Heart of the Blue Ridge Part 11

"An' now I got jest one leetle favor to ax o' ye, Seth Jones. You-all knows as how the gals in this-hyar kentry air partic'lar proud to have a weddin' ring made from the gold washed out o' the soil in Pleasant Valley by their sweetheart. Wall, I talked a heap 'bout hit to f.a.n.n.y, an', when she showed signs like she'd give in to me, I went an' panned the gold fer the ring. f.a.n.n.y'd be right-smart disapp'inted not to have a lover-made ring, I reckon. So, bein' as you-all only got one arm, I wants ye to take this-hyar ring, an' wed her proper with the blessin'

an' best wishes o' Uncle d.i.c.k Siddon."

He offered the ring, which was gratefully accepted, and the two old men parted on excellent terms.

At eleven o'clock the next morning, Uncle d.i.c.k was sitting on the porch, when he saw a horse pa.s.sing over the trail toward the south. In the saddle was the erect, spruce figure of the one-armed veteran, Seth Jones. And, on a blanket strapped behind the saddle to serve as pillion, rode a woman, with her arms clasped around the man's waist.

It was the Widow Brown, dressed all in gala white.

It was, indeed, heigh-ho for the parson!

Uncle d.i.c.k stared fixedly until the two had vanished beyond the brow of the hill. Then, at last, he stirred, and his eyes roved over his home and its surroundings wistfully. He sighed heavily. But he himself would have been hard put to it to tell whether that sigh held more of regret, or of relief.

CHAPTER XIV

While her grandfather was still on the porch, and her sister was out of the house, Plutina possessed herself of the new revolver, with its holster, which, after slipping down her gown from the shoulder, she attached under the left arm-pit. The looseness of the ill-fitting garment concealed the weapon effectually enough. For ready access, the upper b.u.t.tons to the throat were left unfastened, in seeming relief against the heat of midday. Thus equipped, the girl stole out through the back way, un.o.bserved by her relations, to keep tryst with the desperado.

As she followed a blind trail that shortened the distance between the Siddon cabin and the Holloman Gate to a short two miles, Plutina was torturing a brain already overtaxed in the effort to devise some means whereby she might wreck the projects of the villain, without at the same time bringing ruin on herself, or those she loved. Always, however, her thoughts went spinning toward the same vortex of destruction. She could, indeed, contrive nothing better than the policy of cajolery on which she had first determined, and to this course, as it seemed to her, she must cling, though her good sense was well advised of its futility. She knew that a scoundrel of Hodges unrestrained pa.s.sions could not long be held from his infamous purposes by any art of hers. At the best, she might hope perhaps to delay the catastrophe only by hours. In her discouraged state, she admitted that it would be quite impossible to restrain him until the law should come to her aid. She was determined none the less to employ every resource at her command, in order to postpone decisive action.

One thing was at once her chief reliance and her chief source of fear: the outlaw's pa.s.sion for her. In his brutal fas.h.i.+on, the man loved her. That fact gave her power over him, even while it exposed her to the worst peril at his hands.

The presence of the revolver comforted her mightily. From time to time, she moved her right hand stealthily across her bosom, to rea.s.sure a failing courage by feeling the stiff leather of the holster under the gown. She was experienced in the use of weapons. Her rifle had often contributed to the cabin larder. Muscles that knew no tremor and a just eye had given her a skill in marksmans.h.i.+p much beyond the average, even in this region where firearms were forever in the hands of the men, and familiar to the women. Once, her moving fingers felt the little bag hanging from its leathern thong about her neck, in which was the fairy crystal. The hardness of her expression vanished on the instant, and in its stead was a wonderful tenderness. A world of yearning shone in the dark l.u.s.tres of the eyes, and the curving lips drooped in pathetic wistfulness. Her soul went out toward the distant lover in a very frenzy of desire. She felt the longing well in her, a craving so agonized that nothing else mattered, neither life nor death. Had the power been hers then, she would have summoned him across the void. The loneliness was a visible, tangible monster, beating in upon her, crus.h.i.+ng her with hideous, remorseless strength.

Her man must come back!

It was the mood of a moment, no more. Even as she thrilled with the anguished longing she lifted her eyes, and halted, aghast at the scene before her. There, close at hand to the southeast, Stone Mountain upreared its huge and rugged bulk. It loomed implacable, with the naked cliffs staring grotesquely. It overhung her like immutable fate, silent, pitiless. There was sinister significance in its aspect, for just before her lay the cavernous shadows of the Devil's Cauldron. The girl's gaze went to the verge of the precipice far above. It followed down the wild tumblings of the little stream, fed from lofty springs.

