honestly disclaimed, any
knowledge of the infamy that had been aimed at old Jim Rowlett, but even
in their frothy folly and yeasty clamour none was so bereft as to deny
that the Harpers must face accountability. If war were inevitable,
argued the hotheads, it were wisdom to strike the first blow.

Yet Aaron, who had during the whole long truce been fretting for a free
hand, listened now with a self-governed balance that astonished his
visitors.

"Men," said he with a ring of authority in his voice, "thar hain't no
profit in headlong over-hastiness. I've been foreseein' this hour an'
prayin' fer guidance. We've got ter hev speech with young Parish
Thornton afore we turns a wheel."

Sim Squires had not been enlisting his recruits from the ranks of those
who wished to turn to Thornton, and from them rose a yelping clamour of
dissent, but Aaron quelled that mutiny aborning and went evenly on.

"Ef warfare lays ahead of us we hev need ter stand tergether solid--an'
thar's good men amongst us thet wouldn't nuver fergive affrontin' old
Caleb's memory by plum lookin' over his gal's husband. Thet's my
counsel, an' ef ye hain't a-goin' ter heed hit----"

The quiet voice ripped abruptly into an explosiveness under which some
of them cowered as under a lash.

"Then I reckon thar'll be Thorntons an' Harpers thet _will_--an they'll
fight both ther Doanes an' your crowd alike."

CHAPTER XVI

Parish Thornton sat on the doorstep of the house gazing abstractedly
upward where through soft meshes of greenery the sunlight filtered.

Here, he told himself, he ought to be happy beyond any whisper of
discontent--save for the fret of his lingering weakness. Through the
open door of the house came the voice of Dorothy raised in song, and the
man's face softened and the white teeth flashed into a smile as he
listened. Then it clouded again.

Parish Thornton did not know all the insidious forces that were working
in the silences of the hills, but he divined enough to feel the brewing
of a storm, which, in its bursting, might strike closer and with more
shattering force than the bolt that had scarred the giant tree trunk.

Two passions claimed his deep acknowledgment of allegiance and now they
stood in conflict. One was as clear and flawlessly gracious as the arch
of blue sky above him--and that was his love; the other was as wild and
impetuous as the tempests which sprang to ungoverned life among these
crags--and that was his