the eyes. He could not speak--for a
moment he could not think; then a lurid fire of conviction burned into
his very soul.

"So--that's it!" he muttered, coming so close to Marg that she shrank
back afraid. "So that's it! Yo'-all have damned and all but killed the
po' lil' girl--then flung her to--to the devil! You've taken the
leavings--you! 'cause yo' couldn't get anything else. Yo' and Jed" (here
Lawson laughed a fearless, terrifying laugh), "yo' and Jed is honourably
married, you two, and she--lil' Nella-Rose--left to--" Emotion choked
Lawson; then he plunged on: "He--he wronged her--the brute, and you took
him to--to save him and yourself you--! And she?--why, she's the only
holy thing in the hills; you couldn't damn her--you two!"

"For the love o' Gawd!" begged Marg, "keep yo' tongue still and off us!
We ain't done her any wrong; every one, even Jed, thinks she is with
you. Miss Lois Ann hid her--I only knew a week ago. I ain't told a
soul!"

A look of contempt grew upon Burke's face and hardened there. He was
thinking quick and desperately. In a vague way he realized that he had
the reins in his hands; his only concern was to know whither he should
drive. But, above and beyond all--deep true, and spiritual--were his
love and pity for Nella-Rose.

They had all betrayed and deserted her. Not for an instant did Lawson
doubt that. Their cowardice and duplicity neither surprised nor daunted
him; but his pride--his sense of superiority--bade him pause and reflect
before he plunged ahead. Finally he said:

"So you-all depend upon her safety for your safety! Take it--and be
damned! She's been with me--yo' followin' me? She's been with me,
rightful married and happy--happy! From now on I'll manage lil'
Nella-Rose's doings, and the first whisper from man or woman agin her
will be agin me--and God knows I won't be blamed for what I do then!
Tell that skunk of yours," Lawson glared at the terrified Marg, "I'm
strong enough to outbid him with the devil, but from now on him and
you--mind this well, Marg Greyson--him and you are to be our loving
brother and sister. See?"

With a wild laugh Burke took to the woods.

CHAPTER XIV

Two years and a half following William Truedale's death found things
much as the old gentleman would have liked. Often Lynda Kendall, sitting
beside the long, low, empty chair, longed to tell her old friend all
about it. Strange to say, the recluse in life had become very vital in
death