It descended in the last long leap of the waters into the churning pool. And she had a vision of the man she loved, bound, and helpless--dead perhaps, shot from behind--and now thrust out from the verge into the abyss, to go hurtling into the mist-wreathed depths....

No, Zeke must not come back. The hardness crept again into her face, as she went forward. She held her eyes averted from that gruesome cavern high in the mountain's face.

The girl came soon to the Holloman Gate, which swung across the trail near the west end of the mountain. Tall poplars and spruce made an ample shade, but a glance toward the sun showed it at the zenith. She was prompt to the rendezvous; it was the lover who was laggard. She wondered a little at that, but with no lightening of her mood. She was sure that he would come all too speedily. She stood waiting in misery, leaning listlessly against the fence, her gaze downcast. The geranium blossoms touched the sward richly with color; the rhododendrons flaunted the loveliness of their flowering round about the spot. A delicate medley of birds' songs throbbed from out the thickets; a tiny stream purled over its pebbled bed in the ravine that entrenched the trail. Plutina gave no heed. She saw and she heard, but, in this hour, she was without response to any charm of sight or of sound. Yet, that she was alert was proven presently, for her ear caught the faint crackle of a twig snapping. It was a little way off--somewhere along the line of the brush-grown fence, on the same side of the trail. She peered steadily in the direction of the noise. When her eyes became accustomed to the shadows, she made out the figure of a man, crouched in a corner of the fence, behind the screen of a bush. He was no more than three or four rods from her. She was sure even that she recognized him--Gary Hawks, one of the most vicious of the Hodges gang, but notorious for cowardice. She was puzzled for only a moment by the presence of the fellow. Then, she realized that he doubtless was acting under his leader's orders. It was another menace against her own safety. The fingers of her hand went once again for encouragement to the holster beneath her arm.

Plutina gave no sign that she had discovered the lurking man's presence. But, after a minute, she retraced her steps a little way along the trail, until she came to a point where there was a clear s.p.a.ce on either side, which was out of hearing from the fence line.

She had scarcely reached the place, when Hodges appeared, his bare feet trudging swiftly. His head, too, was bare. In the hollow of his left arm lay the long rifle. He was approaching from the east, and halted at the gate, without having observed the girl beyond it. He whistled a soft note as a signal if she should be anywhere about.

Plutina called out softly in answer.

"Hyar, Dan!" As he looked toward her, she beckoned him to approach.

Hodges shook his head in dissent, and, by a gesture, bade her come to him. But, when she showed no sign of obeying, he moved forward, scowling, ferociously. The girl seemed undaunted. She spoke curtly in rebuke:

"'Pears to me, Dan Hodges, like ye hain't very prompt, seein' as how I've been a-waiting hyar a quarter-hour fer ye. When a man loves a gal, he gen'rally gits to the place sot ahead o' her. Ye hain't a-startin' right to win me, Dan, an' so I'm a-tellin' ye fair."

"You-all orter have more sense than hang out hyar in the sun. Come back to the gate, under the shade o' the sarvis bushes." He turned away, but paused as the girl made no movement to follow. "What in h.e.l.l's the matter on ye?" he demanded, angrily. "This place in the rud hain't fitten fer talk, nohow."

"Hit's fitten 'nough fer me," Plutina retorted, quietly. A mellow laugh sounded. "Seems to me this-hyar bright suns.h.i.+ne orter warm yer love up some, Dan. We'll stay hyar, I reckon. I'm afeared o' snakes an' eavesdroppers an' sech critters thar in the shade."

The man was racked by many emotions. He had come swiftly under the hot sun, and the haste and the heat had irritated him. The sight of the girl moved him to fierce pa.s.sion of desire. He was aflame with eagerness to take her within his arms, there where were the cool shadows. Her indifference to his command exasperated him; her final refusal infuriated him. In the rush of feeling he lost what little judgment he might otherwise have had. He had meant to placate her by a temporary gentleness, to be offset by future brutalities. Now, in his rage, he forgot discretion under the p.r.i.c.king of lawless impulse. He reached out and dropped a huge hand on Plutina's shoulder, and twisted her about with a strength she was powerless to resist. The clutch of his fingers cut cruelly into her flesh, firm though it was, and she winced. He grinned malevolently.

"Git back thar as I done tol' ye," he rasped; "afore ye git wuss."

