heap of repenting this away I ain't gonna allow you to throw yourself away on no far well if he be good looking thought he holds to his word good for a year it's just the way his pa done me he give me his word that he'd stop stillin' and drinkin' and he held to it for three months and then he come on me this away and I married him and he opened up his still again in three weeks and there he went his own way from that day Cassandra Rosen went to the door I'm going to make you a bed in the loom shed like I made it for the doctor there's no bed up Garrett now I emptied out all the chicks and thought I'd have them fresh filled against you come back but I've been that busy soon he followed her out I reckon I won't sleep there where that doctor have slept he might put a spell on me too he said standing in the door of the shed and looking in on her the night was lighter now for the full moon had glided up over the hills and she worked by its light streaming through the open door I can't see with you standing there frail I reckon you'll have to sleep here cause it's too late to fill your bed tonight oh leave that bed come and sit here with me he said dropping on the step where the doctor had sat when she opened her heart to him and told him about her father it all surged back up on her now she could not sit there with frail I'll make my bed myself and I'll sleep wherever you want me to if it's up on the roof or out yonder in the water trough come sit we'll go back on the porch and I'll take mother's chair I'm right tired when we get in our own cabin over to the other side of Long Pine you won't have nothing to do only tend on me he said drawing her to him he led her across the open space and placed her gently in her mother's chair on the little porch now frail sit down there and listen she said pointing to the step at her feet and the tree had sat only a few days before to make out the lease of their land everything seemed to cry out to her of him tonight but she must steal her heart against the thought I'm going to talk to you straight just what I mean frail you've been talking as you pleased in there and I allowed you to I was that set back anyway I'd rather talk to you alone frail our promise was made before God so I will keep to mine but you must keep to yours too listen to me Miss Towers wrote to me you had been drunk twice is that keeping your promise to leave whiskey alone is it frail you have somebody down there washing me and I ain't nobody watching you he said sullenly she felt degraded by his words frail do you know me all these years to think such as that of me now I tell you he had put a spell on you I can feel it and see it it ain't your fault Cass I'd put one on you myself if I could anyhow I'll take you out of this for he have done it do you never say that word to me again as long as you live frail she said sternly listen to me I say you go back there and work like you said you would didn't I tell you that their hound dog Giles Teasley were on my scent I seen him I got to come back until I can get shed of him and that means another murder oh frail frail she covered her face with her hands and moaned then they sat silent a while after a little she lifted her head frail I'll go over to Teasley's and beg for them to leave you be I'll beg Giles Teasley on my knees I will then when you have bided your year and kept your promise like you swore before God I'll marry you like I promised and we'll live here and keep the old place like it ought to be kept you hear frail good night now it's only fair that you should give heed to me frail if I do that for you she glided past him into the house like a wraith and he rose without a word of reply and stretched himself on the half made bed in the loom shed as he was sullen and angry he lay far into the night with the moonlight streaming over him but he did not sleep and his mood only grew more bitter and dangerous when the first streak of dawn was drawn across the eastern sky he rose unrefreshed and began a search feeling along the rafters high above the bags of cotton presently he drew forth an ancient long-barreled rifle and taking it out into the light examined it carefully he rubbed and cleaned the barrel and polished the stock and oiled the hammer and trigger then he brought from the same hiding place a horn of powder and gun-wadding and at last took from his pocket the silver bullet with which he loaded his old weapon in the past days by his father's hand below the house built over a clear welling spring which ran in a bright little rivulet to the larger stream was the spring house here after the warm days came the milk and butter were kept and here frail sauntered down his gun slung across his arm his powder horn at his belt in his old clothes with his trousers thrust in his boot tops to search for provisions in his chest as well he had no mind to allow the family to oppose his action or reason him out of his course he found a jug of buttermilk placed there the evening before for foil to carry to the doctor in the morning and slung it by a strap over his shoulder in one of the sheds lay two chickens ready dressed to be cut up for the frying pan and one of these with a generous strip of salt pork he dropped in a sack he would not enter the house for cornbread even though he knew he was welcome to all the home afforded but planned to arrive at some mountain cabin where friends would give him what he required to complete his stock of food his gun would provide him with an occasional meal of game and he thus felt himself prepared for as long a period of ambush as might be necessary before sunrise on the way over the mountain he did not attempt to go directly to his old haunt but turned aside and took the trail leading along the ridge the same string and Cassandra had taken to the cabin of Decatur Erwin Frail had no definite idea of going there but took the high ridge instinctively so long had he been in the low country that he craved now to reach the heights where he might see the far blue distances and feel the strong sweet air blowing past him feeling that it caused him to thrust his head under the trough of running water the evening before as a wild creature loves the freedom of the plains or an eagle rises and circles above the blue ether aimless and untrammeled so this man of the hills moved now in his natural environment living in the present moment glad to be above the low