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Show h (f$ tfVlv Havlan HaicKer W iSL-i J '"" mtm n ' " lft'TBwiliiifWsr:hA::r:i CHAPTER XV Continued 1S i-jper hurried in after Abrnl. -pat is It, Jasper?" Cyutuia jtner! Tell me I What Is It?" ji-p'er was getting the lantern S B tie medicine-room, very enlm. 1 don't know," he said. "The '-eaare's down there in a hot '",er. She's been running hard. "e bridle's gone and the saddle's But tow would she get through e mill gate, Jasper?" "How do I know?" They were al-aadr al-aadr going through the door. Cyn-.-.!, in g panic of fear seized a i-awl and ran after them. -Wait, Jasper! Wait I I'm com-;;j com-;;j too," she cried. No, you're not I" Jasper shouted, loo stay right here and look after ;;bs till we get back." it was so sudden and imperative at it halted her on the porch. "That mare's run three or four -is," "he was still shouting from :.e yard. "We'll get back as soon ii we can." Jasper fed the Finemare and qui-kJ qui-kJ her in the stall while Abral -: tie saddle mules, and then they : le fast down Wolfpen. Cynthia, ijte, watched the jostling lantern ; -appear in the cold night Then i.e turned and went back through i; yard to the square of light in tie open door. "Women always tost sit and wait and suffer while Hi menfolk get relief in doing, setting," she sobbed at the door. The house was deathly silent. She tipped into the chair by the tillering logs and began the long (ailing. Time was no longer going on. It cswaiting with her. Cynthia, yearn-t; yearn-t; for it to move on, felt the hys-a hys-a ot being Imprisoned In an ar- ceu uiuweni wtucn would not il She paced the floor, pushing iiinst It She put a log on the .'!, watching it burn without ex-Ming ex-Ming the stopped instant of time. Ew does a body live in eternity?" j :-t stood m the open door- lo'ok-!" lo'ok-!" at the mass of Cranesnest, a tie blacker than the dark. She "fined each possible accident :' could happen, enacting it "rply In her mind, shuddering at I dismissing It, creating another Place. She filled the sputter-" sputter-" teakettle which had. boiled dry 1 ttie motionless time of the wait- f.t continued for three hours. Cyn-Li Cyn-Li Wt that more hours had fi by her in this one lone eve--8 than had gone through Wolf-t: Wolf-t: since April of a year ago. Then, ii I if jr! ifiS ii Si tnA,ays Must Sit and Wait and Suffer." lonV.hOUght She coul(J ablde 'A aft ' 1 scream'ng and Ncam. tJasper ana Abral, 'Cut 0t the dark end of ' vol Wearl,y Proceeded tann? m,,tterlg. "The yel- lT?enea , Ab:'al? Tell me what !ibna e erled' she had , i almost 'coherent, 'Piece hi- put 11 together piece l:sltrL !ngaglng the words of le' own 'hou&ht3 worn deep rPMltl0n.mild ty three no"rs '-ht on th " ding the brldIe nL ,chlthe gate by the Finemare had Nk road', .? Search UP Gannon that h anng "Sure- b0, :k anvotedi but 1 i"st MCtlng DP Gnn m"re abUt U": Cra ,Tn t0 Ferguson's Abv "I heard a l-ldidn. rl,er m the evening no attention to it hardly. Was that Spnrrel's mare? It wouldn't hardly have throwed Sparrel"; the growing body of men searching on up the creek toward Stepstone. Among the great stones by the cliff at the upper ford where the bridle trail branches off for Pike-vine, Pike-vine, they found Sparrel Pattern crumpled up In the sand. His boots still glistened with the wet from the ford. He lay on his right side, his left leg bent, his right hand clutching at the small pebbles. His head was crushed and fallen on the sand. Under the pale light of the lanterns shone sand crystals clinging cling-ing to the blood on his forehead above the dead eyes and in his hair. They carried him over to Ferguson's Fergu-son's place for the night Jasper would stay there and ride over for Jesse and the girls at daybreak. She seemed not to be hearing Abral's words now, only looking at the fire unseeing, feeling herself being crushed to death among the stones while a lantern beam fell on the sand glints in the blood. It was too much after the house alone, waiting. She collapsed into the chair and buried her face deep in both hands and cried ; not hearing Abral saying, "The stump-squattin' cowardly devils. Waylaying him, knocking in his head from behind." They laid Sparrel among the sandstones on Cranesnest Shelf. The crowd of people was so great that it filled the house, the yard and the barn-lot. All down Wolfpen as far as the mill those who felt themselves them-selves strangers stood In little groups paying respect to Sparrel Pattern. Doug Mason came as far as the bend below the orchard, and sat there on his mule, the handless arm thrust into his coat, and the sightless sight-less eye turned aside, watching them bear Cynthia's father up the path. The people wept. Lucy and Jenny cried from the house to the grave. Cynthia had wept in the night. Sparrel's voice was stopped and his feet were still, the medicine-room was empty, the desk by the mantel was closed and the ledger ledg-er was ended. There could be no more grief now, only the lonely and silent and fruitless ache of the days and the nights after the people were gone away. Cynthia felt through the first days that this sorrow could not be eased. She dreamed It at night, seeing her father not Sparrel and yet her father fa-ther among the stones which were both the stones at the upper ford and those on Cranesnest Shelf. It came over her In the daytime when, forgetting it for