She used to be mighty wilful 'n'contrary,but as soon as you come Iseed at oncet that a change was comm'over her.I mistrusted ye,'n'I warned her ag'in'ye.But when I l'arned that ye was a-teachin'her,and a-doin'whut I had tried my best to do 'n'failed,I let things run along,thinkin'that mebbe ever'thing would come out right,after all.Mebbe hit air all right,but I come to ye now,'n'I ax ye in the name of the livin'God,who is a-watchin'you a-guidin'me,air ye goin'to leave the po'gal to die sorrowin'fer ye,or do ye aim to come back 'n'marry her?
Raines had stopped now in the centre of the cabin,and the shadows flickering slowly over him gave an unearthly aspect to his tall,gaunt figure,as he stood with uplifted arm,pale face,glowing eyes,and disordered hair.
"The gal hasn't got no protecter-her dad,as you know,is a-hidin'from jestice in the mount'ins-and I'm a-standin'in his place,'n'I ax ye to do only whut you know ye ought."There was nothing threatening in the mountaineer 's attitude,nor dictatorial;and Clayton felt his right to say what he had,in spite of a natural impulse to resent such interference.Besides,there sprang up in his heart a sudden great admiration for this rough,uncouth fellow who was capable of such unselfishness;who,true to the trust of her father and his God,was putting aside the strongest passion of his life for what he believed was the happiness of the woman who had inspired it.He saw,too,that the sacrifice was made with perfect unconsciousness that it was unusual or admirable.He rose to his feet,and the two men faced each other.
"If you had told me this long ago,"said Clayton,"I should have gone away,but you seemed distrustful and suspicious.I did not expect the present state of affairs to come about,but since it has,Itell you frankly that I have never thought of doing anything else than what you have asked."And he told the truth,for he had already asked himself that question.Why should he not marry her?He must in all probability stay in the mountains for years,and after that time he would not be ashamed to take her home,so strong was his belief in her quickness and adaptibility.
Raines seemed scarcely to believe what he heard.He had not expected such ready acquiescence.He had almost begun to fear from Clayton's silence that he was going to refuse,and then-God knows what he would have done.
Instantly he stretched out his hand.
"I hev done ye great wrong,'n'I ax yer par-din,"he said,huskily.
"I want to say that I bear ye no gredge,'n'thet I wish ye well.Ihope ye won't think hard on me,"he continued;"I he had a hard fight with the devil as long as I can ricolect.I hev turned back time 'n'ag'in,but thar hain't nothin'ter keep me from goin'straight ahead now."As Clayton left the cabin,the mountaineer stopped him for a moment on the threshold.
"Thar's another thing I reckon I ought to tell ye,"he said;"Easter's dad air powerfully sot ag'in ye.He thought ye was an officer at fust,'n'hit was hard to git him out o'the idee thet ye was spyin'fer him;'n'when he seed ye goin'to the house,he got it inter his head that ye mought be meanin'harm to Easter,who air the only thing alive thet he keers fer much.He promised not to tech ye,'n'Iknowed he would keep his word as long as he was sober.It'll be all right now,I reckon,"he concluded,"when I tell him whut ye aims to do,though he hev got a spite ag'in all furriners.Far'well!Iwish ye well;I wish ye well."An hour later Clayton was in Jellico.It was midnight when the train came in,and he went immediately to his berth.Striking the curtain accidentally,he loosed it from its fastenings,and,doubling the pillows,he lay looking out on the swiftly passing landscape.
The moon was full and brilliant,and there was a strange,keen pleasure in being whirled in such comfort through the night.
The mists almost hid the mountains.They seemed very,very far away.
A red star trembled in the crest of Wolf Mountain.
Easter's cabin must be almost under that Star.He wondered if she were asleep.
Perhaps she was out on the porch,lonely,suffering,and thinking of him.
He felt her kiss and her tears upon his hand.Did he not love her?
Could there be any doubt about that?His thoughts turned toRaines,and he saw the mountaineer in his lonely cabin,sitting with his head bowed in his hands in front of the dying fire.He closed his eyes,and another picture rose before him-a scene at home.He had taken Easter to New York.How brilliant the light!
what warmth and luxury!There stood his father,there his mother.
What gracious dignity they had!Here was his sister-what beauty and elegance and grace of manner!But Easter!Wherever she was placed the other figures needed readjustment.There was something irritably incongruous-Ah!now he had it-his mind grew hazy-he was asleep.
