The Man Thou Gavest Part 13

"How?"

And now she looked at him. Her eyes were dark, her face deadly pale; her lips were so red that in the whiteness they seemed the only trace of colour.

"How do I know? Why because--nothing else matters. It seems like I've been coming all my life to it--and now it just says: 'Here I am, Nella-Rose--here'!"

"I, too, have been coming to it all my life, little girl. I did not know--I was driven. I rebelled, because I did not know; but nothing else _does_ matter, when--love gets you!"

"No. Nothing matters." The girl's voice was rapt and dreamy. Truedale put his hands across the s.p.a.ce dividing them and took hold of hers.

"You will be--mine, Nella-Rose?"

"Seems like I must be!"

"Yes. Doesn't it? Do you--you must understand, dear? I mean to live the rest of my life here in the hills--your hills. You once said one was of the hills or one wasn't; will they let me stay?"

"Yes"--almost fiercely--"but--but your folks--off there--will they let you stay?"

"I have no folks, Nella-Rose. I'm lonely and poor--at least I was until I found you! The hills have given me--everything; I mean to serve them well in return. I want you for my wife, Nella-Rose; we'll make a home--somewhere--it doesn't matter; it will be a shelter for our love and--" He stopped short. Reality and conventions made a last vain appeal. "I don't want you ever again to go out of my sight. You're mine and nothing could make that different--but" (and this came quickly, desperately) "there must be a minister somewhere--let's go to him! Do not let us waste another precious day. When he makes you mine by his"--Truedale was going to say "ridiculous jargon" but he modified it to--"his authority, no one in all G.o.d's world can take you from me.

Come, come _now_, sweetheart!"

In another moment he would have had her in his arms, but she held him off.

"I'm mighty afraid of old Jim White!" she said.

Truedale laughed, but the words brought him to his senses.

"Then you must go, darling, until White returns. After I have explained to him I will come for you, but first let me hold you--so! and kiss you--so! This is why--you must go, my love!"

She was in his arms, her lifted face pressed to his. She s.h.i.+vered, but clung to him for a moment and two tears rolled down her cheeks--the first he had ever seen escape her control. He kissed them away.

"Of what are you thinking, Nella-Rose?"

"Thinking? I'm not thinking; I'm--happy!"

"My--sweetheart!" Again Truedale pressed his lips to hers.

"Us-all calls sweetheart--'doney-gal'!"

"My--my doney-gal, then!"

"And"--the words came m.u.f.fled, for Truedale was holding her still--"and always I shall see your face, now. It came to-day like it came long ago.

It will always come and make me glad."

Truedale lifted her from his breast and held her at arms' length. He looked deep into her eyes, trying to pierce through her ignorance and childishness to find the elusive woman that could meet and bear its part in what lay before. Long they gazed at each other--then the light in Nella-Rose's face quivered--her mouth drooped.

"I'm going now," she said, "going till Jim White comes back."

"Wait--my--"

But the girl had slipped from his grasp; she was gone into the misty, threatening grayness that had closed in about them while love had carried them beyond their depths. Then the rain began to fall--heavy, warning drops. The wind, too, was rising sullenly like a monster roused from its sleep and slowly gathering power to vent its rage.

Into this darkening storm Nella-Rose fled unheedingly. She was not herself--not the girl of the woods, wise in mountain lore; she was bewitched and half mad with the bewildering emotions that, at one moment frightened her--the next, carried her closer to the spiritual than she had ever been.

CHAPTER VII

Alone in his cabin, Truedale was conscious of a sort of groundless terror that angered him. The storm could not account for it--he had the advantage of ignorance there! Certainly his last half-hour could not be responsible for his sensations. He justified every minute of it by terms as old as man's desires and his resentment of restrictions. "Our lives are our own!" he muttered, setting to work to build a fire and to light the lamp. "They will all come around to my way of seeing things when I have made good and taken her back to them!"