a time, she would feel a wondering unhappiness for an instant before there burst upon her the full weight of the sorrow. And yet the grief did mysteriously mysterious-ly lose its sharpness under the compulsion com-pulsion of daily living and working, the finality of the past event, and the gradual reassertion of young life. Jesse stayed on restlessly at the house for a few days and then went back to his law. Jenny stayed on for two nights, crying, and then went back to Horsepen Branch. Abral went again to Dry Creek where the first March rains were flooding the dam for driving the logs. Jasper rode over to town with Jesse, and when he returned he mentioned that he was marrying Jane in a few weeks now. Lucy stayed on through the week, but Cynthia could not determine whether wheth-er It was better or worse to have her In the house talking. She would hide herself away from Lucy and go over it all In her mind: the joy of the spring before Shellenberger came, the foreboding when Sparrel sold the land, the wonder of Reuben Warren on that afternoon with a compass on his arm, the slow and sinister way the outside world had pushed Into Dry Creek and then reached out for Doug Mason, for her mother Julia, for the father Sparrel, for the old way of life Wolfpen had known so long. She thought of the brutal irrevocability ir-revocability of the blunt stone on her father's skull in the hands of wicked men. And nothing to do about It except wait for Sheriff Hatler to find the murderer and kill him under the law while her father met the dissolution on Cranesnest. Now "they were both gone and Jasper Jas-per would bring Jane Burden to this place In Julia's stead. In Cynthia's stead. Surely It was all done now. She wondered whether Reuben were still out In the hills and where, and if he knew. And while she was yet wondering wonder-ing he came. It was late afternoon on a warm day In March a week after the burial of Sparrel. There was a moist wind in the hollow with the breath of spring In It, and the sun almost ready to move the col orless days our. or the hills, foreseeing fore-seeing April on Us siow way u from the south. Cynthia was bending over a skillet skill-et with un iron spoon in her hand when she heard the gate click. She laid the spoon on the back of the stove before she went to the door to see who it could be. She stood transformed in the doorway looking at him, not daring to believe it was Heuben, thinking he must be far away at the other end of the river. She was wordless before him in her joy. For one brief instant she looked down reflectively at her dress to make sure she was not reliving re-living those humiliating moments of the late spring, hot, burned, weeping, weep-ing, spattered with corn-meaL But she was cool and unhurried, and the tan dress was clean and fresh. Reuben Reu-ben saw at once that under the responsibility re-sponsibility and sorrow of the months she had grown in character charac-ter nnd loveliness. She was a woman wom-an and not a child, but it was the woman the girl of the summer had portended. They looked at each other in complete com-plete silence and without movement. move-ment. Then Cynthia stepped through her transfiguration down to the porch, and Reuben came to her with his eyes shining. She felt herself swept toward him, and away from grief. "Reuben !" "Cynthia !" Then she gave him her hand, bringing the moment back from this exalted reach to the more familiar plane where human beings meet In speech. "You know?" she said. "Yes, Cynthia. I am sorry." "How did you learn?" "It was in the paper at home day before yesterday, I started as soon as I heard." "I am glad you came, Reuben." "I wish I could have come sooner." Lucy had come in haste to the kitchen and then to the door. "Cynthia, "Cyn-thia, I smell supper. . . . Oh!" The beautiful moment of their meeting was ended. The coming of Reuben seemed to break into the fixed mood of solemnity so-lemnity that had settled over the house since Sparrel's death. Sometimes Some-times at the supper, without forgetting forget-ting the dead, they almost recaptured recap-tured the excitement of the spring before. And after they had talked over In hushed words all the story of the past weeks, it did not seem inappropriate to think of themselves them-selves and to mention other places. The sun continued through the following day, the warmth flowing down the hollows. "It begins to have a touch of spring," Reuben said. "You said you would come back in the spring." "Yes. Let's walk a little way." "Up to the rock by the sycamore," syca-more," she suggested. They went by the desolate garden gar-den which had been full of Julia's flowers last July, and came to the stone where they had first sat together. to-gether. The sun lay warm on the stone. The brown pods on the sycamore syc-amore tree jangled in the wind at the end of yellowing limbs barren of leaves. "It seems like she ought to be there in the garden," Reuben said. "You thought that, too?" Cynthia cried. "Yes. I have thought of this place often," he said. "I have not been here since," she said, "but I have thought myself here. Do you believe some places like this get to be a part of of what two people are to each other?" "Yes, Cynthia. This place will always be you and me." She looked full at him seriously for an Instant, knowing by his voice and his eyes that they were speaking speak-ing the same language