That's right,"said her father,approvingly,but with a look of drunken malignancy toward Clayton."Now,"he called out,in a loud voice,"I want this couple to have the floor,'n'everybody to look on 'n'see what is dancin'.Start the fiddles,boys."It was dancing.The young mountaineer was a slender,active fellow,not without grace,and Easter seemed hardly to touch the floor.They began very slowly at first,till Easter,glancing aside at Clayton and seeing his face deepen with interest,and urged by the remonstrance of het father,the remarks of the onlookers,and the increasing abandon of the music,gave herself up to the dance.The young mountaineer was no mean partner.Forward and back they glided,their swift feet beating every note of the music;Faster receding before her partner,and now advancing toward him,now whirling away with a disdainful toss of her head and arms,and now giving him her hand and whirling till her white skirts floated from the floor.At last,with head bent coquettishly toward her partner,she danced around him,and when it seemed that she would be caught by his outstretched hands she slipped from his clasp,and,with burning cheeks,flashing eyes,and bridal wreath showering its pink-flecked petals about her,flew to Clayton's side.
Mebbe ye don't like that,"cried Hicks,turning to Raines,who had been gravely watching the scene.
Raines said nothing in reply,but only looked the drunken man in the face.
"You two,"he continued,indicating Clayton with an angry shake of his head,"air a-tryin'to spile ever'body's fun.Both of ye air too high-heeled fer us folks.Y'u hev got mighty good now that ye air a preacher,"he added,with a drunken sneer,irritated beyond endurance by Raines's silence and his steady look."I want ye to know Bill Hicks air a-runnin'things here,'n'I don't want no meddlin'.I'll drink right here in front o'ye "-holding a bottle defiantly above his head-"'n'I mean to dance,too,I warn ye now,"he added,staggering toward the door,"I don't want no med-dlin'."Easter had buried her face in her hands.Her mother stood near her husband,helplessly trying to get him away,and fearing to arouse him more.Raines was the most composed man in the room,and a few moments later,when dancing was resumed,Clayton heard his voice at his ear:
"You'd better go upstairs 'n'wait till it's time to go,"he said."He hev got roused ag'in ye,and ag'in me too.I'll keep out o'his way so as not to aggravate him,but I'll stay hyar fer fear something will happen.Mebbe he'll sober up a little,but I'm afeard he'll drink more'n ever."A moment later,unseen by the rest,the two mounted the stairway to the little room where Easter's girlhood had been passed.To Clayton the peace of the primitive little chamber was an infinite relief.A dim light showed a rude bed in one corner and a pine table close by,whereon lay a few books and a pen and an ink-bottle.Above,the roof rose to a sharp angle,and the low,unplastered walls were covered with pietures cut from the books he had given her.A single window opened into the night over the valley and to the mountains beyond.Two small cane-bottom chairs were near this,and in these they sat down.In the east dark clouds were moving swiftly across the face of the moon,checking its light anJ giving the dim valley startling depth and blackness.
Rain-drops struck the roof at intervals,a shower of apple-blossoms rustled against the window and drifted on,and below the muffled sound of music and shuffling feet was now and then pierced by the shrill calls of the prompter.There was something ominous in the persistent tread of feet and the steady flight of the gloomy clouds,and quivering with vague fears,Easter sank down from her chair to Clayton's feet,and burst into tears,as he put his arms tenderly about her.
Has he ever treated you badly?
"No,no,"she answered;"it's only the whiskey."It was not alone of her father's behavior that she was thinking.
Memories were busy within her,and a thousand threads of feeling were tightening her love of home,the only home she had ever known.Now she was leaving it for a strange world of which she knew nothing,and the thought pierced her like a physical pain.
"Are we ever coming back ag'in?"she asked,with sudden fear.
Yes,dear,"answered Clayton,divining her thoughts;"whenever you wish."After that she grew calmer,and remained quiet so long that she seemed to have fallen asleep like a tired child relieved of its fears.
Leaning forward,he looked into the darkness.It was after midnight,surely.The clouds had become lighter,more luminous,and gradually the moon broke through them,lifting the pall from the valley,playing about the edge of the forest,and quivering at last on the window.As he bent back to look at the sleeping girl,the moonlight fell softly upon her face,revealing its purity of color,and touching the loosened folds of her hair,and shining through a tear-drop which had escaped from her closed lashes.
