he　knew　how　often　she　had　gone　to　the　mill；　and　he　could　not　know　that　she　had　ever　been　sent。　　Perhaps　he　thought　that　she　had　come　to　make　overtures　of　peace；　friendship；　even　more。　　The　suspicion　reddened　her　face　with　shame；　and　her　anger　at　him　was　turned　upon　herself。　Why　she　had　gone　again　that　day　she　hardly　knew。　　But　if　there　was　another　reason　than　simple　perversity；　it　was　the　memory　of　Rome　Stetson's　face　when　he　caught　her　boat　and　spoke　to　her　in　a　way　she　could　not　answer。　　The　anger　of　the　moment　came　with　every　thought　of　the　incident　afterward；　and　with　it　came　too　this　memory　of　his　look；　which　made　her　at　once　defiant　and　uneasy。　She　saw　him　now　only　when　she　was　quite　close；　and；　startled；　she　stood　still；　his　stern　look　brought　her　the　same　disquiet；　but　she　gave　no　sign　of　fear。
  Whut's　the　matter　with　ye？
  The　question　was　too　abrupt；　too　savage；　and　the　girl　looked　straight　at　him；　and　her　lips　tightened　with　a　resolution　not　to　speak。　　The　movement　put　him　beyond　control。
  〃Y'u　puts　hell　into　me；　Marthy　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　mount　ins；　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；　and　the　tone　was　of　appeal；　not　anger。　　The　black　look　passed　from　his　face；　and　he　caught　her　by　the　shoulders　with　rough　tenderness；　but　she　pushed　him　away；　and　without　a　word　he　sprang　from　the　road　and　let　himself　noiselessly　down　the　cliff。　The　hoof…beats　thundered　above　his　head；　and　Young　Jasper's　voice　hailed　Martha。
  This　hyeh's　the　bigges'　meal　I　ever　straddled。　　Why　d'n't　ye　git　the　grist　ground？〃
  For　a　moment　the　girl　did　not　answer；　and　Rome　waited；　breathless。　　〃　Wasn't　the　mill　runnin'？　　Whyn't　ye　go　on　'cross　the　river？
  That's　whut　I　did；〃　said　the　girl；　quietly。　Uncle　Gabe　wasn't　thar；　'n'　Rome　Stetson　was。　　I　wouldn't　'low　him　to　grin'　the　co　'n；　'n'　so　I　toted　hit　back。〃
  Rome　Stetson！　〃　　The　voice　was　lost　in　a　volley　of　oaths。
  The　two　passed　out　of　hearing；　and　Rome　went　plunging　down　the　mountain；　swinging　recklessly　from　one　little　tree　to　another；　and　wrenching　limbs　from　their　sockets　out　of　pure　physical　ecstasy。　　When　he　reached　his　horse　he　sat　down；　breathing　heavily；　on　a　bed　of　moss；　with　a　strange　new　yearning　in　his　heart。　　If　peace　should　come！　　Why　not　peace；　if　Rufe　should　not　come　back？　　He　would　be　the　leader　then；　and　without　him　there　could　be　no　war。　Old　Jasper　had　killed　his　father。　　He　was　too　young　at　the　time　to　feel　poignant　sorrow　now；　and　somehow　he　could　look　even　at　that　death　in　a　fairer　way。　　His　father　had　killed　old　Jasper's　brother。　　So　it　went　back：　a　Lewallen　killed　a　Stetson；　that　Stetson　had　killed　a　Lewallen；　until　one　end　of　the　chain　of　deaths　was　lost；　and　the　first　fault　could　not　be　placed；　though　each　clan　put　it　on　the　other。　　In　every　generation　there　had　been　compromises…　periods　of　peace；　why　not　now？　　Old　Gabe　would　gladly　help　him。　　He　might　make　friends　with　young　Jasper；　he　might　even　end　the　feud。　And　then…he　and　Martha…why　not？　　He　closed　his　eyes；　and　for　one　radiant　moment　t　all　seemed　possible。　　And　then　a　gaunt　image　rose　in　the　dream；　and　only　the　image　was　left。　It　was　the　figure　of　his　mother；　stern　and　silent　through　the　years；　opening　her　grim　lips　rarely　without　some　curse　against　the　Lewallen　race。　He　remembered　she　had　smiled　for　the　first　time　when　she　heard　of　the　new　trouble…the　flight　of　his　uncle　and　the　hope　of　conflict。　　She　had　turned　to　him　with　her　eyes　on　fire　and　her　old　hands　clinched。　　She　had　said　nothing；　but　he　understood　her　look。　　And　now…Good　God！　what　would　she　think　and　say　if　she　could　know　what　he　had　done？　　His　whole　frame　twitched　at　the　thought；　and；　with　a　nervous　spring　to　escape　it；　he　was　on　his　feet；　and　starting　down　the　mountain。
