a cumberland vendetta-第14节

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er；　and　then　looked　again　to　the　Lewallen　cabin。　Never；　morning；　noon；　or　night；　when　he　came　from　the　rhododendrons；　or　when　they　closed　about　him；　did　he　fail　to　turn　his　eyes　that　way。　Often　he　would　see　a　bright　speck　moving　about　the　dim　lines　of　the　cabin；　and　he　would　scarcely　breathe　while　he　watched　it；　so　easily　would　it　disappear。　Always　he　had　thought　it　was　Martha；　and　now　he　knew　it　was；　for　the　old　miller　had　told　him　more　of　the　girl；　and　had　wrung　his　heart　with　pity。　　She　had　been　ill　a　long　while。　The　〃furriners　〃　had　seized　old　Jasper's　cahin　and　land。　　The　girl　was　homeless；　and　she　did　not　know　it；　for　no　one　had　the　heart　to　tell　her。　She　was　living　with　the　Braytons；　and　every　day　she　went　to　the　cabin；　〃moonin''　n'　sorrowin'　aroun'；〃　as　old　Gabe　said；　and　she　was　much　changed。

Once　more　the　miller　came…for　the　last　time；　he　said；　firmly。　　Crump　had　trailed　him；　and　had　learned　where　Rome　was。　The　search　would　begin　next　day…perhaps　that　very　night…and　Crump　would　guide　the　soldiers。　Now　he　must　go；　and　go　quickly。　　The　boy；　too；　sent　word　that　unless　Rome　went；　he　would　have　something　to　tell。　Old　Gabe　saw　no　significance　in　the　message；　but　he　had　promised　to　deliver　it；　and　he　did。　　Rome　wavered　then；　Steve　and　himself　gone；　no　suspicion　would　fall　on　the　lad。　If　he　were　caught；　the　boy　might　confess。　　With　silence　Rome　gave　assent；　and　the　two　parted　in　an　apathy　that　was　like　heartlessness。　Only　old　Gabe's　shrunken　breast　heaved　with　something　more　than　weariness　of　descent；　and　Rome　stood　watching　him　a　long　time　before　he　turned　back　to　the　cave　that　had　sheltered　him　from　his　enemies　among　beasts　and　men。　In　a　moment　he　came　out　for　the　last　time；　and　turned　the　opposite　way。　Climbing　about　the　spur；　he　made　for　the　path　that　led　down　to　the　river。　When　he　reached　it　he　glanced　at　the　sun；　and　stopped　in　indecision。　　Straight　above　him　was　a　knoll；　massed　with　rhododendrons；　the　flashing　leaves　of　which　made　it　like　a　great　sea…wave　in　the　slanting　sun；　while　the　blooms　broke　slowly　down　over　it　like　foam。　Above　this　was　a　gray　sepulchre　of　dead；　standing　trees；　more　gaunt　and　spectre…like　than　ever；　with　the　rich　life　of　summer　about　it。　Higher　still　were　a　dark　belt　of　stunted　firs　and　the　sandstone　ledge；　and　above　these…home。　　He　was　risking　his　liberty；　his　life。　　Any　clump　of　bushes　might　bristle　suddenly　with　Winchesters。　If　the　soldiers　sought　for　him　at　the　cave　they　would　at　the　same　time　guard　the　mountain　paths；　they　would　guard；　too；　the　Stetson　cabin。　But　no　matter…the　sun　was　still　high；　and　he　turned　up　the　steep。　The　ledge　passed；　he　stopped　with　a　curse　at　his　lips　and　the　pain　of　a　knife…thrust　at　his　heart。　　A　heap　of　blackened　stones　and　ashes　was　before　him。　The　wild　mountain…grass　was　growing　up　about　it。　　The　bee…gums　were　overturned　and　rifled。　The　garden　was　a　tangled　mass　of　weeds。　The　graves　in　the　little　family　burying…ground　were　unprotected；　the　fence　was　gone；　and　no　boards　marked　the　last　two　ragged　mounds。　Old　Gabe　had　never　told　him。　He；　too；　like　Martha；　was　homeless；　and　the　old　miller　had　been　kind　to　him；　as　the　girl's　kinspeople　had　been　to　her。

