h the tips of her fingers. And when she went back, she bent
to kiss one lovely rose and, as she lifted her head with a start
of fear, the dew from it shining on her lips made her red mouth as
flower-like and no less beautiful. A yell had shattered the quiet of the
world--not the high fox-hunting yell of the mountains, but something new
and strange. Up the creek were strange lights. A loud laugh shattered
the succeeding stillness--a laugh she had never heard before in Lonesome
Cove. Swiftly she ran back to the porch. Surely strange things were
happening there. A strange spirit pervaded the Cove and the very air
throbbed with premonitions. What was the matter with everything--what
was the matter with her? She knew that she was lonely and that she
wanted Hale--but what else was it? She shivered--and not alone from the
chill night-air--and puzzled and wondering and stricken at heart, she
crept back to bed.

XVIII

Pausing at the Pine to let his big black horse blow a while, Hale
mounted and rode slowly down the green-and-gold gloom of the ravine. In
his pocket was a quaint little letter from June to "John Hail"; thanking
him for the beautiful garden, saying she was lonely, and wanting him to
come soon. From the low flank of the mountain he stopped, looking down
on the cabin in Lonesome Cove. It was a dreaming summer day. Trees, air,
blue sky and white cloud were all in a dream, and even the smoke lazing
from the chimney seemed drifting away like the spirit of something human
that cared little whither it might be borne. Something crimson emerged
from the door and stopped in indecision on the steps of the porch. It
moved again, stopped at the corner of the house, and then, moving on
with a purpose, stopped once more and began to flicker slowly to and
fro like a flame. June was working in her garden. Hale thought he would
halloo to her, and then he decided to surprise her, and he went on down,
hitched his horse and stole up to the garden fence. On the way he
pulled up a bunch of weeds by the roots and with them in his arms he
noiselessly climbed the fence. June neither heard nor saw him. Her
underlip was clenched tight between her teeth, the little cross swung
violently at her throat and she was so savagely wielding the light hoe
he had given her that he thought at first she must be killing a snake;
but she was only fighting to death every weed that dared to show its
head. Her feet and her head were bare, her face was