With a deft twist of the body, Plutina stood free. The face, which had paled, flushed darkly. The eyes blazed. The head was uplifted in scorn. Her aspect awed the man, and he hesitated, gaping at her. Yet her voice was very soft when she spoke. The tone surprised her listener, rendered him strangely uneasy, for some reason he could not understand.

"Thet ten minutes ye was late was more'n I had need fer, Dan Hodges,"

she said. "I promised ye yer answer hyar, an' I'm a-goin' to give hit to ye right now."

She lifted an arm, and pointed to where the Devil's Cauldron blotched the cliffs of the mountainside ... It was her left arm that she lifted.

"Look, Dan! See thet-thar big hole in the wall. I been a-lookin' at hit, Dan. I 'low you-all don't dast look at hit. Mebby ye're afeared o' seein' the bones o' them hit holds--bones o' dead men--what you-all an' yer gang hev kilt an' slid into the pot, to lie hid till Jedgment.

Hit's thar ye're aimin' to put my Zeke. Why, a haar o' his head's wuth more'n the hull caboodle of sech murderers as yew be."

She stepped closer to the outlaw, and spoke with unleashed hate. He flinched at the change.

"I was skeered o' ye back thar on the piazzy yist'-day, an' I lied to ye, kase I was skeered. I wasn't a-likin' the look in them pig eyes o'

your'n. An' I was a-feared o' Gran'pap's hearin' how I reported the still. Wall, now I hain't skeered no more. I promised ye yer answer at the gate. We'll move over thar, an' I'll keep my promise."

Before he could guess her purpose, before he could s.h.i.+ft the rifle from the hollow of his arm, the fingers of Plutina's right hand had slipped within the open bodice. The Colt's flashed in the sunlight.

The level barrel lay motionless, in deadly readiness. For the girl, though not yet quite sure, was almost sure that she would kill Dan Hodges.

The idea had not come to her until this meeting. In all the racking hours of thought, this simple solution of the difficulty had never entered her mind. Now, at its coming, she welcomed it with infinite relief. It offered a means of escape so simple and so sure--escape for herself and for those she loved. It was the touch of the man that had wrought the miracle of revolt. She had felt herself polluted by the contact. On the instant, the hypocrisy of cajoling was no longer possible. But there was more in the effect than that. The savagery of the outlaw aroused the savagery in her. She became, in the twinkling of an eye, the primitive woman. There was little in the sentiment of her people to dam the outburst. Her kin had followed the lex talionis.

They had killed their fellows for the sake of their proper pride. The blood-feud was familiar to her, and she knew no shame in it. Why should she not slay this creature who outraged her self-respect, who threatened her every hope? Her finger on the trigger of the revolver tensed ever so slightly.

The man felt the vibration of her impulse and cringed. He was in a daze before this violence of attack, where he had expected only supine yielding. In his creed, the beating of women marked manliness. The drabs he had caressed crept and fawned under his blows, like whipped curs. He could not realize this challenge by the girl with his own method of might. But he saw clearly enough through the haze of fear that the blue barrel was trained exactly upon him, that the slim hand held it rigid, and he knew that, in this instant, he was very, very close to death. The red of his face changed to a mottled purple. He felt himself trembling.

Plutina perceived the abject terror of the man. It mitigated her wrath with scorn, and so saved him for the moment. She cried out to him fiercely, her voice rough with abhorrence.

"To the gate fer yer answer, ye cowardly houn'. Move quick, er I'll drap ye in yer tracks, ye murderin' wolf. Do as I say!"

She moved another step toward him. Her voice rose shrill:

"Drap thet rifle-gun!"

The weapon slipped from Hodges' nerveless fingers, and fell on the turf with a soft thud.

"Put up yer han's!"

Cowed, the man thrust his long arms to their length above his head.

"Now, turn round, an' march to the gate!"

There was no faltering in the obedience.

The hulking bully knew that he was in mortal peril. For his life's sake, he dared neither word nor gesture of resistance to the girl's will. His only hope was that the hidden ally might somehow come to his aid. But the hope was feeble. He knew the other's craven spirit.

Plutina, too, knew it. As she drove her captive to the gate, she peered, and saw the crouching figure still in the shadows behind the bush. The Colt's cracked. Even as Hodges shuddered, imagining the tearing of the bullet through his own flesh, there came a shriek of pain from beyond him. The hidden man leaped forth, his right arm dangling clumsily. He scrambled into the cover of the spruces and vanished. The noises of his flight lessened, died.

"I've scotched a snake," Plutina said, malignantly. "Hit's about time to kill the dawg, I reckon. Turn round." Then, when he had obeyed, she went on speaking. "Now, hyar at the gate, I'll tell ye somethin'.