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e　in　his　blood　with　the　same　straw。　Like　a　vital　fire　it　was　left　in　him　at　last；　a　red　and　white　of　flame；　the　two　flames　forever　hostile；　and　seeking　each　to　burn　the　other　out。　And　while　it　stayed　in　him　thus　as　a　fire；　it　had　also　filled　all　tissues　of　his　being　as　water　fills　a　spongenot　dead　water　a　dead　spongebut　as　a　living　sap　runs　through　the　living　sponges　of　a　young　oak　on　the　edge　of　its　summer。　So　that　never　should　he　be　able　to　forget　it；　never　henceforth　be　the　same　in　knowledge　or　heart　or　conscience；　and　nevermore　was　the　lone　spiritual　battle　of　his　life；　if　haply　waged　at　all；　to　be　fought　out　by　him　with　the　earlier；　simpler　weapons　of　his　innocence　and　his　youth；　but　with　all　the　might　of　a　tempted　man's　high　faith　in　the　beauty　and　the　right　and　the　divine　supremacy　of　goodness。

One　morning　his　wounds　had　begun　to　require　attention。　　No　one　had　yet　come　to　him：　it　was　hardly　the　customary　hour：　and　moreover；　by　rising　in　bed　he　could　see　that　something　unusual　had　drawn　the　people　into　the　streets。　The　news　of　a　massacre　on　the　western　frontier；　perhaps；　the　arrival　of　the　post…rider　with　angry　despatches　from　the　East；　or　the　torch　of　revolution　thrown　far　northward　from　New　Orleans。　His　face　had　flushed　with　feverish　waiting　and　he　lay　with　his　eyes　turned　restlessly　toward　the　door。

It　was　Mrs。　Falconer　who　stepped　forward　to　it　with　hesitation。　　But　as　soon　as　she　caught　sight　of　him；　she　hurried　to　the　bed。　〃What　is　the　trouble？　Have　you　been　worse？〃

〃Oh；　nothing！　It　is　nothing。〃　〃Why　do　you　say　thatto　me？〃

〃My　shoulder。　But　it　is　hardly　time　for　them　to　come　yet。〃　She　hesitated　and　her　face　showed　how　serious　her　struggle　was。　〃Let　me；〃　she　said　firmly。

He　looked　up　quickly；　confusedly；　at　her　with　a　refusal　on　his　lips；　but　she　had　already　turned　away　to　get　the　needful　things　in　readiness；　and　he　suffered　her；　if　for　no　other　reason　than　to　avoid　letting　her　see　the　painful　rush　of　blood　to　his　face。　　As　she　moved　about　the　room；　she　spoke　only　to　ask　unavoidable　questions；　he；　only　to　answer　them；　and　neither　looked　at　the　other。

Then　he　sat　up　in　the　bed　and　bared　his　neck　and　shoulder；　one　arm　and　half　his　chest；　and　with　his　face　crimson；　turned　his　eyes　away。　She　had　been　among　the　women　in　the　fort　during　that　summer　thirteen　years　before；　when　the　battle　of　the　Blue　Licks　had　been　fought；　and　speaking　in　the　quietest；　most　natural　of　voices；　she　now　began　to　describe　how　the　wounded　had　straggled　in　from　the　battle…field；　one　rifleman　reeling　on　his　horse　and　held　in　his　seat　by　the　arm　of　a　comrade；　his　bleeding；　bandaged　head　on　that　comrade's　shoulder；　another　borne　on　a　litter　swung　between　two　horses；　others　footmenholding　out　just　long　enough　to　come　into　sight　of　the　fort；　there　to　sink　down；　one；　a　mere　youth；　fallen　a　mile　back　in　the　hot　dusty　buffalo　trace　with　an　unspoken　message　to　some　one　in　his　brave；　beautiful；　darkening　eyes。　But　before　this；　she　told　him　how　the　women　had　watched　all　that　night　and　the　day　previous　inside　the　poor　little　earth…mound　of　a　defence　against　artillery；　built　by　order　of　Jefferson　and　costing　37。5O；　the　women　taking　as　always　the　places　of　the　men　who　were　gone　away　to　the　war；　becoming　as　always　the　defenders　of　the　land；　of　the　children；　of　those　left　behind　sick　or　too　old　to　fight。　How　from　the　black　edge　of　dawn　they　had　strained　their　eyes　in　the　direction　of　the　battle　until　at　last　a　woman's　cry　of　agony　had　rent　the　air　as　the　first　of　the　wounded　had　ridden　slowly　into　sight。　How　they　had　rushed　forth　through　the　wooden　gates　and　heard　the　tidings　of　it　all　and　then　had　followed　the　scenes　and　the　things　that　could　never　be　told　for　pity　and　grief　and　love　and　sadness。