For　a　long　while　he　sat　on　the　remnant　of　the　burned　and　broken　fence；　and　once　more　the　old　tide　of　bitterness　rose　within　him　and　ebbed　away。　There　were　none　left　to　hate；　to　wreak　vengeance　on。　It　was　hard　to　leave　the　ruins　as　they　were；　and　yet　he　would　rather　leave　weeds　and　ashes　than；　like　Martha；　have　some　day　to　know　that　his　home　was　in　the　hands　of　a　stranger。　　When　he　thought　of　the　girl　he　grew　calmer；　his　own　sorrows　gave　way　to　the　thought　of　hers；　and　half　from　habit　he　raised　his　face　to　look　across　the　river。　Two　eagles　swept　from　a　dark　ravine　under　the　shelf　of　rock　where　he　had　fought　young　Jasper；　and　made　for　a　sun…lighted　peak　on　the　other　shore。　From　them　his　gaze　fell　to　Wolf's　Head　and　to　the　cabin　beneath；　and　a　name　passed　his　lips　in　a　whisper。

Then　he　took　the　path　to　the　river；　and　he　found　the　canoe　where　old　Gabe　had　hidden　it。　Before　the　young　moon　rose　he　pushed　into　the　stream　and　drifted　with　the　current。　　At　the　mouth　of　the　creek　that　ran　over　old　Gabe's　water…wheel　he　turned　the　prow　to　the　Lewallen　shore。

Not　yit！　Not　yit！　〃　he　said。　

XV

THAT　night　Rome　passed　in　the　woods；　with　his　rifle；　in　a　bed　of　leaves。　Before　daybreak　he　had　built　a　fire　in　a　deep　ravine　to　cook　his　breakfast；　and　had　scattered　the　embers　that　the　smoke　should　give　no　sign。　The　sun　was　high　when　he　crept　cautiously　in　sight　of　the　Lewallen　cabin。　It　was　much　like　his　own　home　on　the　other　shore；　except　that　the　house；　closed　and　desolate；　was　standing；　and　the　bees　were　busy。　At　the　corner　of　the　kitchen　a　rusty　axe　was　sticking　in　a　half…cut　piece　of　timber；　and　on　the　porch　was　a　heap　of　kindling　and　fire　wood…the　last　work　old　Jasper　and　his　son　had　ever　done。　In　the　Lewallens'　garden；　also；　two　graves　were　fresh；　and　the　spirit　of　neglect　and　ruin　overhung　the　place。

All　the　morning　he　waited　in　the　edge　of　the　laurel；　peering　down　the　path；　watching　the　clouds　race　with　their　shadows　over　the　mountains；　or　pacing　to　and　fro　in　his　covert　of　leaves　and　flowers。　　He　began　to　fear　at　last　that　she　was　not　coming；　that　she　was　ill；　and　once　he　started　down　the　mountain　toward　Steve　Brayton's　cabin。　　The　swift　descent　brought　him　to　his　senses；　and　he　stopped　half…way；　and　climbed　back　again　to　his　hiding…place。　　What　he　was　doing；　what　he　meant　to　do；　he　hardly　knew。　Mid…day　passed；　the　sun　fell　toward　the　mountains；　and　once　more　came　the　fierce　impulse　to　see　her；　even　though　he　must　stalk　into　the　Brayton　cabin。　　Again；　half…crazed；　he　started　impetuously　through　the　brush；　and　shrank　back；　and　stood　quiet。　　A　little　noise　down　the　path　had　reached　his　ear。　In　a　moment　he　could　hear　slow　foot…falls；　and　the　figure　of　the　girl　parted　the　pink…and…white　laurel　blossoms；　which　fell　in　a　shower　about　her　when　she　brushed　through　them。　She　passed　quite　near　him；　walking　slowly；　and　stopped　for　a　moment　to　rest　against　a　pillar　of　the　porch。　She　was　very　pale；　her　face　was　traced　deep　with　suffering；　and　she　was；　as　old　Gabe　said；　much　changed。　Then　she　went　on　toward　the　garden；　stepping　with　an　effort　over　the　low　fence；　and　leaned　as　if　weak　and　tired　against　the　apple…tree；　the　boughs　of　which　shaded　the　two　graves　at　her　feet。　　For　a　few　moments　she　stood　there；　listless；　and　Rome　watched　her　with　hungry　eyes；　at　a　loss　what　to　do。　　She　moved　presently；　and　walked　quite　around　the　graves　without　looking　at　them；　then　came　back　past　him；　and；　seating　herself　in　the　porch；　turned　her　face　to　the　river。　　The　sun　lighted　her　hair；　and　in　the　sunken；　upturned　eyes　Rome　saw　the　shimmer　of　tears。