Still this arguing brought no peace, and more and more Truedale found himself relying upon Jim White's opinions. In that troubled hour the sheriff stood like a rugged sign post in the path. One unflinching finger pointed to the past; the other--to the future.

"Well! I've chosen," thought Truedale; "it's the new way and--thank G.o.d!" But he felt that the future could be made possible or miserable by Jim's favour or disapproval.

Having decided to follow upon White's counsel, Truedale mentally prayed for his return, and at once. The fact was, Truedale was drugged and he had just sense enough left to know it! He vaguely realized that the half-hour with Nella-Rose had been a dangerous epoch in his life. He was safe, thank heaven! but he dared not trust himself just now without a stronger will to guide him!

While he busied himself at feeding the animals, preparing and clearing away his own evening meal, he grew calmer. The storm was gaining in fury--and he was thankful for it! He was shut away from possible temptation; he even found it easy to think of Kendall and of Lynda, but he utterly eliminated his uncle from his mind. Between him and old William Truedale the gulf seemed to have become impa.s.sable!

And while Truedale sank into an unsafe mental calm, Nella-Rose pushed her way into the teeth of the storm and laughed and chattered like a mad and lost little nymph. Wind and rain always exhilarated her and the fury of the elements, gaining force every minute, did not alarm her while the memory of her great experience held sway over her. She shook her hair back from her wide, vague eyes. She was undecided where to go for the night--it did not matter greatly; to-morrow she would go again to Truedale, or he would come to her. At last she settled upon seeking the shelter of old Lois Ann, in Devil-may-come Hollow, and turned in that direction.

It was eight o'clock then and Truedale, with his books and papers on the table before him, declared: "I am quite all right now," and fell to work upon the ma.n.u.script that earlier had engrossed him.

As the time sped by he was able to visualize the play; _he_ was sitting in the audience--he beheld the changing scenes and the tense climax. He even began to speculate upon the particular star that would be fitted for the leading part. His one extravagance, in the past, had been cut-rate seats in the best theatres.

Suddenly the mood pa.s.sed and all at once Truedale realized that he was tired--deadly tired. The perspiration stood on his forehead--he ached from the strain of cramped muscles. Then he looked at his watch; it was eleven o'clock! The stillness out of doors bespoke a sullen break in the storm. A determined drip-drip from roof and trees was like the ticking of a huge clock running down, but good for some time. The fire had died out, not a bit of red showed in the ashes, but the room was hot, still.

Truedale decided to go to bed without it, and, having come to that conclusion, he bent his head upon his folded arms and sank into a deep sleep.

Suddenly he awoke. The room was cold and dark! The lamp had burned itself out and the storm was again howling in its second attack. Chilled and obsessed by an unnerving sense of danger, Truedale waited for--he knew not what! Just then something pressed against his leg and he put his hand down thinking one of the dogs was crouching close, but a whispered "s.h.!.+" set every muscle tense.

"Nella-Rose?"

"Yes--but, oh! be mighty still. They may be here any minute."

"They? Who?"

"All of them. Jed Martin, my father, and the others--the ones who are friends of--of--"

"Whom, Nella-Rose?"

"Burke Lawson! He's back--and they think--oh! they think they are on his trail--here! I--I was trying to get away but the streams were swollen and the big trees were bending and--and I hid behind a rock and--I heard!

"First it was Jed and father; they said they were going to shoot--they'd given up catching Burke alive! Then they went up-stream and the--the others came--the friends, and they 'lowed that Burke was here and they meant to get here before Jed and--and da some killing on their side.

I--I thought it was fun when they-all meant to take Burke alive, but now--oh! now can't you see?--they'll shoot and find out afterward! They may come any minute! I put the light out. Come, we must leave the cabin empty-looking--like you had gone--and hide!"

The breathless whispering stopped and Truedale collected his senses in the face of this real danger.

"But you--you must not be here, Nella-Rose!"