The Mountain Girl. Erskine Payne
him to me quickly, then. I have cast my lot with you mountain people for some time to come, and your cause shall be mine."
She paused at the door with grateful words on her lips unuttered.
"Don't stop for thanks, Miss Cassandra; they are wasted between us. You have opened your doors to me, a stranger, and that is enough. Hurry, don't grieve – and see here: I may not be able to do anything, but I'll try; and if I can't get down to-night, won't you come again in the morning and tell me all about it?"
Instantly he thought better of his request, yet who was here to criticise? He laughed as he thought how firmly the world and its conventions held him. Sweet, simple-hearted child that she was, why, indeed, should she not come? Still he called after her. "If you are too busy, send Hoyle. I may be down to see your mother, anyway."
She paused an instant in her hurried walk. "I'll be right glad to come, if I can help you any way."
He stood watching her until she passed below his view, as her long easy steps took her rapidly on, although she seemed to move slowly. Then he went back to his fire, and her words repeated themselves insistently in his mind – "I'll be right glad to come, if I can help you any way."
Aunt Sally was seated in the chimney-corner smoking, when Cassandra returned. "Where is he?" she cried.
"He couldn't set a minute, he was that restless. He 'lowed he'd go up to the rock whar you found him las' evenin'."
Without a word, Cassandra turned and fled up the steep toward the head of the fall. Every moment, she knew, was precious. Frale met her halfway down and took her hand, leading her as he had been used to do when she was his "little sister," and listened to her plans docilely enough.
"I mean you to go down to Farington, to Bishop Towahs'. He will give you work." She had not mentioned Thryng.
Frale laughed.
"Don't, Frale. How can you laugh?"
"I ra'ly hain't laughin', Cass. Seems like you fo'get how can I get down the mountain; but I reckon I'll try – if you say so."
Then she explained how the doctor had sent for him to come up there quickly, and how he would help him. "You must go now, Frale, you hear? Now!"
Again he laughed, bitterly this time. "Yas – I reckon he'll be right glad to help me get away from you. I'll go myse'f in my own way."
Under the holly tree they had paused, and suddenly she feared lest the boy at her side return to his mood of the evening before. She seized his hand again and hurried him farther up the steep.
"Come, come!" she cried. "I'll go with you, Frale."
"Naw, you won't go with me neithah," he said stubbornly, drawing back.
"Frale!" she pleaded. "Hear to me."
"I'm a-listenin'."
"Frale, I'm afraid. They may be on their way now. For all we know they may be right nigh."
"I've done got used to fearin' now. Hit don't hurt none. On'y one thing hurts now."
"I've been up to see Doctor Thryng, and he's promised he'll fix you up some way so that if anybody does see you, they – they'll think you belong somewhere else, and nevah guess who you be. Frale, go."
He held her, with his arm about her waist, half carrying her with him, instead of allowing her to move her own free gait, and she tried vainly with her fingers to pull his hands away; but his muscles were like iron under her touch. He felt her helplessness and liked it. Her voice shook as she pleaded with him.
"Oh, Frale! Hear to me!" she wailed.
"I'll hear to you, ef you'll hear to me. Seems like I've lost my fear now. I hain't carin' no more. Ef I should see the sheriff this minute, an' he war a-puttin' his rope round my neck right now, I wouldn't care 'thout one thing – jes' one thing. I'd walk straight down to hell fer hit, – I reckon I hev done that, – but I'd walk till I drapped, an' work till I died for hit." He stood still a moment, and again she essayed to move his hands, but he only held her closer.
"Oh, hurry, Frale! I'm afraid. Oh, Frale, don't!"
"Be ye 'feared fer me, Cass?"
"You know that, Frale. Leave go, and hear to me."
"Be ye 'feared 'nough to give me your promise, Cass?"
"Take your hand off me, Frale."
"We'll go back. I 'low they mount es well take me first as last. I hain't no heart lef' in me. I don't care fer that thar doctah man he'pin' me, nohow," he choked.
"Leave me go, and I'll give you promise for promise, Frale. I can't make out is it sin or not; but if God can forgive and love – when you turn and seek Him – the Bible do say so, Frale, but – but seem like you don't repent your deed whilst you look at me like that way." She paused, trembling. "If you could be sorry like you ought to be, Frale, and turn your heart – I could die for that."
He still held her, but lifted one shaking hand above his head.
"Before God, I promise – "
"What, Frale? Say what you promise."
He still held his hand high. "All you ask of me, Cass. Tell me word by word, an' I'll promise fair."
"You will repent, Frale?"
"Yas."
"You will not drink?"
"I will not drink."
"You will heed when your own heart tells you the right way?"
"I will heed when my heart tells me the way: hit will be the way to you, Cass."
"Oh, don't say it that way, Frale. Now say, 'So help me God,' and don't think of me whilst you say it."
"Put your hand on mine, Cass. Lift hit up an' say with me that word." She placed her palm on his uplifted palm. "So help me, God," they said together. Then, with streaming tears, she put her arms about his neck and gently drew his face down to her own.
"I'll go back now, Frale, and you do all I've said. Go quick. I'll write Bishop Towahs, and he'll watch out for you, and find you work. Let Doctah Thryng help you. He sure is a good man. Oh, if you only could write!"
"I'll larn."
"You'll have a heap more to learn than you guess. I've been there, and I know. Don't give up, Frale, and – and stay – "
"I hain't going to give up with your promise here, Cass; kiss me."
She did so, and he slowly released her, looking back as he walked away.
"Oh, hurry, Frale! Don't look back. It's a bad omen." She turned, and without one backward glance descended the mountain.
CHAPTER VI
IN WHICH DAVID AIDS FRALE TO MAKE HIS ESCAPE
Elated by his talk with Cassandra, Frale walked eagerly forward, but as he neared Thryng's cabin he moved more slowly. Why should he let that doctor help him? He could reach Farington some way – travelling by night and hiding in the daytime. But David was watching for him and strolled down to meet him.
"Good morning. Your sister says there is no time to lose. Come in here, and we'll see if we can find a way out of this trouble."
Having learned not to expect any response to remarks not absolutely demanding one, and not wishing the silence to dominate, David talked on, as he led Frale into the cabin and carefully closed the door behind them.
Thryng's intuition was subtle and his nature intense and strong. He had been used to dealing with men, and knew that when he wished to, he usually gained his point. Feeling the antagonism in Frale's heart toward himself, he determined to overcome it. Be it pride, jealousy, or what not, it must give way.
He had learned only that morning that circumlocution or pretence of any sort would only drive the youth further into his fortress of silence, and close his nature, a sealed well of turbid feeling, against him; therefore he chose a manner pleasantly frank, taking much for granted, and giving the boy no chance to refuse his help, by assuming it to have been already accepted.
"We