THE summons was from his father,and was emphatic;and Clayton did not delay.The girl accepted his departure with a pale face,but with a quiet submission that touched him.Of Raines he had seen nothing and heard nothing since the night he had left the cabin in anger;but as he came down the mountain after bidding Easter good-by,he was startled by the mountaineer stepping from the bushes into the path.
Ye air a-goin'home,I hear,"he said,quietly.
"Yes,"answered Clayton;"at midnight."
Well,I'll walk down with ye a piece,ef ye don't mind.Hit's not out o'my way."As he spoke his face was turned suddenly to the moonlight.The lines in it had sunk deeper,giving it almost an aged look;the eyes were hollow as from physical suffering or from fasting.He preceded Clayton down the path,with head bent,and saying nothing till they reached the spur of the mountain.Then in the same voice:
"I want to talk to ye awhile,'n'I'd like to hev ye step inter my house.I don't mean ye no harm,"he added,quickly,"'n'hit ain't fer."Certainly,"said Clayton.
The mountaineer turned into the woods by a narrow path,and soon the outlines of a miserable little hut were visible through the dark woods.Raines thrust the door open.The single room was dark except for a few dull coals in a gloomy cavern which formed the fireplace.
Sit down,ef ye kin find a cheer,"said Raines,"'n'I'll fix up the fire."Do you live here alone?"asked Clayton.He could hear the keen,smooth sound of the mountaineer's knife going through wood.
"Yes,"he answered;"fer five year."
The coals brightened;tiny flames shot from them;in a moment the blaze caught the dry fagots,and shadows danced over the floor,wall,and ceiling,and vanished as the mountaineer rose from his knees.The room was as bare as the cell of a monk.A rough bed stood in one corner;a few utensils hung near the fireplace,wherein were remnants of potatoes roasting in the ashes,and close to the wooden shutter which served as a window was a board table.
On it lay a large book-a Bible-a pen,a bottle of ink,and a piece of paper on which were letters traced with great care and difficulty.
The mountaineer did not sit down,but began pacing the floor behind Clayton.Clayton moved his chair,and Raines seemed unconscious of his presence as with eyes on the floor he traversed the narrow width of the cabin.
Y'u hevn't seed me up on the mount 'in lately,hev ye?"he asked.
"I reckon ye haven't missed me much.Do ye know whut I've been doin'?"he said,with sudden vehemence,stopping still and resting his eyes,which glowed like an animal's from the darkened end of the cabin,on Clayton.
"I've been tryin'to keep from killin'ye.Oh,don't move-don't fear now;ye air as safe as ef ye were down in the camp.I seed ye that night on the mount'in,"he continued,pacing rapidly back and forth."I was waitin'fer ye.I meant to tell ye jest whut I'm goin'to tell ye ter-night;'n'when Easter come a-tearin'through the bushes,'n'I seed ye-ye-a-standin'together "-the words seemed to stop in his throat-"I knowed I was too late.
"I sot thar fer a minute like a rock,'n'when ye two went back up the mount'in,before I knowed it I was hyer in the house thar at the fire mouldin'a bullet to kill ye with as ye come back.All at oncet I heerd a voice plain as my own is at this minute:
"'Air you a-thinkin''bout takin'the life of a fellow-creatur,Sherd Raines-you that air tryin'to be a servant o'the Lord?'""But I kept on a-mouldin','n'suddenly I seed ye a-layin'in the road dead,'n'the heavens opened 'n'the face o'the Lord was thar,'n'he raised his hand to smite me with the brand o'Cain-'n'look thar!"Clayton had sat spellbound by the terrible earnestness of the man,and as the mountaineer swept his dark hair back with one hand,he rose in sudden horror.Across the mountaineer's forehead ran a crimson scar yet unhealed.Could he have inflicted upon himself this fearful penance?
Oh,it was only the moulds.I seed it all so plain that I throwed up my hands,fergittin'the moulds,'n'the hot lead struck me thar;but,"he continued,solemnly,"I knowed the Lord hed tuk that way o'punishin'me fer the sin o havin'murder in my mind,'n'I fell on my knees right thar a-prayin'fer fergiveness:'n'since that night Ihev stayed away from ye till the Lord give me power to stand ag'in the temptation o'harmin'ye.He hev showed me another way,'n'now I hev come to ye as he hev tol'me.I hevn't tol'ye this fer nothin'.Y'u in see now whut I think o'Easter,ef I was tempted to take the life o'the man who tuk her from me,'n'I reckon ye will say I've got the right to ax ye whut I'm a-goin'to.I hev knowed the gal sence she was a baby.We was children together,and thar hain't no use hidin'that I never keered a straw fer anuther woman.
