iram did not seem to see her. "Did you go off with Levi?" said he at
last, speaking abruptly. The girl looked up furtively under her brows.
"You needn't be afeared to tell," he added.

"Yes," said she at last, "I did go off with him, Hi."

"Where've you been?"

At the question, she suddenly laid down her knife and fork. "Don't
you ask me that, Hi," said she, agitatedly, "I can't tell you that.
You don't know Levi, Hiram; I darsn't tell you anything he don't want
me to. If I told you where I been he'd hunt me out, no matter where I
was, and kill me. If you only knew what I know about him, Hiram, you
wouldn't ask anything about him."

Hiram stood looking broodingly at her for a long time; then at last he
again spoke. "I thought a sight of you onc't, Sally," said he.

Sally did not answer immediately, but, after a while, she suddenly
looked up. "Hiram," said she, "if I tell ye something will you promise
on your oath not to breathe a word to any living soul?" Hiram nodded.
"Then I'll tell you, but if Levi finds I've told he'll murder me as
sure as you're standin' there. Come nigher--I've got to whisper it."
He leaned forward close to her where she sat. She looked swiftly from
right to left; then raising her lips she breathed into his ear: "I'm
an honest woman, Hi. I was married to Levi West before I run away."

XI

The winter had passed, spring had passed, and summer had come.
Whatever Hiram had felt, he had made no sign of suffering.
Nevertheless, his lumpy face had begun to look flabby, his cheeks
hollow, and his loose-jointed body shrunk more awkwardly together into
its clothes. He was often awake at night, sometimes walking up and
down his room until far into the small hours.

It was through such a wakeful spell as this that he entered into the
greatest, the most terrible, happening of his life.

It was a sulphurously hot night in July. The air was like the breath
of a furnace, and it was a hard matter to sleep with even the easiest
mind and under the most favorable circumstances. The full moon shone
in through the open window, laying a white square of light upon the
floor, and Hiram, as he paced up and down, up and down, walked
directly through it, his gaunt figure starting out at every turn into
sudden brightness as he entered the straight line of misty light.

The clock in the kitchen whirred and rang out the hour of twelve, and
Hiram stopped in his walk to count the strokes.

The last vibration died a