arthy Lewallen; y'u puts downright hell into
me." The words came between gritted teeth. "I want to take ye up 'n'
throw ye off this cliff clean into the river, 'n' I reckon the next
minute I'd jump off atter ye. Y'u've 'witched me, gal! I forgits who ye
air 'n' who I be, 'n' sometimes I want to come over hyeh 'n' kerry
ye out'n these mountins, n' nuver come back. You know whut I've been
watchin' the river fer sence the fust time I seed ye. You know whut I've
been a-stayin' at the mill fer, 'n' Steve mad 'n' mam a-jowerin'--'n'
a-lookin' over hyeh fer ye night 'n' day! Y'u know whut I've jes swum
over hyeh fer! Whut's the matter with ye?"

Martha was not looking for a confession like this. It took away
her shame at once, and the passion of it thrilled her, and left her
trembling. While he spoke her lashes drooped quickly, her face softened,
and the color came back to it. She began intertwining her fingers, and
would not look up at him.

"Ef y'u hates me like the rest uv ye, why don't ye say it right out? 'N'
ef ye do hate me, whut hev you been lookin' 'cross the river fer, 'n'
a-shakin' yer bonnet at me, 'n' paddlin' to Gabe's fer yer grist, when
the mill on Dead Crick's been a-runnin', 'n' I know it? You've been
banterin' me, hev ye?"--the blood rose to his eyes again. "Ye mustn't
fool with me, gal, by ----, ye mustn't. Whut hev you been goin' over thar
fer?" He even took a threatening step toward her, and, with a helpless
gesture, stopped. The girl was a little frightened. Indeed, she smiled,
seeing her power over him; she seemed even about to laugh outright;
but the smile turned to a quick look of alarm, and she bent her
head suddenly to listen to something below. At last she did speak.
"Somebody's comm'!" she said. "You'd better git out o' the way," she
went on, hurriedly. "Somebody's comm', I tell ye! Don't ye hear?"

It was no ruse to get rid of him. The girl's eyes were dilating.
Something was coming far below. Rome could catch the faint beats of a
horse's hoofs. He was unarmed, and he knew it was death for him to be
seen on that forbidden mountain; but he was beyond caution, and ready to
welcome any vent to his passion, and he merely shook his head.

"Ef it's Satan hisself, I hain't goin' to run." The hoof-beats came
nearer. The rider must soon see them from the coil below.

"Rome, hit's Jas! He's got his rifle, and he'll kill ye, 'n' me too!"
The girl was white with distress. She had called him by his name,