FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143  
144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   >>   >|  
xultation, of hope that reached beyond the laws of men--and then he turned toward the little cabin, where through the thickness of sodden night the tiny window was glowing yellow with candle-light. CHAPTER XIX To the cabin Kent groped his way, and knocked, and it was Marette who opened the door for him and stepped back for him to enter. Like a great wet dog he came in, doubling until his hands almost touched the floor. He sensed the incongruity of it, the misplacement of his overgrown body in this playhouse thing, and he grinned through the trickles of wet that ran down his face, and tried to see. Marette had taken off her turban and rain-coat, and she, too, stooped low in the four-feet space of the cabin--but not so ridiculously low as Kent. He dropped on his knees again. And then he saw that in the tiny stove a fire was burning. The crackle of it rose above the beat of the rain on the roof, and the air was already mellowing with the warmth of it. He looked at Marette. Her wet hair was still clinging to her face, her feet and arms and part of her body were wet; but her eyes were shining, and she was smiling at him. She seemed to him, in this moment, like a child that was glad it had found refuge. He had thought that the terror of the night would show in her face, but it was gone. She was not thinking of the thunder and the lightning, the black trail, or of Kedsty lying dead in his bungalow. She was thinking of him. He laughed outright. It was a joyous, thrilling thing, this black night with the storm over their heads and the roll of the great river under them--they two--alone--in this cockleshell cabin that was not high enough to stand in and scarcely big enough in any direction to turn round in. The snug cheer of it, the warmth of the fire beginning to reach their chilled bodies, and the inspiring crackle of the birch in the little stove filled Kent, for a space, with other thoughts than those of the world they were leaving. And Marette, whose eyes and lips were smiling at him softly in the candle-glow, seemed also to have forgotten. It was the little window that brought them back to the tragedy of their flight. Kent visioned it as it must look from the shore--a telltale blotch of light traveling through the darkness. There were occasional cabins for several miles below the Landing, and eyes turned riverward in the storm might see it. He made his way to the window and fastened his slicker over it. "We
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143  
144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

Marette

 
window
 

crackle

 

smiling

 

thinking

 

warmth

 
turned
 
candle
 

occasional

 

darkness


cockleshell

 

cabins

 

Landing

 

Kedsty

 

lightning

 
slicker
 

bungalow

 
laughed
 

joyous

 

thrilling


traveling

 

riverward

 

outright

 
fastened
 

scarcely

 

filled

 

thoughts

 

forgotten

 
tragedy
 

brought


inspiring

 

thunder

 
leaving
 

bodies

 

chilled

 

direction

 
telltale
 
blotch
 

softly

 

beginning


flight
 

visioned

 

doubling

 

stepped

 

touched

 

grinned

 

trickles

 
playhouse
 

overgrown

 
sensed