to the last man-第51章
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his respect。 Jean Isbel had given her at sight the deference that
she had unconsciously craved； and the love that would have been her
salvation。 What a horrible mistake she had made of her life！ Not her
mother's blood； but her father'sthe Jorth bloodhad been her ruin。
Again Ellen fell upon the soft pine…needle mat； face down； and she
groveled and burrowed there； in an agony that could not bear the sense
of light。 All she had suffered was as nothing to this。 To have awakened
to a splendid and uplifting love for a man whom she had imagined she
hated； who had fought for her name and had killed in revenge for the
dishonor she had avowedto have lost his love and what was infinitely
more precious to her now in her ignominyhis faith in her puritythis
broke her heart。
CHAPTER XI
When Ellen； utterly spent in body and mind； reached home that day a
melancholy； sultry twilight was falling。 Fitful flares of sheet
lightning swept across the dark horizon to the east。 The cabins were
deserted。 Antonio and the Mexican woman were gone。 The circumstances
made Ellen wonder； but she was too tired and too sunken in spirit to
think long about it or to care。 She fed and watered her horse and
left him in the corral。 Then； supperless and without removing her
clothes； she threw herself upon the bed； and at once sank into heavy
slumber。
Sometime during the night she awoke。 Coyotes were yelping； and from
that sound she concluded it was near dawn。 Her body ached； her mind
seemed dull。 Drowsily she was sinking into slumber again when she
heard the rapid clip…clop of trotting horses。 Startled； she raised
her head to listen。 The men were coming back。 Relief and dread
seemed to clear her stupor。
The trotting horses stopped across the lane from her cabin； evidently
at the corral where she had left Spades。 She heard him whistle。
》From the sound of hoofs she judged the number of horses to be six or
eight。 Low voices of men mingled with thuds and cracking of straps
and flopping of saddles on the ground。 After that the heavy tread
of boots sounded on the porch of the cabin opposite。 A door creaked
on its hinges。 Next a slow footstep； accompanied by clinking of spurs；
approached Ellen's door； and a heavy hand banged upon it。 She knew
this person could not be her father。
〃Hullo； Ellen！〃
She recognized the voice as belonging to Colter。 Somehow its tone；
or something about it； sent a little shiver clown her spine。 It acted
like a revivifying current。 Ellen lost her dragging lethargy。
〃Hey； Ellen； are y'u there？〃 added Colter； louder voice。
〃Yes。 Of course I'm heah；〃 she replied。 What do y'u want？〃
〃WalI'm shore glad y'u're home；〃 he replied。 〃Antonio's gone with
his squaw。 An' I was some worried aboot y'u。〃
〃Who's with y'u； Colter？〃 queried Ellen； sitting up。
〃Rock Wells an' Springer。 Tad Jorth was with us； but we had to leave
him over heah in a cabin。〃
〃What's the matter with him？〃
〃Wal； he's hurt tolerable bad；〃 was the slow reply。
Ellen heard Colter's spurs jangle； as if he had uneasily shifted his feet。
〃Where's dad an' Uncle Jackson？〃 asked Ellen。
A silence pregnant enough to augment Ellen's dread finally broke to
Colter's voice； somehow different。 〃Shore they're back on the trail。
An' we're to meet them where we left Tad。〃
〃Are yu goin' away again？〃
〃I reckon。 。 。 。 An'； Ellen； y'u're goin' with us。〃
〃I am not；〃 she retorted。
〃Wal； y'u are； if I have to pack y'u；〃 he replied； forcibly。 〃It's not
safe heah any more。 That damned half…breed Isbel with his gang are on
our trail。〃
That name seemed like a red…hot blade at Ellen's leaden heart。
She wanted to fling a hundred queries on Colter； but she could
not utter one。
〃Ellen； we've got to hit the trail an' hide；〃 continued Colter；
anxiously。 〃Y'u mustn't stay heah alone。 Suppose them Isbels would
trap y'u！ 。 。 。 They'd tear your clothes off an' rope y'u to a tree。
Ellen； shore y'u're goin'。 。 。 。 Y'u heah me！ 〃
〃YesI'll go；〃 she replied； as if forced。