levels and out from under all restraint seen but a little way into his future content to satisfy present needs and the cravings of his strong viral body moments of exaltation and aspiration came to him as they must come to everyone but they were moments only and were quickly swept aside and but vaguely comprehended by him as a child will weep one minute over some creature his heedlessness has hurt and the next forget it all in the pursuit of some new delight so this child of nature took his way swayed by his moods and desires an elemental force like a swollen torrent taking its vengeful way forgetful of promises glad of freedom angry at being held in restraint and willing to crush or tear away any opposing force at last breakfastless and weary after his long climb his sleepless night after his talk with Cassandra the evening before he paused at the edge of the descent loathed to leave the open height behind him and stretched himself under a great black cedar to rest as he lay there dreaming and scheming with half shut eyes he spied below him the bare red patch of soil around the cabin of Decatur Erwin instantly he rose and began rapidly to descent Decatur was away from Holland his wife said and had to be away all day but she willingly set herself to bake a fresh corn cake and make him coffee he had already taken a little of his buttermilk but he did not care for raw salt pork alone he wanted his cornbread and coffee the staple of the Mountaineer she talked much in a languid way as she worked and he sat in the doorway now and then she asked questions about his home and answered evasively she gossiped much about all the happenings and sayings of her neighbors far and near and complained much which came to take pay from him for what she provided of the times which had come upon them since Kate had hurt his foot she told how that fool doctor had come there and taken it off making out like Kate had died of it if he didn't and how Cassandra Merlin had done cheated her into going off in herself and help him to do it with her snuff stick between her yellow teeth and her numerous progeny squatting in the dirt all about the doorway idly gazing at frail she retailed her grievances without reserve how the wife of Hoke Willew had been ailing and Cassandra had been there every day hearing for her I allow she just goes there cause she allows she'll see that doctor man there and ride back with him to the palace spiteful creature and spat as she talked she never done that for me I've been sick of heap of times and she ain't never come nigh me to do a lick frail was annoyed to hear Cassandra thus spoken against for was she not his own he chose to defend her while purposely concealing his bitter anger against the doctor they ain't nothing against Cassandra she sort of came to me and I allow there ain't nah said the woman changing instantly at the threatening tone they ain't nothing against her I reckon he tells her where to go she just goes like he tells her frail threw his sack over his shoulder and started on in silence and the woman smiled evilly after him as she sat there and licked her lips and chewed on her snuff stick and spat and of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 of The Mountain Girl this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Mary Herndon Bell The Mountain Girl by Payne Erskine Chapter 17 in which David Thring the next day David gave his attention to the letters which he found awaiting him one was from Dr. Hoyle in Canada he had but just returned from a visit to England and it was full of news of David's family there your two cousins and your brother are gone with their regiments to South Africa he wrote they are jubilant to be called to active service as they ought to be but your mother is heartbroken over their departure you stay where you are my boy she is glad enough to have you out of England now and far from the temptation which besets youth in times of war it has already caused a serious bloodletting for old England I have grave doubts about this contention in these days there ought to be a way of preventing such disaster write to your mother and comfort her heart she needs it I was careful not to betray to her as I discovered you had not done so hold fast and fight for health and be content your recuperative power is good David was filled with contrition as he opened his mother's letter which was several weeks old and had come by way of Canada since she did not know he had gone south for some time he had sent home only casual notes partly to save her anxiety and partly because writing was irksome to him unless he had something particularly pleasant to tell her his plans and actions had been so much discussed at home and he had been considered so centrally odd so different from his relatives and friends in his opinions and so impossible of comprehension which branded him in his own circle at being quite at fault that he had long ago abandoned an effort to make himself understood by them and had retired behind his mask of reserve and silence to pursue his own course undisturbed thus at best an occasional perfunctory letter that all was well with him was the sum total of news they received Thring had no money anxieties for his family the needs of his mother and his sister, not yet of age were amply provided for by a moderate annuity while his brother had his position in the army and help from his uncle besides he had saved enough with his simple taste and much hard work to tide him over this period of rest David sat now and turned his mother's letter over and over he read and re-read it it was very sad her splendid boys both gone from her one possibly never to return neither of them married and with no hope of grandchildren to solace her declining years stay where you are David she wrote Dr. Hoyle tells us you are doing well don't oh don't enter the army one son I have surrendered to my country service let me feel that I still have one on whom I may depend to care for Laura and me in the years to come we do not need you now but some day we may David's quandary was how to give her as much of his confidence as filial duty required without betraying himself as far as to arouse the antagonistic comment of her immediate circle upon his course at last he found a way telling her he did not know how soon he might return to Canada he requested her to continue to address him there he then filled his letter