  Close　to　the　river　he　heard　voices　below　him；　and　he　turned　his　horse　quickly　aside　into　the　bushes。　　Two　women　who　had　been　washing　clothes　passed；　carrying　white　bundles　home。　They　were　talking　of　the　coming　feud。
  〃That　ar　young　Stetson　ain't　much　like　his　dad；〃　said　one。　　〃Young　Jas　has　been　a…darin'　'n'　a…banterin'　him；　'n'　he　won't　take　it　up。　They　say　he　air　turnin'　out　a　plumb　coward。〃
  When　he　reached　the　Stetson　cabin　three　horses　with　drooping　heads　were　hitched　to　the　fence。　　All　had　travelled　a　long　way。　　One　wore　a　man's　saddle；　on　the　others　were　thick　blankets　tied　together　with　leathern　thongs。
  In　the　dark　porch　sat　several　men。　　Through　the　kitchen　door　he　could　see　his　mother　getting　supper。　　Inside　a　dozen　rifles　leaned　against　the　wall　in　the　firelight；　and　about　their　butts　was　a　pile　of　ammunition。　　In　the　doorway　stood　Rufe　Stetson。
  IX
  ALL　were　smoking　and　silent。　Several　spoke　from　the　shadows　as　Rome　stepped　on　the　porch；　and　Rufe　Stetson　faced　him　a　moment　in　the　doorway；　and　laughed。
  Seem　kinder　s'prised？　〃　he　said；　with　a　searching　look。　　〃　Wasn't　lookin'　for　me？　　I　reckon　I'll　s'prise　sev'ral　ef　I　hev　good…luck。〃
  The　subtlety　of　this　sent　a　chuckle　of　appreciation　through　the　porch；　but　Rome　passed　in　without　answer。
  Isom　lay　on　his　bed　within　the　circle　of　light；　and　his　face　in　the　brilliant　glow　was　white；　and　his　eyes　shone　feverishly。　〃　Rome；〃　he　said；　excitedly；　〃　Uncle　Rufe's　hyeh；　'n'　they　laywayed　him；　'n'____〃　He　paused　abruptly。　His　mother　came　in；　and　at　her　call　the　mountaineers　trooped　through　the　covered　porch；　and　sat　down　to　supper　in　the　kitchen。　　They　ate　hastily　and　in　silence；　the　mother　attending　their　wants；　and　Rome　helping　her。　　The　meal　finished；　they　drew　their　chairs　about　the　fire。　　Pipes　were　lighted；　and　Rufe　Stetson　rose　and　closed　the　door。
  Thar's　no　use　harryin'　the　boy；〃　he　said；　〃I　reckon　he'll　be　too　puny　to　take　a　hand。〃
  The　mother　stopped　clearing　the　table；　and　sat　on　the　rock　hearth　close　to　the　fire；　her　withered　lips　shut　tight　about　a　lighted　pipe；　and　her　sunken　eyes　glowing　like　the　coal　of　fire　in　its　black　bowl。　　Now　and　then　she　would　stretch　her　knotted　hands　nervously　into　the　flames；　or　knit　them　about　her　knees；　looking　closely　at　the　heavy　faces　about　her；　which　had　lightened　a　little　with　expectancy。　　Rufe　Stetson　stood　before　the　blaze；　his　hands　clasped　behind　him；　and　his　huge　figure　bent　in　reflection。　　At　intervals　he　would　look　with　half…shut　eyes　at　Rome；　who　Sat　with　troubled　face　outside　the　firelight。　　Across　the　knees　of　Steve　Marcum；　the　best　marksman　in　the　mountains；　lay　the　barrel　of　a　new　Winchester。　　Old　Sam　Day；　Rufe's　father…in…law　and　counsellor　to　the　Stetsons　for　a　score　of　years；　sat　as　if　asleep　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　fireplace　from　the　old　mother；　with　his　big　square　head　pressed　down　between　his　misshapen　shoulders。
  〃The　time　hev　come；　Rome。〃　　Rufe　spoke　between　the　puffs　of　his　pipe；　and　Rome's　heart　quickened；　for　every　eye　was　upon　him。　　Thar's　goin'　to　be　trouble　now。　　I　hear　as　how　young　Jasper　hev　been　talkin'　purty　tall　about　ye…'lowin'　as　how　ye　ai