the house behind the cedars(雪松后的房子)-第53节
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tedium of the journey by occasional potations； which probably accounted
for the incoherency of speech which several of those who met her had
observed。 When Tryon drew near； she tendered him the bottle with tipsy
cordiality。 He turned in disgust and retraced his steps to the Patesville
road； which he did not reach until nightfall。 As it was too dark to
prosecute the search with any chance of success； he secured lodging for
the night； intending to resume his quest early in the morning。
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THE HOUSE BEHIND THE CEDARS
XXXIII
A MULE AND A CART
Frank Fowler's heart was filled with longing for a sight of Rena's face。
When she had gone away first； on the ill…fated trip to South Carolina； her
absence had left an aching void in his life； he had missed her cheerful
smile； her pleasant words； her graceful figure moving about across the
narrow street。 His work had grown monotonous during her absence； the
clatter of hammer and mallet； that had seemed so merry when punctuated
now and then by the strains of her voice； became a mere humdrum rapping
of wood upon wood and iron upon iron。 He had sought work in South
Carolina with the hope that be might see her。 He had satisfied this hope；
and had tried in vain to do her a service； but Fate had been against her； her
castle of cards had come tumbling down。 He felt that her sorrow had
brought her nearer to him。 The distance between them depended very
much upon their way of looking at things。 He knew that her experience
had dragged her through the valley of humiliation。 His unselfish
devotion had reacted to refine and elevate his own spirit。 When he heard
the suggestion； after her second departure； that she might marry Wain； he
could not but compare himself with this new aspirant。 He； Frank； was a
man； an honest mana better man than the shifty scoundrel with whom
she had ridden away。 She was but a woman； the best and sweetest and
loveliest of all women； but yet a woman。 After a few short years of
happiness or sorrow； little of joy； perhaps； and much of sadness； which
had begun already；they would both be food for worms。 White people；
with a deeper wisdom perhaps than they used in their own case； regarded
Rena and himself as very much alike。 They were certainly both made by
the same God； in much the same physical and mental mould； they
breathed the same air； ate the same food； spoke the same speech； loved
and hated； laughed and cried； lived and would die； the same。 If God had
meant to rear any impassable barrier between people of contrasting
complexions； why did He not express the prohibition as He had done
between other orders of creation？
When Rena had departed for Sampson County； Frank had reconciled
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himself to her absence by the hope of her speedy return。 He often
stepped across the street to talk to Mis' Molly about her。 Several letters
had passed between mother and daughter； and in response to Frank's
inquiries his neighbor uniformly stated that Rena was well and doing well；
and sent her love to all inquiring friends。 But Frank observed that Mis'
Molly； when pressed as to the date of Rena's return； grew more and more
indefinite； and finally the mother； in a burst of confidential friendship； told
Frank of all her hopes with reference to the stranger from down the
country。
〃Yas； Frank；〃 she concluded； 〃it'll be her own fault ef she don't become
a lady of proputty； fer Mr。 Wain is rich； an' owns a big plantation； an' hires
a lot of hands； and is a big man in the county。 He's crazy to git her； an' it
all lays in her own han's。〃
Frank did not find this news reassuring。 He believed that Wain was a
liar and a scoundrel。 He had nothing more than his intuitions upon which
to found this belief； but it was none the less firm。 If his estimate of the
man's character were correct； then his wealth might be a fiction； pure and
simple。 If so； the truth should be known to Mis' Molly； so that instead of
encouraging a marriage with Wain； she would see him in his true light； and
interpose to rescue her daughter from his importunities。 A day or two
after this conversation； Frank met in the town a negro from Sampson
County； made his acquaintance； and inquired if he knew a man by the
name of Jeff Wain。
〃Oh； Jeff Wain！〃 returned the countryman slightingly； 〃yas； I knows
'im； an' don' know no good of 'im。 One er dese yer biggity； braggin'
niggerstalks lack he own de whole county； an' ain't wuth no mo' d'n I is
jes' a big bladder wid a handful er shot rattlin' roun' in it。 Had a wife；
when I wuz dere； an' beat her an' 'bused her so she had ter run away。〃
This was alarming information。 Wain had passed in the town as a
single man； and Frank had had no hint that he had ever been married。
There was something wrong somewhere。 Frank determined that he
would find out the truth and； if possible； do something to protect Rena
against the obviously evil designs of the man who had taken her away。
The barrel factory had so affected the cooper's trade that Peter and Frank
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had turned their attention more or less to the manufacture of small
woodenware for domestic use。 Frank's mule was eating off its own head；
as the saying goes。 It required but little effort to persuade Peter that his
son might take a load of buckets and tubs and piggins into the country and
sell them or trade them for country produce at a profit。
In a few days Frank had his stock prepared； and set out on the road to
Sampson County。 He went about thirty miles the first day； and camped
by the roadside for the night； resuming the journey at dawn。 After
driving for an hour through the tall pines that overhung the road like the
stately arch of a cathedral aisle； weaving a carpet for the earth with their
brown spines and cones； and soothing the ear with their ceaseless murmur；
Frank stopped to water his mule at a point where the white； sandy road；
widening as it went； sloped downward to a clear…running branch。 On the
right a bay…tree bending over the stream mingled the heavy odor of its
flowers with the delicate perfume of a yellow jessamine vine that had
overrun a clump of saplings on the left。 From a neighboring tree a
silver…throated mocking…bird poured out a flood of riotous melody。 A
group of minnows； startled by the splashing of the mule's feet； darted
away into the shadow of the thicket； their quick passage leaving the amber
water filled with laughing light。
The mule drank long and lazily； while over Frank stole thoughts in
harmony with the peaceful scene；thoughts of Rena； young and beautiful；
her friendly smile； her pensive dark eyes。 He would soon see her now；
and if she had any cause for fear or unhappiness； he would place himself
at her servicefor a day； a week； a month； a year； a lifetime； if need be。
His reverie was broken by a slight noise from the thicket at his left。
〃I wonder who dat is？〃 he muttered。 〃It soun's mighty quare； ter say de
leas'。〃
He listened intently for a moment； but heard nothing further。 〃It must
'a' be'n a rabbit er somethin' scamp'in' th'ough de woods。 G'long dere；
Caesar！〃
As the mule stepped forward； the sound was repeated。 This time it
was distinctly audible； the long； low moan of some one
