ot
failed to perceive her own agency in the betrayal of his secret, when
the story of the discovery of the oil was blazoned to all the world by
those mystically flaring waters in the deeps of the mountain night. It
was she who had idly kindled them; she who had robbed him of his
rights, of the wealth that these interlopers were garnering. She had
sent him to his grave baffled, beaten, forlorn, wondering at the
mystery of the hand that out of the dark had smitten him. She kept her
own counsel. Her white face grew set and stern. Her words were few.
She had no tears. And Ben, who found his tyrant only the harder and
the colder, scarcely remonstrated, and could only marvel when one
keen, chill afternoon she sprang up, throwing her brown shawl over her
head, and declared that she was going to the oil wells to see for
herself what progress was making there.

All sylvan grace had departed from the spot. As the two stood on the
verge of the clear space, now gashed deep in every direction in the
woods and larger by a hundred acres, grim derricks rose sharply
outlined against the wintry sky. It was barred with strata of gray
clouds in such sombre neutrality of tint that one, in that it was less
gloomy than the others, gave a suggestion of blue. Patches of snow lay
about the ground. Cinders and smoke had blackened them here and there.
The steam-engine, with its cylindrical boiler, seemed in the dusk some
uncanny monster that had taken up its abode here, and rejoiced in the
desolation it had wrought, and lived by ill deeds. It was letting off
steam, and now and then it gave a puffing sigh as if it were tired
after its day's work. The laborers were of a different type from the
homely neighbors, and returned the contempt with which the
mountaineers gazed upon them. Great piles of wood showed how the
forests were being rifled for fuel. Many trees had been felled in
provident foresight, and lay along the ground in vast lengths,
awaiting the axe; so many that adown the avenues thus opened toward
the valley a wan glimmering caught the girl's eye, and she recognized
the palings of the little mountain graveyard.

She clutched her brother's arm and pointed to it. Her eyes grew
dilated and wild, her face was pale and drawn; her hand trembled as
she held it out.

"Ye see, Ben, he's close enough ter view it all--an' mebbe he
does--an' he knows now who he hev got ter thank fur it all--an' I
wisht he war hyar, whar I am, an' I war thar, whar