A FORTNIGHT later, court came. Rome was going to Hazlan, and the feeble
old Stetson mother limped across the porch from the kitchen, trailing a
Winchester behind her. Usually he went unarmed, but he took the gun now,
as she gave it, in silence.
The boy Isom was not well, and Rome had told him to ride the horse. But
the lad had gone on afoot to his duties at old Gabe Bunch's mill, and
Rome himself rode down Thunderstruck Knob through the mist and dew of
the early morning. The sun was coming up over Virginia, and through a
dip in Black Mountain the foot-hills beyond washed in blue waves against
its white disk. A little way down the mountain, the rays shot through
the gap upon him, and, lancing the mist into tatters, and lighting the
dew-drops, set the birds singing. Rome rode, heedless of it all,
under primeval oak and poplar, and along rain-clear brooks and happy
waterfalls, shut in by laurel and rhododendron, and singing past mossy
stones and lacelike ferns that brushed his stirrup. On the brow of every
cliff he would stop to look over the trees and the river to the other
shore, where the gray line of a path ran aslant Wolf's Head, and was
lost in woods above and below.
At the river he rode up-stream, looking still across it. Old Gabe Bunch
halloed to him from the doorway of the mill, as he splashed through the
creek, and Isom's thin face peered through a breach in the logs. At the
ford beyond, he checked his horse with a short oath of pleased surprise.
Across the water, a scarlet dress was moving slowly past a brown field
of corn. The figure was bonneted, but he knew the girl's walk and the
poise of her head that far away. Just who she was, however, he did
not know, and he sat irresolute. He had seen her first a month since,
paddling along the other shore, erect, and with bonnet off and hair
down; she had taken the Lewallen path up the mountain. Afterward, he saw
her going at a gallop on young Jasper's gray horse, bareheaded again,
and with her hair loose to the wind, and he knew she was one of his
enemies. He thought her the girl people said young Jasper was going
to marry, and he had watched her the more closely. From the canoe she
seemed never to notice him; but he guessed, from the quickened sweep
of her paddle, that she knew he was looking at her, and once, when he
halted on his way home up the mountain, she half turned in her saddle
and looked across at him. This happened again, and then she waved her
bonnet at him. It was bad enough, any Stetson seeking any Lewallen for a
wife, and for him to court young Jasper's sweetheart-it was a thought to
laugh at. But the mischief was done. The gesture thrilled him, whether
it meant defiance or good-will, and the mere deviltry of such a
courtship made him long for it at every sight of her with the river
between them. At once he began to plan how he should get near her, but,
through some freak, she had paid no further heed to him. He saw her less
often-for a week, in-deed, he had not seen her at all till this day-and
the forces that hindrance generates in an imperious nature had been at
work within him. The chance now was one of gold, and with his life in
his hand he turned into the stream. Across, he could see something white
on her shoulder-an empty bag. It was grinding-day, and she was going to
the mill--the Lewallen mill. She stopped as he galloped up, and turned,
pushing back her bonnet with one hand; and he drew rein. But the
friendly, expectant light in her face kindled to such a blaze of anger
in her eyes that he struck his horse violently, as though the beast
had stopped of its own accord, and, cursing himself, kept on. A little
farther, he halted again. Three horsemen, armed with Winchesters, were
jogging along toward town ahead of him, and he wheeled about sharply.
The girl, climbing rapidly toward Steve Bray-ton's cabin, was out of the
way, but he was too late to reach the ford again. Down the road two
more Lewallens with guns were in sight, and he lashed his horse into the
stream where the water was deep. Old Gabe, looking from the door of his
mill, quit laughing to himself; and under cover of the woods, the girl
watched man and horse fighting the tide. Twice young Stetson turned his
head. But his enemies apparently had not seen him, and horse and rider
scrambled up the steep bank and under shelter of the trees. The girl had
evidently learned who he was. Her sudden anger was significant, as
was the sight of the Lewallens going armed to court, and Rome rode on,
uneasy.
When he reached Troubled Fork, in sight of Hazlan, he threw a cartridge
into place and shifted the slide to see that it was ready for use.
Passing old Jasper's store on the edge of the town, he saw the old man's
bushy head through the open door, and Lewallens and Braytons crowded out
on the steps and looked after him. All were armed. Twenty paces farther
he met young Jasper on his gray, and the look on his enemy's face made
him grip his rifle. With a flashing cross-fire from eye to eye, the two
passed, each with his thumb on the hammer of his Winchester. The groups
on the court-house steps stopped talking as he rode by, and turned to
look at him. He saw none of his own friends, and he went on at a gallop
to Rufe Stetson's store. His uncle was not in sight. Steve Marcum and
old Sam Day stood in the porch, and inside a woman was crying. Several
Stetsons were near, and all with grave faces gathered about him.
He knew what the matter was before Steve spoke. His uncle had been
driven from town. A last warning had come to him on the day before. The
hand of a friend was in the caution, and Rufe rode away at dusk. That
night his house was searched by men masked and armed. The Lewallens were
in town, and were ready to fight. The crisis had come.