here were none near to hear her.

"Stop, Frale! I am not yours; stop, Frale," she implored.

"Yas, you are mine," he said, in his low drawl, lifting his head to gaze
in her face. "You gin me your promise. That doctah man, he done gone an'
lef' you all alone, and he ain't nevah goin' to come back to these here
mountins."

She snatched her hands from the child on her knees, and, with sudden
movement, pushed him violently; but he only held her closer, and it was
as if she struggled against muscles of iron.

"Naw, you don't! I have you now, an' I won't nevah leave you go again."
He had not been drinking, yet he was like one drunken, so long had he
brooded and waited.

Rapidly she tried to think how she might gain control over him, when,
wakened by the struggle, the babe wailed out and he started to his feet,
his hands clutching into his hair as if he were struck with sudden fear.
He had not noticed or given heed to what lay upon her knees, and the cry
penetrated his heart like a knife.

A child! His child--that doctor's child? He hated the thought of it, and
the old impulse to strike down anything or any creature that stood in
his way seized him--the impulse that, unchecked, had made him a
murderer. He could kill, kill! Cassandra gathered the little body to her
heart and, standing still before him, looked into his eyes.
Instinctively she knew that only calmness and faith in his right action
would give her the mastery now, and with a prayer in her heart she spoke
quietly.

"How came you here, Frale? You wrote mother you'd gone to Texas." His
figure relaxed, and his arms dropped, but still he bent forward and
gazed eagerly into her eyes.

"I come back when I heered he war gone. I come back right soon. Cate
Irwin's wife writ me 'at he war gone; an' now she done tol' me he ain't
nevah goin' to come back to these here mountins. Ev'ybody on the
mountins knows that. He jes' have fooled you-all that-a-way, makin' out
to marry you whilst he war in bed, like he couldn' stand on his feet,
an' then gittin' up an' goin' off this-a-way, an' bidin' nigh on to a
year. We don't 'low our women to be done that-a-way, like they war pore
white trash. I come back fer you like I promised, an' you done gin me
your promise, too. I reckon you won't go back on that now." He stepped
nearer, and she clasped the babe closer, but did not flinch.

"Yes, Frale, you promised, and I--I--promised--to save you from
yourself--to be a good man; but yo