with loving thoughts for her and Laura and a humorous description of what he had seen and experienced in the States and the country about him also foreign and utterly strange to her in his manuscript romance it was a cleverly written letter so hiding the vital matters of his soul which he could not reveal even to the most loving scrutiny that all her motherly intuition failed to read between the lines the humorous portions she gave to the rector's wife her most intimate friend and the dear son's love expressed therein she treasured in her heart and was comforted then David rode away up the mountain to his little farm he craved to get far into the very heart of the wildest parts for with the letters the old conventional and stereotyped ideals seemed to have intruded into his cabin he passed the home of Hope Maloo and stopped there to see that all was well with them the rosevine covering the porch roof was filled with pink blossoms hundreds of them swinging out over his head the air was sweet with the odor of honeysuckle that locust tree would soon be alive with bees for it was already budded he took the baby in his arms and saw that its cheeks were growing round and plump and that the young mother looked well and happy and he was glad take good care of them, Hope they are worth it he said to the young father as he passed him coming in from the field I will that said the man can you tell me how to reach a place I have a fancy to do a little exploring well it's sort of round about I don't guess you can find it easy the man spat as if reluctant to give the information ask which only stimulated David all the more to find the spot keep right on this way do I yes you keep on for a spell and then you turn to the right and follow the stream for a spell and you keep on following it off and on till you get there you'll know it when you do get there but the stills all broke up oh I don't care a rap about the still nah I reckon not better light and have dinner before you go on Azalea keep the doc to dinner I'm coming in a minute he called to his wife who stood smiling in the doorway David willingly accepted the proffered hospitality for knowing it would be well after nightfall or he could return to his cabin and rode back to the house while Azalea prepared dinner hope sat in the open door and held his baby and smoked David took a splint bottom chair out on the porch and smoked with him watching pleasantly the pride of the young father who allowed the tiny fist to close tightly around his great work roughened finger look at there now and he ain't bigger than a bumblebee and see how he can hang on yes said David absolutely regarding them he's a fine boy he sure is they ain't no finer in this mountain Azalea came and looked down over her husband's shoulder don't do that away hope you'll wake him up bobbing his arm up and down like you are doing he's that proud you can't touch him you hear that doc Azalea she's that sought on him she'd like to turn me out in the house for just looking at him she lows he'll grow up a preacher on account of the way he can holler and thrash with his fist but I tell her it ain't nothing but madness and devilment that gets in him with the mother's superior smile playing about her lips she glanced understandably at David cooking as they came into the table she called David's attention to a low box set on rockers and taking the baby from her husband's arms carefully placed him still asleep in the quaint nest hope made that his self she said with pride and Cassandre she made that cover Thring touched the cover reverently bending over it and left the cradle rocking as he sat down at Hope's side with a fresh butter between his hot biscuit as he had learned to do his mother would have flung up her hands in horror as she seen him doing this or could she have known how many such he had devoured since coming to recuperate in these mountain wiles the home was very bare and simple but sweet and clean and love was in it to sit there for a while with a child like young couple enjoying their home and their baby and the hospitality generously offered according to their ability warm David's heart and he rode away happier than he came with mind absorbed and idle reign he allowed his horse to stray as he would while his thoughts and memory played strange tricks presenting contrasting pictures to his inward vision now it was his mother reading by the evening lamp carelessly scanning a late magazine only half interested in shining puffs high on her head and soft lace old lace falling from open sleeves over her shapely arms and Laura red cheeked and plump curled feet and all in a great lounging chair pouring over a novel and yawning now and then her dark hair carelessly tied with straight strained ends hanging about her face as he had many a time seen her after playing a game of hockey his mother and Laura were the only ones at home now since the big elder brother was gone of course they would miss him and be sad sometimes but Laura would enjoy life as much as ever and keep the home bright with youth even as he thought of them the room faded and his own cabin appeared as he had seen it the day before through the open window with Cassandra moving about in her quiet gliding way again he could see the picture of another room all white and gold with slight French chairs and tables and couches and cushions and candle-labra of quivering crystals with pale green walls and gold-framed paintings and a great three-cornered piano massive and dark where a slight fair girl sat idly playing tinkling music in keeping with herself and the room but quite out of keeping with a splendid instrument he saw people all about her chatting, laughing, sipping tea and eating thin bread and butter he saw, as if from a distance, another man himself in that room standing near the piano to turn her music while the tinkling runs and glib expressionless trills wove in and out a ceaseless nothing she spent years learning to do that he thought and any amount of money and of what else were they capable those hands he could see them fluttering carelessly over the keys pink, slender, pretty and then he saw other hands somewhat work-worn not small nor yet too large but white and shapely ah of what were they not capable and the other girl in coarse white homespun seated before the fire holding in her arms the small bundle and her smile so rare and fleeting he saw again