Part 7 (2/2)
He held out his arms to her. ”No, I can't sit that way; you can see that. The good book says, 'Ye must repent and be born again.'” He groaned and covered his face with his hands. ”Then you would be a new man, without sin. I reckon you have suffered a heap, and repented a heap--since you did that, Frale?”
”I'm 'feared--I'm 'feared ef he war here an' riled me agin like he done that time--I'm 'feared I'd do hit agin--like he war talkin' 'bouts you, Ca.s.s.” He rose and stood close to her.
The soft dusk was wrapping them about, and she began to fear lest she lose her control over him. She took up the bundle of food and placed it in his hand.
”Here, take this, and the coat, too, Frale. Come down and have suppah with mothah and me to-night, and sleep in your own bed. They won't search here for one while, I reckon, and you'll be safah than hiding in Wild Cat Hole. Hoyle heard them say they reckoned you'd lit off down the mountain, and were hiding in some near-by town. They'll hunt you there first; come.”
She walked on, and he obediently followed. ”When we get nigh the house, I'll go first and see if the way is clear. You wait back. If I want you to run, I'll call twice, quick and sharp, but if I want you to come right in, I'll call once, low and long.”
After that no word was spoken. They clambered down the steep, winding path, and not far from the house she left him. She wondered Nig did not bound out to greet her, but supposed he must be curled up near the hearth in comfort. Frale also thought of the dog as he sat cowering under the laurel shrubs, and set his teeth in anguish and sorrow.
”Ca.s.s'll hate hit when she finds out,” he muttered.
After a moment, waiting and listening, he heard her long, low call float out to him. Falling on his hurt spirit, it sounded heavenly sweet.
CHAPTER V
IN WHICH Ca.s.sANDRA GOES TO DAVID WITH HER TROUBLE, AND GIVES FRALE HER PROMISE
After his sleep on Hanging Rock, David, allured by the sunset, remained long in his doorway idly smoking his pipe, and ruminating, until a normal and delightful hunger sent him striding down the winding path toward the blazing hearth where he had found such kindly welcome the evening before. There, seated tilted back against the chimney side, he found a huge youth, innocent of face and gentle of mien, who rose as he entered and offered him his chair, and smiled and tossed back a falling lock from his forehead as he gave him greeting.
”This hyar is Doctah Thryng, Frale, who done me up this-a-way. He 'lows he's goin' to git me well so's I can walk again. How air you, suh? You certainly do look a heap better'n when you come las' evenin'.”
”So I am, indeed. And you?” David's voice rang out gladly. He went to the bed and bent above the old woman, looking her over carefully. ”Are you comfortable? Do the weights hurt you?” he asked.
”I cyan't say as they air right comfortable, but ef they'll help me to git 'round agin, I reckon I can bar hit.”
Early that morning, with but the simplest means, David had arranged bandages and weights of wood to hold her in position.
She was so slight he hoped the broken hip might right itself with patience and care, more especially as he learned that her age was not so advanced as her appearance had led him to suppose.
Now all suspicion of him seemed to have vanished from the household.
Hoyle, happy when the fascinating doctor noticed him, leaned against his chair, drinking in his words eagerly. But when Thryng drew him to his knee and discovered the cruel mark across his face and asked how it had happened, a curious change crept over them all. Every face became as expressionless as a mask; only the boy's eyes sought his brother's, then turned with a frightened look toward Ca.s.sandra as if seeking help.
Thryng persisted in his examination, and lifted the boy's face toward the light. If the big brother had done this deed, he should be made to feel shame for it. The welt barely escaped the eye, which was swollen and discolored; and altogether the face presented a pitiable appearance.
As David talked, the hard look which had been exorcised for a time by the gentle influence of that home, and more than all by the sight of Ca.s.sandra performing the gracious services of the household, settled again upon the youth's face. His lips were drawn, and his eyes ceased following Ca.s.sandra, and became fixed and narrowed on one spot.
”You have come near losing that splendid eye of yours, do you know that, little chap?” Hoyle grinned. ”It's a shame, you know. I have something up at the cabin would help to heal this, but--” he glanced about the room--”What are those dried herbs up there?”
”Thar is witch hazel yandah in the cupboard. Ca.s.s, ye mount bile some up fer th' doctah,” said the mother. ”Tell th' doctah hu-come hit happened, son; you hain't afeared of him, be ye?” A trampling of horse's hoofs was heard outside. ”Go up garret to your own place, Frale. What ye bid'n here fer?” she added, in a hushed voice, but the youth sat doggedly still.
Ca.s.sandra went out and quickly returned. ”It's your own horse, Frale.
Poor beast! He's limping like he's been hurt. He's loose out there. You better look to him.”
”Uncle Carew rode him down an' lef' him, I reckon.” Frale rose and went out, and David continued his care of the child.
<script>