in the same world. She had never before, even in her dreams of Lady Arabella and the pear tree, been more radiant, radi-ant, as though this moment were the appointed one for the unfolding of the essential woman out of sorrow sor-row into happiness. They were leaning against the stone, silent. He slipped hi3 arm around her waist. She did not withhold herself, and she was half startled at the thought of her forwardness. He held her left hand in his, and with his right hand she brushed at the moss on the stone. She felt herself being be-ing reborn, almost trembling and in awe before the smile of God which changed the world so soon since yesterday. "It's wonderful to see you again," Reuben said. "I've stood on a ridge waiting for the ax-men to clear a line through the brush and heard the doves make that lonesome sound and I thought about you up here on Wolfpen. I have wanted you." She surrendered to her Joy without with-out speaking, watching the sun on the top of Cranesnest, listening to his voice nnd making her own unspoken un-spoken words. "You've had a lot of trouble," he said. "I've thought about that So many things can happen all of a sudden." "Yes," she said finally, "things you don't ever dream could happen." "I think you've about had your share now, Cynthia." She had never talked to anyone of her grief. Now she was overcome over-come by the moment by her feelings feel-ings and his sympathy, and she unloosed un-loosed to him all that had been tl'dit In her heart so long: the sickness sick-ness and quick death of Julia. Sparrel's wordless unhappiness and rriwins concern over Dry Creek. Lion- Mason, Jesse's goin? away, "ivin" up the Institute to look after things, the break-up of the place, and Jasper's approaching marriage. As she talked, she drew nearer to him and it was wonderful to her to feel the miracle of the burden lifting and the heart being purged! of its heaviness. Reuben put his hand on her cheek, pulling her face gently to confront his own. There were tears in her eyes. His arm tightened around her. It did not seem forward to her now to be in his arms In this hollow. The growth of their affection had been constant in the months of separation and needed only this brief intimacy to reveal Itself full blown. "Cynthia," he said. She looked at him. "I've been thinking and making a lot of plans since I left here." He hesitated an instant, looking into her eyes. Then he continued: "There's two or three years of work down In Boyd and the neighboring neigh-boring counties just surveying the land the iron works companies are buying up. They're putting up another an-other blast furnace and a nail mill. I do nearly all the field work now. And Catlettsburg is a pretty place. After you pass the center of town and the stores you come to a wide street with sidewalks and trees and nice houses in big yards. Then the hill begins, not a high hill, just a river hill. And about half-way up there is a little house in a cherry and apple orchard with a garden behind it It's painted white and has a wide porch and there arA three sets of steps up from the ' He Kissed Her. street You look right out over the town and the treetops to the Ohio river and where the Big Sandy comes around West Virginia, and across to the farms in Ohio all the way back to the hills. You can see the big boats on the river, and the little ones on the Big Sandy and the rafts that come floating down both rivers. There's a new steam ferry to South Point and a new-wharf. new-wharf. You can see the trains going go-ing up to Richardson and down to Ashland and Cincinnati. It's not like here on Wolfpen, but it is a nice place." "It sounds like a right nice place. Does somebody live in it?" "Right now some people live in it, but next month they're going to move to a place over In Coalgrove In Ohio where he's going to work, and then It will be empty." She was trying to picture this place and all the bustling life it looked out upon, laying it in her mind's eye beside the quiet and seclusion se-clusion of Wolfpen where she had spent her life, "Cynthia." She blotted out everything else and looked up into his eyes. "I love you more than anything. Will you do me the honor to be my wife and come down there and live with me?" It wasn't that she was surprised or actually taken unawares. It was just the hearing of it A warm flush overspread her face. She dropped her eyes to the moss on the stone and then lifted them beyond be-yond it through the bare sycamore limbs to the cloud fluff above the Pinnacle golden in the sun. "Will vou?" he said. "Yes, Reuben, if you want me to," she said. "When?" "April." He kissed her, holding her tight In his arms, and it was natural and Inevitable like a curled wave forming form-ing far out under the sky and moving mov-ing always shoreward till it breaks at last on the rim of warm sand. "I love you more than anything," he said. "And I love yon, Reuben." Every burden oppressive to men, commanding pity for their unhappy lot, writing the marks of suffering below their eyes, and warping the: lines about their mouth, was re-1 moved from them as they walked slowly down the hollow while the sun was hurrying out of the valley In Its endless flight before the stars. And through their eyes made bright by the high passion of their hope, the world was a new and beautiful place wherein no sorrow and no failure could ever Intrude (TO BE C0T1SUED) |