Part 5 (2/2)

”Do not speak to me,” he said roughly. ”You are a wicked woman. You have sold Natalie.” Then he turned fiercely on mammy. ”And you,” he said--”you have dressed her for the market. You are a bad n.i.g.g.e.r.”

Mrs. Leighton gasped and then began to cry softly. Mammy's eyes stared at Lewis.

”Bad n.i.g.g.ah, young Marster?” she mumbled vaguely.

Natalie grasped the table and leaned forward. ”Lew!” she cried. ”Why, _Lew_!”

Lewis struck a tear from his cheek, turned, and fled. He went to the rough lean-to that served as a stable and began to saddle his pony.

In all the heavens there was not a cloud. It was what the natives, too often scourged by drought, called an ugly night. The full moon rose visibly into the pale bowl of blue. Above her tropic glare the satellite stars shone wanly and far away.

As Lewis was about to mount, Natalie came running from the house. She held her new dress above her knees. Her white scarf streamed out like two wings behind her.

”Lew!” she called. ”Wait! What are you doing?”

Lewis waited for her. She came close to him and laid her hand upon his arm. Her brown eyes, shot with gold, were bigger than ever. They looked their question into his face.

”Nat,” he said, ”I've quarreled with your dad. There's nothing to talk about. I must go.”

”Go, Lew? Go where?”

Lewis shrugged his shoulders.

”I don't know,” he said. ”Just go.”

Natalie laid her head against him. Her two hands gripped his shoulders.

She sobbed as though her heart would break. Lewis put his arm about her.

He felt the twitching bones of her thin, warm body. His face was in her hair.

”Ah, Natalie,” he murmured, brokenly, ”don't cry! don't cry!”

They were children. They did not think to kiss.

CHAPTER X

Lewis traveled toward the ancient town of Oeiras. He had cast about in his mind for some means of livelihood and had decided to become a goatskin-buyer. He was hoping to come to an arrangement with some merchant in Oeiras.

One morning as he jogged along, his eyes on the ground, his thoughts far away, he heard the patter of many hoofs on the hard clay trail. A pack-train was coming toward him. At its head rode a guide. The guide stopped upon meeting Lewis, and immediately every mule behind him stopped, too.

”The blessing of G.o.d be upon you, friend!” he drawled. ”Whence do you come and whither do you go?”

”G.o.d's blessing be praised,” answered Lewis. ”I come from the hills. I go to Oeiras.”

”To Oeiras? We come thence. It is a long road, Oeiras.”

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