to the last man-第50部分

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to　be　a　small　opening　surrounded　by　dense　thickets　and　the　overhanging
walls。　　Anxiety　augmented　to　alarm。　　He　might　not　be　able　to　find　a
place　to　scale　those　rough　cliffs。　　Breathing　hard；　Jean　halted　again。
The　situation　was　growing　critical　again。　　His　physical　condition　was
worse。　　Loss　of　sleep　and　rest；　lack　of　food；　the　long　pursuit　of　Queen；
the　wound　in　his　arm；　and　the　desperate　run　for　his　lifethese　had
weakened　him　to　the　extent　that　if　he　undertook　any　strenuous　effort
he　would　fail。　　His　cunning　weighed　all　chances。

The　shade　of　wall　and　foliage　above；　and　another　jumble　of　ruined　cliff；
hindered　his　survey　of　the　ground　ahead；　and　he　almost　stumbled　upon　a
cabin；　hidden　on　three　sides；　with　a　small；　bare　clearing　in　front。
It　was　an　old；　ramshackle　structure　like　others　he　had　run　across　in
the　canons。　　Cautiously　he　approached　and　peeped　around　the　corner。
At　first　swift　glance　it　had　all　the　appearance　of　long　disuse。　　But
Jean　had　no　time　for　another　look。　　A　clip…clop　of　trotting　horses　on
hard　ground　brought　the　same　pell…mell　rush　of　sensations　that　had
driven　him　to　wild　flight　scarcely　an　hour　past。　　His　body　jerked　with
its　instinctive　impulse；　then　quivered　with　his　restraint。　　To　turn
back　would　be　risky；　to　run　ahead　would　be　fatal；　to　hide　was　his　one
hope。　　No　covert　behind！　　And　the　clip…clop　of　hoofs　sounded　closer。　
One　moment　longer　Jean　held　mastery　over　his　instincts　of
self…preservation。　　To　keep　from　running　was　almost　impossible。
It　was　the　sheer　primitive　animal　sense　to　escape。　　He　drove　it　back
and　glided　along　the　front　of　the　cabin。

Here　he　saw　that　the　cabin　adjoined　another。　　Reaching　the　door；　he
was　about　to　peep　in　when　the　thud　of　hoofs　and　voices　close　at　hand
transfixed　him　with　a　grim　certainty　that　he　had　not　an　instant　to　lose。
Through　the　thin；　black…streaked　line　of　trees　he　saw　moving　red　objects。
Horses！　　He　must　run。　　Passing　the　door；　his　keen　nose　caught　a　musty；
woody　odor　and　the　tail　of　his　eye　saw　bare　dirt　floor。　　This　cabin
was　unused。　　He　halted…gave　a　quick　look　back。　　And　the　first　thing
his　eye　fell　upon　was　a　ladder；　right　inside　the　door；　against　the　wall。
He　looked　up。　　It　led　to　a　loft　that；　dark　and　gloomy；　stretched　halfway
across　the　cabin。　　An　irresistible　impulse　drove　Jean。　　Slipping　inside；
he　climbed　up　the　ladder　to　the　loft。　　It　was　like　night　up　there。　　But
he　crawled　on　the　rough…hewn　rafters　and；　turning　with　his　head　toward
the　opening；　he　stretched　out　and　lay　still。

What　seemed　an　interminable　moment　ended　with　a　trample　of　hoofs　outside
the　cabin。　　It　ceased。　　Jean's　vibrating　ears　caught　the　jingle　of　spurs
and　a　thud　of　boots　striking　the　ground。

〃Wal；　sweetheart；　heah　we　are　home　again；〃　drawled　a　slow；　cool；
mocking　Texas　voice。

〃Home！　　I　wonder；　Colterdid　y'u　ever　have　a　homea　mothera　sister
much　less　a　sweetheart？〃　was　the　reply；　bitter　and　caustic。