the handsome sullen youth in bishop tower's garden regarding him over the hedge with narrowed eyes and his whole nature rebelled and cried out as before what a waste why should he allow it to go on he must thrash this thing out once for all before he returned to his cabin while as yet he could be engineer of his own forces and hold his hand on the throttle to guide him safely and wisely could he succeed in influencing her to set her young lover's claims one side but in his heart he knew if such a thing were possible she would not be herself she would be another being and his love for her would cease no he must see her but little as the tragedy go on even as the bishop had said go on as if he had never known her as soon as possible he must return and take up his work where he could not see the slow wreck of her life a heavy dread settled down upon him and he rode on with bowed head until his horse stumbled and thus roused him from his reverie to what wild spot had the animal brought him David lifted his head and it was as if he had been caught up and dropped in an enchanted wood the horse had climbed among great boulders and paused beneath an enormous overhanging rock he heard off at one side the rushing sound of a mountain stream and judged he was near the head of Lone Pine Creek but oh the wilderness of the spot and the beauty of it and the lonely charm he tied his horse to a life limb that swung above his head and the mountain clambered on towards the rushing water the place was so screened in as to leave no vista anywhere hiding the mountains on all sides light green foliage overhead were branches thickly interlaced from great trees growing out of the bank above made a cool, lucent shadowiness all around him there was a delicious odor of sweet shrub in the air and the fruity fragrance of robin underfoot the tremendous rocks were covered with the most exquisite forms of lichen in all their varied shades of richness and delicacy he began carefully removing portions here and there to examine under his microscope when he noticed almost crushed under his foot a pale purple orchid like the one Cassandra had placed on his table to lift the frail thing and at the instant a rifle shot rang out in the still air and a bullet meant for his heart cut across his shoulders like a trail of fire and flattened itself on the rock where he had been at work at the same moment with a bound of tiger-like ferocity and swiftness one leap toward him from a near mass of laurel and he found himself grappling for life or death with the man who fired the shot and he felt rising and scuffling a feet among the leaves and the snapping of dead twigs underfoot were the only sounds had the youth been a trained wrestler David would have known what to expect and would have been able to use method in his defense as it was he had to deal with an enraged creature who fought with the desperate instinct of an antagonist who fights to the death he knew that the odds were against him and felt rising within him a wild determination to win the combat to settle thus the vexed question to fight with the blind passion and the primitive right of the strongest to win his mate he gathered all his strength his good English metal and nerve and grappled with a grip of steel this way and that twisting, turning, stumbling on the uneven ground with set teeth and faces drawn and fierce they struggled and all the time the light tweed coat on David's back showed a deeper stain from his heart's blood and his face grew paler and his breath shorter yet a joy leaped within him it was thus he might save her either to win her or to die for her for should Frail kill him she would turn from him and hopeless horror and David, even in dying would save her suddenly the battle ended Thring's foot turned on a rounded stone causing him to lose his foothold at the same instant with terrible forward impetus Frail closed with him bending him backward until his head struck the lichen-covered rock the purple orchid was bruised beneath him and its color deepened with his blood then Frail rose and looked down upon the pallid upturned face and inert body which lay as he had crushed it down as he stood thus a white figure bare-headed and alone a floral which hid them and pausing tears stricken in the open space looked from one to the other for an instant Cassandra waited thus as if she too was struck dead where she stood then she looked no more on the fallen man but only at Frail with eyes immovable and yet withdrawn as if she were searching in her own soul for a thing to do while her heart stood still and her throat closed and her eyes with the green sea depths in them began to glow with a cruel light as if she too could kill as if they were drawing slowly from the deep well of her being as it were a sword from its scabbard wherewith to cut him through the heart her hands stole to her throat and pressed hard then she lifted it high above her head and held it as if in an instant more one might see the invisible sword flash forth Frail cried out then don't don't curse me Cass and lifted his arm to shield his face while great beads of moisture stood out on his face it's not for me to curse Frail her voice was low and clear curses come from hell like what you've been carrying in your heart that made you do this her voice grew louder and her hand trembled and shut as if it grasped something I take it back back from God the promise I gave you there by the fall then looking up her voice grew low again though still distinct I take that promise back forever oh God her hand dropped the cruel light died slowly out of her eyes and she turned and knelt by the prostrate man and began pulling open his coat Frail took one step toward her Cass he said with shaking voice I'll help you her hands clenched into David's coat as she held it go back don't you touch even his least finger she cried looking up at him from where she knelt like a creature hurt to the heart defending its own you've done your work take your face where I never can see it again he stood still and looked down on her she turned again to David and thrusting her hand into his bosom drew it forth with blood upon it I say to you Frail she cried holding it toward him quivering with the ferocity she could no longer restrain leave here or with this blood on my hand I'll call all hell to curse you Frail turned with bowed head and left her there and of Chapter 17