fiction.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. THE GIRL AND THE BOY

II. THE HOUSE OF CEDAR

III. "PHILIP ALSTON, GENTLEMAN"

IV. THE NIGHT RIDE

V. ON THE WILDERNESS ROAD

VI. THE CAMP-MEETING

VII. A MORNING IN CEDAR HOUSE

VIII. THE LOG TEMPLE OF JUSTICE

IX. PAUL'S FIRST VISIT TO RUTH

X. FATHER ORIN AND TOBY MEET TOMMY DYE

XI. THE DANCE IN THE FOREST

XII. THE EVE OF ALL SOULS'

XIII. SEEING WITH DIFFERENT EYES

XIV. A SPIRITUAL CENTAUR

XV. THE WEB THAT SEEMED TO BE WOVEN

XVI. LOVE'S TOUCHSTONE

XVII. THE ONCOMING OF THE STORM

XVIII. THE GENTLEST ARE THE BRAVEST

XIX. UNDER THE HUNTER'S MOON

XX. BALANCING LIFE AND DEATH

XXI. THE EAGLE IN THE DOVE'S NEST

XXII. "A COMET'S GLARE FORETOLD THIS SAD EVENT"

XXIII. LOVE CLAIMS HIS OWN

XXIV. OLD LOVE'S STRIVING WITH YOUNG LOVE

XXV. THE PASSING OF PHILIP ALSTON

ILLUSTRATIONS

"The Angelus was pealing from the bell of the little log chapel"

"A dark, confused ... writhing mass of humanity"

"'I wanted to shake the hand of a man like you'"

Father Orin and Toby

"For she also was riding a great race"

"She was making an aeolian harp"

ROUND ANVIL ROCK

I

THE GIRL AND THE BOY

The Beautiful River grows very wide in making its great bend around
western Kentucky. On the other side, its shores are low for many miles,
but well guarded by giant cottonwoods. These spectral trees stand close
to its brink and stretch their phantom arms far over its broad waters,
as if perpetually warding off the vast floods that rush down from the
North.

But the floods are to be feared only in the winter or spring, never in
the summer or autumn. And nearly a hundred years ago, when the river's
shores were bound throughout their great length by primeval forests,
there was less reason to fear at any season. So that on a day of October
in the year eighteen hundred and eleven, the mighty stream lay safely
within its deep bounds flowing quietly on its way to join the Father of
Waters.

So gently it went that there was scarcely a ripple to break its silvery
surface. It seemed indeed hardly to move, reflecting the shadowy
cottonwoods like a long, clear, curving mirror which was dimmed only by
the breath of the approaching dusk. Out in the current beyond the
shadows of the trees, there still lingered a faint glimmer of the
afterglow's pale gold. But the red glory of the west was dy