〃Marthy！　〃　He　couldn't　help　it…the　thick；　low　cry　broke　like　a　groan　from　his　lips；　and　the　girl　was　on　her　feet；　facing　him。　　She　did　not　know　the　voice；　nor　the　shaggy；　half…wild　figure　in　the　shade　of　the　laurel；　and　she　started　back　as　if　to　run；　but　seeing　that　the　man　did　not　mean　to　harm　her；　she　stopped；　looking　for　a　moment　with　wonder　and　even　with　quick　pity　at　the　hunted　face　with　its　white　appeal。　Then　a　sudden　spasm　caught　her　throat；　and　left　her　body　rigid；　her　hands　shut；　and　her　eyes　dry　and　hard…she　knew　him。　A　slow　pallor　drove　the　flush　of　surprise　from　her　face；　and　her　lips　moved　once；　but　there　was　not　even　a　whisper　from　them。　　Rome　raised　one　hand　before　his　face；　as　though　to　ward　off　something。　〃　Don't　look　at　mc　that　way；　Marthy…my　God；　don't！　I　didn't　kill　him。　　I　sw'ar　it！　　I　give　him　a　chance　fer　his　life。　I　know；　I　know…Steve　says　he　didn't。　Thar　was　only　us　two。　　Hit　looks　ag'in'　me；　but　I　hain't　killed　one　nur　t'other。　I　let　'em　both　go。　Y'u　don't　believe　me？　〃　He　went　swiftly　toward　her；　his　gun　outstretched。　Hyeh；　gal！　　I　heerd　ye　swore　ag'　in'　me　out　thar　in　the　gyarden…'lowin'　that　you　was　goin'　to　hunt　me　down　yerself　if　the　soldiers　didn't。　Hyeh's　yer　chance！

The　girl　shrank　away　from　him；　too　startled　to　take　the　weapon；　and　he　leaned　it　against　her；　and　stood　away；　with　his　hands　behind　him。

Kill　me　ef　ye　think　I'm　a…lyin'　to　ye；〃　he　said。　〃Y'u　kin　git　even　with　me　now。　But　I　want　to　tell　ye　fust　〃…the　girl　had　caught　the　muzzle　of　the　gun　convulsively；　and　was　bending　over　it；　her　eyes　burning；　her　face　inscrutable…hit　was　a　fa'r　fight　betwixt　us；　'n'　I　whooped　him。　He　got　his　gun　then；　'n'　would　'a'　killed　me　ag'in'　his　oath　ef　he　hadn't　been　shot　fust　Hit's　so；　too；　'bout　the　crosses。　　I　made　'em；　they're　right　thar　on　that　gun；　but　whut　could　I　do　with　mam　a…standin'　right　thar　with　the　gun　'n'　Uncle　Rufe　a…tellin'　'bout　my　own　dad　layin'　in　his　blood；　'n'　Isom　'n'　the　boys　lookin'　on！　But　I　went　ag'in'　my　oath；　I　gave　him　his　life　when　I　had　the　right　to　take　it。　　I　could　'a'　killed　yer　dad　once；　'n'　I　had　the　right　to　kill　him；　too；　fer　killin'　mine；　but　I　let　him　go；　'n'　I　reckon　I　done　that　fer　ye；　too。　　'Pears　like　I　hain't　done　nothin'　sence　I　seed　ye　over　thar　in　the　mill　that　day　that　wasn't　done　fer　ye。　Somehow　ye　put　me　dead　ag'in'　my　own　kin；　'n'　tuk　away　all　my　hate　ag'in'　yourn。　　I　couldn't　fight　fer　thinkin'　I　was　fightin'　you；　'n'　when　I　seed　ye　comm'　through　the　bushes　jes　now；　so　white　'n'　sickly…like；　I　couldn't　hardly　git　breath