ith
rheumatism and could do no more than totter about his mill and talk,
only this one brother was left with whom to deal. Now that Frale was
back in his own hills again, all terror slipped from him, and the old
excitement in the presence of danger to be met, or avoided, stimulated
him to a feeling of exuberance and triumph. With childlike facility he
tossed aside the thought of his promise to Cassandra. It all seemed to
him as a dream--all the horror and the remorse. Time had quickly dulled
this last.

"Ef I hadn't 'a' killed Ferd, he would 'a' shot me. Anyhow, he hadn't
ought to 'a' riled me that-a-way."

He thought with shame of how he had sat cowering at the head of the
fall, and had hurled his own dog to destruction, in his fear. "I war
jes' plumb crazy," he soliloquized.

As to how he could deal with Cassandra, he did not as yet know, but he
would find a way. In his heart, he reached out to her and already
possessed her. His blood leaped madly through his veins that he was so
soon to see her and touch her. Have her he would, if he must continue to
kill his way to her through an army of opponents.

The evening was falling, and, imagining they would all be sleeping, he
meant to creep quietly up and spend the night in the loom shed. There
was no dog there now to disturb them with joyful bark of recognition. At
last he found himself above the home, where, by striking through the
undergrowth a short distance, he would come out by the great holly tree
near the head of the fall. Already he could hear the welcome sound of
rushing water.

He drew nearer through the thick laurel and azalea shrubs now in full
bloom; their pollen clung to his clothing as he brushed among them.
Cautiously he approached the spot which recalled to him the emotions he
had experienced there--now throbbing through him anew. He peered into
the gathering dusk with eager eyes as if he thought to find her still
there. Ah, he could crush her in his mad joy!

Suddenly he paused and listened. Other sounds than those of the night
and the running water fell on his ear--sounds deliciously sweet and
thrilling, filling all the air, mingling with the rushing of the fall
and accenting its flow. From whence did they come--those new sounds? He
had never heard them before. Did they drop from the sky--from the stars
twinkling brightly down on him--now faint and far as if born in
heaven--now near and clear--silvery clear and strong and
sweet--penetrating his