After　a　little　pause　she　began　to　speak　of　Major　Falconer　as　the　school…master　had　never　known　her　to　speak；　tremulously　of　his　part　in　that　battle；　a　Revolutionary　officer　serving　as　a　common　backwoods　soldier；　eloquently　of　his　perfect　courage　then　and　always；　of　his　perfect　manliness；　and　she　ended　by　saying　that　the　worst　thing　that　could　ever　befall　a　woman　was　to　marry　an　unmanly　man。

〃If　any　one　single　thing　in　life　could　ever　have　killed　me；〃　she　said；　〃it　would　have　been　that。〃

With　her　last　words　she　finished　the　dressing　of　his　wounds。　　Spots　of　the　deepest　rose　were　on　her　cheeks；　her　eyes　were　lighted　with　proud　fire。　Confusedly　he　thanked　her　and；　lying　back　on　his　pillow；　closed　his　eyes　and　turned　his　face　away。

When　she　had　quickly　gone　he　sat　up　in　the　bed　again。　He　drew　the　book　guiltily　from　under　his　pillow；　looked　long　and　sorrowfully　at　it；　and　then　with　a　low　cry　of　shamethe　first　that　had　ever　burst　from　his　lipshe　hurled　it　across　the　room　and　threw　himself　violently　down　again；　with　his　forehead　against　the　logs；　his　eyes　hidden；　his　face　burning。


XIV

THE　first　day　that　John　felt　strong　enough　to　walk　as　far　as　that　end　of　the　town；　he　was　pulling　himself　unsteadily　past　the　shop　when　he　saw　Peter　and　turned　in　to　rest　and　chat。The　young　blacksmith　refused　to　speak　to　him。

〃Peter！〃　said　John　with　a　sad；　shaky　voice；　holding　out　his　hand；　〃have　I　changed　so　much？　Don't　you　know　me？〃

〃Yes；　I　know　you；〃　said　Peter。　〃I　wish　I　didn't。〃

〃I　don't　think　I　recognize　you　any　more；〃　replied　John；　after　a　moment　of　silence。　〃What's　the　matter？〃

〃Oh；　you　get　along；〃　said　Peter。　〃Clear　out！〃

John　went　inside　and　drank　a　gourd　of　water　out　of　Peter's　cool　bucket；　came　back　with　a　stool　and　sat　down　squarely　before　him。

〃Now　look　here；〃　he　said　with　the　candour　which　was　always　the　first　law　of　nature　with　him；　〃what　have　I　done　to　you？〃

Peter　would　neither　look　nor　speak；　but　being　powerless　before　kindness；　he　was　beginning　to　break　down。

〃Out　with　it；〃　said　John。　〃What　have　I　done？〃〃You　know　what　you've　said。〃

〃What　have　I　said　about　you？〃　asked　John；　now　perceiving　that　some　mischief　had　been　at　work　here。　〃Who　told　you　I　had　said　anything　about　you？〃

〃It's　no　use　for　you　to　deny　it。〃

〃Who　told　you？〃

〃O'Bannon！〃

〃O'Bannon！〃　exclaimed　John　with　a　frown。　〃I've　never　talked　to　O'Bannon　about　youabout　anything。〃

〃You　haven't　abused　me？〃　said　Peter；　wheeling　on　the　schoolmaster；　eyes　and　face　and　voice　full　of　the　suffering　of　his　wounded　self…love　and　of　his　wounded　affection。