Jean's　palpitating；　hot body　suddenly　stretched　still　and　cold　with
intensity　of　shock。　　His　very　bones　seemed　to　quiver　and　stiffen　into　ice。
During　the　instant　of　realization　his　heart　stopped。　　And　a　slow；
contracting　pressure　enveloped　his　breast　and　moved　up　to　constrict
his　throat。　　　That　woman's　voice　belonged　to　Ellen　Jorth。　　The　sound
of　it　had　lingered　in　his　dreams。　　He　had　stumbled　upon　the　rendezvous
of　the　Jorth　faction。　　Hard　indeed　had　been　the　fates　meted　out　to　those
of　the　Isbels　and　Jorths　who　had　passed　to　their　deaths。　　But；　no　ordeal；
not　even　Queen's；　could　compare　with　this　desperate　one　Jean　must　endure。
He　had　loved　Ellen　Jorth；　strangely；　wonderfully；　and　he　had　scorned
repute　to　believe　her　good。　　He　had　spared　her　father　and　her　uncle。
He　had　weakened　or　lost　the　cause　of　the　Isbels。　　He　loved　her　now；
desperately；　deathlessly；　knowing　from　her　own　lips　that　she　was
worthlessloved　her　the　more　because　he　had　felt　her　terrible　shame。
And　to　himthe　last　of　the　Isbelshad　come　the　cruelest　of　dooms
to　be　caught　like　a　crippled　rat　in　a　trap；　to　be　compelled　to　lie
helpless；　wounded；　without　a　gun；　to　listen；　and　perhaps　to　see　Ellen
Jorth　enact　the　very　truth　of　her　mocking　insinuation。　　His　will；
his　promise；　his　creed；　his　blood　must　hold　him　to　the　stem　decree
that　he　should　be　the　last　man　of　the　Jorth…Isbel　war。　　But　could　he
lie　there　to　hearto　seewhen　he　had　a　knife　and　an　arm？



CHAPTER　XIV

Then　followed　the　leathery　flop　of　saddles　to　the　soft　turf　and　the
stamp；　of　loosened　horses。

Jean　heard　a　noise　at　the　cabin　door；　a　rustle；　and　then　a　knock　of
something　hard　against　wood。　　Silently　he　moved　his　head　to　look　down
through　a　crack　between　the　rafters。　　He　saw　the　glint　of　a　rifle
leaning　against　the　sill。　　Then　the　doorstep　was　darkened。　　Ellen　Jorth
sat　down　with　a　long；　tired　sigh。　　She　took　off　her　sombrero　and　the
light　shone　on　the　rippling；　dark…brown　hair；　hanging　in　a　tangled　braid。
The　curved　nape　of　her　neck　showed　a　warm　tint　of　golden　tan。　　She　wore
a　gray　blouse；　soiled　and　torn；　that　clung　to　her　lissome　shoulders。

〃Colter；　what　are　y'u　goin'　to　do？〃　she　asked；　suddenly。　　Her　voice
carried　something　Jean　did　not　remember。　　It　thrilled　into　the　icy
fixity　of　his　senses。

〃We'll　stay　heah；〃　was　the　response；　and　it　was　followed　by　a　clinking
step　of　spurred　boot。

〃Shore　I　won't　stay　heah；〃　declared　Ellen。　　〃It　makes　me　sick　when　I
think　of　how　Uncle　Tad　died　in　there　alonehelplesssufferin'。
The　place　seems　haunted。〃

〃Wal；　I'll　agree　that　it's　tough　on　y'u。　　But　what　the　hell　CAN　we　do？〃

A　long　silence　ensued　which　Ellen　did　not　break。

〃Somethin'　has　come　off　round　heah　since　early　mawnin'；〃　declared　Colter。
〃Somers　an'　Springer　haven't　got　back。　　An'　Antonio's　gone。　。　。　。
Now；　honest；　Ellen；　didn't　y'u　heah　rifle　shots　off　somewhere？〃

〃I　reckon　I　did；〃　she　responded；　gloomily。

〃An'　which　way？〃

〃Sounded　to　me　up　on　the　bluff；　back　pretty　far。〃

〃Wal；　shore　that's　my　idee。　　An'　it　makes　me　think　hard。　　Y'u　know
Somers　come　across　the　last　camp　of　the　Isbels。　　An'　he　dug　into　a
grave　to　find　the　bodies　of　Jim　Gordon　an'　another　man　he　didn't　know。
Queen　kept　good　his　brag。　　He　braced　that　Isbel　gang　an'　killed　those　
fellars。　　But　either　him　or　Jean　Isbel　went　off　leavin'　bloody　tracks。
If　it　was　Queen's　y'u　can　bet　Isbel　was　after　him。　　An'　if　it　was
Isbel's　tracks；　why　shore　Queen　would　stick　to　them。　　Somers　an'
Springer　couldn't　follow　the　trail。　　They're　shore　not　much　good　at
trackin'。　　But　for　days　they've　been　ridin'　the　woods；　hopin'　to　run
across　Queen。　。　。　。　Wal　now；　mebbe　they　run　across　Isbel　instead。　　An'
if　they　did　an'　got　away　from　him　they'll　be　heah　sooner　or　later。　　If
Isbel　was　too　many　for　them　he'd　hunt　for　my　trail。　　I'm　gamblin'　that
either　Queen　or　Jean　Isbel　is　daid。　　I'm　hopin'　it's　Isbel。　　Because　if
he　ain't　daid　he's　the　last　of　the　Isbels；　an'　mebbe　I'm　the　last　of
Jorth's　gang。　。　。　。　Shore　I'm　not　hankerin'　to　meet　the　half…breed。
That's　why　I　say　we'll　stay　heah。　　This　is　as　good　a　hidin'　place　as
there　is　in　the　country。　　We've　grub。　　There's　water　an'　grass。〃