〃Walthat's good；〃 he said； quickly。 〃An' rustle tolerable lively。
We've got to pack。〃
The slow jangle of Colter's spurs and his slow steps moved away out of
Ellen's hearing。 Throwing off the blankets； she put her feet to the
floor and sat there a moment staring at the blank nothingness of the
cabin interior in the obscure gray of dawn。 Cold； gray； dreary；
obscurelike her life； her future！ And she was compelled to do what
was hateful to her。 As a Jorth she must take to the unfrequented trails
and hide like a rabbit in the thickets。 But the interest of the moment；
a premonition of events to be； quickened her into action。
Ellen unbarred the door to let in the light。 Day was breaking with an
intense； clear； steely light in the east through which the morning star
still shone white。 A ruddy flare betokened the advent of the sun。
Ellen unbraided her tangled hair and brushed and combed it。 A queer；
still pang came to her at sight of pine needles tangled in her brown
locks。 Then she washed her hands and face。 Breakfast was a matter
of considerable work and she was hungry。
The sun rose and changed the gray world of forest。 For the first time
in her life Ellen hated the golden brightness； the wonderful blue of sky；
the scream of the eagle and the screech of the jay； and the squirrels
she had always loved to feed were neglected that morning。
Colter came in。 Either Ellen had never before looked attentively at
him or else he had changed。 Her scrutiny of his lean； hard features
accorded him more Texan attributes than formerly。 His gray eyes were
as light； as clear； as fierce as those of an eagle。 And the sand gray
of his face； the long； drooping； fair mustache hid the secrets of his
mind； but not its strength。 The instant Ellen met his gaze she sensed
a power in him that she instinctively opposed。 Colter had not been so
bold nor so rude as Daggs； but he was the same kind of man； perhaps the
more dangerous for his secretiveness； his cool； waiting inscrutableness。
〃'Mawnin'； Ellen！〃 he drawled。 〃Y'u shore look good for sore eyes。〃
〃Don't pay me compliments； Colter；〃 replied Ellen。 〃An' your eyes
are not sore。〃
〃Wal； I'm shore sore from fightin' an' ridin' an' layin' out；〃
he said； bluntly。
〃Tell mewhat's happened；〃 returned Ellen。
〃Girl； it's a tolerable long story；〃 replied Colter。 〃An' we've no
time now。 Wait till we get to camp。〃
〃Am I to pack my belongin's or leave them heah？〃 asked Ellen。
〃Reckon y'u'd better leavethem heah。〃
〃But if we did not come back〃
〃Wal； I reckon it's not likely we'll comesoon； 〃 he said； rather
evasively。
〃Colter； I'll not go off into the woods with just the clothes I have
on my back。〃
〃Ellen； we shore got to pack all the grab we can。 This shore ain't
goin' to be a visit to neighbors。 We're shy pack hosses。 But y'u
make up a bundle of belongin's y'u care for； an' the things y'u'll
need bad。 We'll throw it on somewhere。〃
Colter stalked away across the lane； and Ellen found herself dubiously
staring at his tall figure。 Was it the situation that struck her with
a foreboding perplexity or was her intuition steeling her against this
man？ Ellen could not decide。 But she had to go with him。 Her prejudice
was unreasonable at this portentous moment。 And she could not yet feel
that she was solely responsible to herself。
When it came to making a small bundle of her belongings she was in a
quandary。 She discarded this and put in that； and then reversed the
order。 Next in preciousness to her mother's things were the long…hidden
gifts of Jean Isbel。 She could part with neither。
While she was selecting and packing this bundle Colter again entered and；
without speaking； began to rummage in the corner where her father kept
his possessions。 This irritated Ellen。
〃What do y'u want there？〃 she demanded。
〃Wal； I reckon your dad wants his papersan' the gold he left heah
an' a change of clothes。 Now doesn't he？〃 returned Colter； coolly。
〃Of course。 But I supposed y'u would have me pack them。〃
Colter vouchsafed no reply to this； but deliberately went on rummaging；
with little regard f