〃I　hope　I've　abused　nobody！〃　said　John　proudly。

〃Come　in　here！〃　cried　Peter；　springing　up　and　hurrying　into　his　shop。

Near　the　door　stood　a　walnut　tree　with　wide…spreading　branches　wearing　the　fresh　plumes　of　late　May；　plumes　that　hung　down　over　the　door　and　across　the　windows；　suffusing　the　interior　with　a　soft　twilight　of　green　and　brown　shadows。　A　shaft　of　sunbeams　penetrating　a　crevice　fell　on　the　white　neck　of　a　yellow　collie　that　lay　on　the　ground　with　his　head　on　his　paws；　his　eyes　fixed　reproachfully　on　the　heels　of　the　horse　outside；　his　ears　turned　back　toward　his　master。　Beside　him　a　box　had　been　kicked　over：　tools　and　shoes　scattered。　A　faint　line　of　blue　smoke　sagged　from　the　dying　coals　of　the　forge　toward　the　door；　creeping　across　the　anvil　bright　as　if　tipped　with　silver。　And　in　one　of　the　darkest　corners　of　the　shop；　near　a　bucket　of　water　in　which　floated　a　huge　brown　gourd；　Peter　and　John　sat　on　a　bench　while　the　story　of　O'Bannon's　mischief…making　was　begun　and　finished。　It　was　told　by　Peter　with　much　cordial　rubbing　of　his　elbows　in　the　palms　of　his　hands　and　much　light…hearted　smoothing　of　his　apron　over　his　knees。　At　times　a　cloud；　passing　beneath　the　sun；　threw　the　shop　into　heavier　shadow；　and　then　the　school…master's　dark　figure　faded　into　the　tone　of　the　sooty　wall　behind　him　and　only　his　face；　with　the　contrast　of　its　white　linen　collar　below　and　the　bare　discernible　lights　of　his　auburn　hair　abovehis　face；　proud；　resolute；　astounded；　pallid；　sufferingstarted　out　of　the　gloom　like　a　portrait　from　an　old　canvas。

〃And　this　is　why　you　never　came　to　see　me。〃　He　had　sprung　up　like　a　man　made　well；　and　was　holding　Peter's　hand　and　looking　reproachfully　into　his　eyes。

〃I'd　have　seen　you　dead　first；〃　cried　Peter　gaily；　giving　him　a　mighty　slap　on　the　shoulder。　〃But　wait！　O'Bannon's　not　the　only　man　who　can　play　a　joke！〃

John　hurriedly　left　the　shop　with　a　gesture　which　Peter　did　not　understand。

The　web　of　deceptive　circumstances　that　had　been　spun　about　him　had　been　brushed　away　at　last：　he　saw　the　whole　truth　nowsaw　his　own　blindness；　blundering；　folly；　injustice。

He　was　on　his　way　to　Amy　already。

When　he　had　started　out；　he　had　thought　he　should　walk　around　a　little　and　then　lie　down　again。　Now　with　his　powerful　stride　come　back　to　him；　he　had　soon　passed　the　last　house　of　the　town　and　was　nearing　the　edge　of　the　wilderness。　He　took　the　same　straight　short　course　of　the　afternoon　on　which　he　had　asked　Mrs。　Falconer's　consent　to　his　suit。　As　he　hurried　on；　it　seemed　to　him　a　long　time　since　then！　What　experiences　he　had　undergone！　What　had　he　not　suffered！　How　he　was　changed！

〃Yes；〃　he　said　over　and　over　to　himself；　putting　away　all　other　thoughts　in　a　resolve　to　think　of　this　nearest　duty　only。　〃If　I've　been　unkind　to　her；　if　I've　been　wrong；　have　I　not　suffered？〃

He　had　not　gone　far　before　his　strength　began　to　fail。　He　was　forced　to　sit　down　and　rest。　It　was　near　sundown　when　he　reached　the　clearing。

〃At　last！〃　he　said　gratefully；　with　his　old　triumphant　habit　of　carrying　out　whatever　he　undertook。　He　had　put　out　all　his　strength　to　get　there。

He　passed　the　nearest　fieldthe　peach　treesthe　gardenand　took　the　path　toward　the　house。

〃Where　shall　I　find　her？〃　he　thought。　〃Where　can　I　see　her　alone？〃

〃Between　him　and　the　house　stood　a　building　of　logs　and　plaster。　　It　was　a　single　room　used　for　the　spinning　and　the　weaving　of　which　she　had　charge。　Many　a　time　he　had　lain　on　the　great　oaken　chest　into　which　the　homespun　cloth　was　stored　while　she　sat　by　her　spinning…wheel；　many　a　talk　they　had　had　there　together；　many　a　parting；　and　many　a　Saturday　twilight　he　had　put　his　arms　around　her　there　and　turned　away　for　his　lonely　walk　to　town；　planning　their　future。　　〃If　she　should　only　be　in　the　weaving…room！〃

He　stepped　softly　to　the　door　and　looked　in。　She　was　there　standing　near　the　middle　of　the　room　with　her　face　turned　from　him。　The　work　of　the　day　was　don