〃Mestay　heah　with　y'ualone！〃

The　tone　seemed　a　contradiction　to　the　apparently　accepted　sense　of
her　words。　　Jean　held　his　breath。　　But　he　could　not　still　the　slowly
mounting　and　accelerating　faculties　within　that　were　involuntarily
rising　to　meet　some　strange；　nameless　import。　　He　felt　it。　　He　imagined
it　would　be　the　catastrophe　of　Ellen　Jorth's　calm　acceptance　of　Colter's
proposition。　　But　down　in　Jean's　miserable　heart　lived　something　that
would　not　die。　　No　mere　words　could　kill　it。　　How　poignant　that　moment
of　her　silence！　　How　terribly　he　realized　that　if　his　intelligence　and
his　emotion　had　believed　her　betraying　words；　his　soul　had　not！

But　Ellen　Jorth　did　not　speak。　　Her　brown　head　hung　thoughtfully。
Her　supple　shoulders　sagged　a　little。

〃Ellen；　what's　happened　to　y'u？〃　went　on　Colter。

〃All　the　misery　possible　to　a　woman；〃　she　replied；　dejectedly。

〃Shore　I　don't　mean　that　way；〃　he　continued；　persuasively。　　〃I　ain't
gainsayin'　the　hard　facts　of　your　life。　　It's　been　bad。　　Your　dad　was
no　good。　。　。　。　But　I　mean　I　can't　figger　the　change　in　y'u。〃

〃No；　I　reckon　y'u　cain't；〃　she　said。　　〃Whoever　was　responsible　for
your　make…up　left　out　a　mindnot　to　say　feeling。〃

Colter　drawled　a　low　laugh。

〃Wal；　have　that　your　own　way。　　But　how　much　longer　are　yu　goin'　to
be　like　this　heah？〃

〃Like　what？〃　she　rejoined；　sharply。

〃Wal；　this　stand…offishness　of　yours？〃

〃Colter；　I　told　y'u　to　let　me　alone；〃　she　said；　sullenly。

〃Shore。　　An'　y'u　did　that　before。　　But　this　time　y'u're　different。
。　。　。　An'　wal；　I'm　gettin'　tired　of　it。〃

Here　the　cool；　slow　voice　of　the　Texan　sounded　an　inflexibility　before
absent；　a　timber　that　hinted　of　illimitable　power。

Ellen　Jorth　shrugged　her　lithe　shoulders　and；　slowly　rising；　she　picked
up　the　little　rifle　and　turned　to　step　into　the　cabin。

〃Colter；〃　she　said；　〃fetch　my　pack　an'　my　blankets　in　heah。〃

〃　Shore；〃　he　returned；　with　good　nature。

Jean　saw　Ellen　Jorth　lay　the　rifle　lengthwise　in　a　chink　between　two
logs　and　then　slowly　turn；　back　to　the　wall。　　Jean　knew　her　then；
yet　did　not　know　her。　　The　brown　flash　of　her　face　seemed　that　of　an
older；　graver　woman。　　His　strained　gaze；　like　his　waiting　mind；　had
expected　something；　he　knew　not　whata　hardened　face；　a　ghost　of　beauty；
a　recklessness；　a　distorted；　bitter；　lost　expression　in　keeping　with　her
fortunes。　　But　he　had　reckoned　falsely。　　She　did　not　look　like　that。
There　was　incalculable　change；　but　the　beauty　remained；　somehow
different。　　Her　red　lips　were　parted。　　Her　brooding　eyes；　looking　out
straight　from　under　the　level；　dark　brows；　seemed　sloe　black　and
wonderful　with　their　steady；　passionate　light。

Jean；　in　his　eager；　hungry　devouring　of　the　beloved　face；　did　not　on
the　first　instant　grasp　the　significance　of　its　expression。　　He　was
seeing　the　features　that　had　haunted　him。　　But　quickly　he　interpreted
her　expression　as　the　somber；　hunted　look　of　a　woman　who　would　bear　no　
more。　　Under　the　torn　blouse　her　full　breast　heaved。　　She　held　her　hands
clenched　at　her　sides。　　She　was'　listening；　waiting　for　that　jangling；
slow　step。　　It　came；　and　with　the　sound　s