Part 36 (1/2)
”Why ain't you at Poole's Woods?” The fire was dying down a little, but one persistent flame moved like a snake in the dry stubble, and he savagely stamped it out. ”Why ain't you? I come after you.”
”You didn't wait, did you?”
”Old Mis' Drake said you were goin' with Briggs.”
”Did I tell you so?”
He weakened a little.
”N-no! But she said you'd been down talkin' it over an' Oliver'd gone to ketch the colt. She offered me the spy-gla.s.s.”
Isabel's lips had a little line of white about them. She looked full at him now.
”Did you take it, Jim?”
”Take it? No!” he roared at her. ”Do you think I'd do a thing like that?”
They stood looking at each other, glance holding glance, their eyes blazing. Suddenly he threw the rake as if he had been throwing down a s.h.i.+eld and held out his arms to her. Isabel walked into them, and while they kissed, her father's straw hat slipped back over her shoulders, and she laughed and never missed the fluffy headgear lying in her room upstairs, waiting for Poole's Woods. Suddenly she remembered that they were out in the broad sunlight, in sight of the road, and then she bethought her that all the town had gone to Poole's Woods to leave them the world alone to kiss in. She remembered, too, that old Mrs. Drake's spy-gla.s.s might be trained on them at that moment.
”I don't care,” she said, and laughed.
”Don't care for what?” asked her lover, his lips at her ear.
”For anything. There! let me go. Here's some more fire in the gra.s.s.”
They stamped and raked quite soberly for a moment, and then Isabel began to laugh again. She looked wild and beautiful in her fight with the earth and her own heart. Jim laughed a little, too.
”What is it, Bell?” he asked.
”I don't know,” she said, in the ecstasy of happiness. ”I guess I like a burnfire.”
When it died still lower, they walked toward the house, hand in hand, and sat there on the steps watching it.
”Well,” said Bryant, smiling at her, ”you want to go to Poole's Woods?”
Isabel smiled back.
”I guess so,” she said. ”We can be there by luncheon-time.”
”All right. I'll go home an' harness up.” Half-way down the path he stopped and turned. ”Say, Isabel!”
She answered from the porch on her way in to don the muslin dress.
”What is it?”
”You never told me what you were down there for.”
”Where?”