The Man Thou Gavest Part 15

"Listen!" The face upon Truedale's breast was lifted. "You hear that?"

"Yes. What is it?" Truedale was alarmed.

"It means that the little streams are rivers; it means that the trails are full of rocks and trees; it means"--the words sank to an awed whisper--"it means that we must _fight_ for what we-all want to keep."

"Good G.o.d! Nella-Rose, but where can I take you?"

"There is no place--but here."

It seemed an hour that the silence lasted while Truedale faced this new phase and came to his desperate conclusion.

Had any one suggested to him then that his decision was the decision of weakness, or immemorial evil, he would have resented the thought with bitterest scorn. Unknowingly he was being tempted by the devil in him, and he fell; he had only himself to look to for salvation from his mistaken impulses, and his best self, unprepared, was drugged by the overpowering appeal that Nella-Rose made to his senses.

Standing with the girl in his arms; listening to the oncoming danger which, he realized at last, might destroy him and her at any moment; bereft of every one--everything that could have held them to the old ideals; Truedale saw but one course--and took it.

"There is no place but here--no one but you and me!"

The soft tones penetrated to the troubled place where Truedale seemed to stand alone making his last, losing fight.

"Then, by heaven!" he said, "let us accept it--you and I!"

He had crossed his Rubicon.

They ate, almost solemnly; they listened to that awful roar growing more and more distinct and menacing. Nella-Rose was still and watchful, but Truedale had never been more cruelly alive than he was then when, with his wider knowledge, he realized the step he had taken. Whether it were for life or death, he had blotted out effectually all that had gone to the making of the man he once was. Whatever hope he might have had of making Lynda Kendall and Brace understand, had things gone as he once had planned, there was no hope now. No--he and Nella-Rose were alone and helpless in the danger-haunted hills. He and she!

The sun made an effort to come forth later but the rush and roar of the oncoming torrent seemed to daunt it. For an hour it struggled, then gave up. But during that hour Truedale led Nella-Rose from the house.

Silently they made their way to a little hilltop from which they could see an open s.p.a.ce of dull, leaden sky. There Truedale took the girl's hands in his and lifted his eyes while his benumbed soul sought whatever G.o.d there might be.

"In Thy sight," he said slowly, deeply, "I take this woman for my wife.

Bless us; keep us; and"--after a pause--"deal Thou with me as I deal with her."

Then the earnest eyes dropped to the frightened ones searching his face.

"You are mine!" Truedale spoke commandingly, with a force that never before had marked him.

"Yes." The word was a faint, frightened whisper.

"My darling, kiss me!"

She kissed him with trembling lips.

"You love me?"

"I--I love you."

"You--you trust me?"

"I--oh! yes; yes."

"Then come, my doney-gal! For life or death, it is you and I, little woman, from now on!"

Like a flash his gloom departed. He was gay, desperate, and free of all hampering doubts. In such a mood Nella-Rose lost all fear of him and walked by his side as complacently as if the one minister in her sordid little world had with all his strange authority said his sacred "Amen"

over her.

CHAPTER VIII

There were five days of terrific storm. Truedale and Nella-Rose had fought to save White's live stock--even his cabin itself; for the deluge had attacked that while leaving safe the smaller cabin near by. All one morning they had worked gathering debris and placing it so that it turned the course of a rapid stream that threatened the larger house. It had been almost a lost hope, but as the day wore on the torrent lessened, the rough barrier held--they were successful! The gate and snake-fence were carried away, but the rest was saved!

In the strenuous labour, in the dangerous isolation, the ordinary things of life lost their importance. With death facing them their love and companionship were all that were left to them and neither counted the cost. But on the sixth day the sun shone, the flood was past, and with safety and the sure coming of Jim White at hand, they sat confronting each other in a silence new and potent.

"Sweetheart, you must go--for a few hours!"

Truedale bent across the table that separated them and took her clasped hands in his. He had burned all his social bridges, but poor Nella-Rose's progress through life had not been made over anything so substantial as bridges. She had proceeded by scrambling down and up primitive obstacles; she felt that at last she had come to her Land of Promise.

"You are going to send me--away? Where?"

"Only until White returns, little girl. See here, dear, you and I are quite gloriously mad, but others are stupidly sane and we've got to think of them."

Truedale was talking over her head, but already Nella-Rose accepted this as a phase of their new relations. A mountain man might still love his woman even if he beat her and, while Nella-Rose would have scorned the suggestion that she was a mountain woman, she did seriously believe that men were different from women and that was the end of the matter!

"You run along, small girl of mine--the skies are clear, the sun warm--but I want you to meet me at three o'clock at the spot where the trail joins the road. I will be there and I will wait for you."

"But why?--why?" The blue-gray eyes were troubled.

"Sweetheart, we're going to find that minister of yours if we have to travel from one end of the hills to the other!"

"But we-all are married!" This with a little gasp. "Back on the hill, when you told G.o.d and said He understood; then we-all were married."

"And so we were, my sweet, no minister could make you more mine than you already are, but the others--your people. Should they try to separate us they might cause trouble and the minister can make it impossible for any one to take you away from my love and care."

And at that moment Truedale actually believed what he said. In his heart he had always been a rebel--defiant and impotent. He had, in this instance, proved his theories; but he did not intend to leave loose ends that might endanger the safety of others--of this young girl, most of all. He was only going to carry out his original plans for her safety--not his own. After the days just past--days of anxiety, relief, and the proving of his love and hers--no doubt remained in Truedale's heart; he was of the hills, now and forever!

"No one can--_now_!" This came pa.s.sionately from Nella-Rose as she watched him.

"They might make trouble until they found that out. They're too free with their guns. There's a lot to explain, little doney-gal." Conning smiled down her doubts.

"Until three o'clock!" Nella-Rose pouted, "that's a right long time. But I'll--just run along. Always and always I'm going to do what you say!"

Already his power over her was absolute. She put her arms out with a happy, wilful gesture and Truedale held her closer.

"Only until three, sweetheart."

Nella-Rose drew herself away and turned to pick up her little shawl and hat from the couch by the fire; she was just reaching for her basket, when a shadow fell across the floor. Truedale and the girl turned and confronted--Jim White! What he had seen and heard--who could tell from his expressionless face and steady voice? The door had been on the latch and he had come in!

"Mail, and truck, and rabbits!" he explained, tossing his load upon the table. Then he turned toward Truedale as if noticing him for the first time.