give the spirit--what it craves--and 'tis
sometimes--strong enough--to gallop the flesh where it will. Lord,
I've seen a tree blossom in the fall, when 'twas warm enough. It may
be a long life we'll--live together, Madelon. Don't--cheat--yourself
into--thinking you'll be my widow, instead of--my wife. My wife you
may be, and--the mother of my children."

Madelon moved towards him with a curious, pushing motion, as if she
thrust out of her way her own will. She bent over him her white face,
holding her body aloof. "I will marry you, come what will. Now, set
him free."

Great tears stood in Lot's eyes. "Oh," he whispered, "you think only
of him. I love you better than he does, Madelon."

"Set him free," said she, in a hard voice.

Lot heaved a great sigh, and rolled his eyes feebly about towards the
door.

"Find--Margaret Bean," he began; and with that Margaret Bean, who had
kept the door ajar, slid out softly, "and tell her--to send her
husband to--Parson Fair, and--Jonas Hapgood, and she--must go the
other way for--the doctor. Tell them to come at once."

With that Lot fell to coughing again, but Madelon went out quickly,
and found Margaret Bean in the kitchen mixing gruel.

"Mr. Gordon wishes your husband to go at once for Parson Fair and
Jonas Hapgood, and you for the doctor," said she.

"Is he took worse?" asked Margaret Bean, innocently, with a quick
sniff of apprehension.

"No, he is no worse, but he wishes to see them. He said to go at
once."

Margaret Bean cast an injured eye at the window, all blurred with the
clinging shreds of the storm. "I don't see how I can get out in this
awful storm nohow," she said. "I've got rheumatism now. Why can't
_he_ go to see 'em all, I'd like to know?"

"The doctor lives a quarter of a mile the other way. It will save
time."

Margaret Bean looked at the gruel. "I've got to make this gruel for
him."

"I will make it. Get your shawl, quick."

"It ain't b'iled."

"I tell you I will make it."

"Why can't _he_ go to both places?"

"I will go myself!" Madelon cried, suddenly. She had been bewildered,
or that would have occurred to her before. She had never been one to
send where she could go, but for the time Lot Gordon's will had
overcome hers. "Tell your husband to go to the parson's and the
sheriff's, quick, and I will go for the doctor," said she, and was
flashing out of the yard in her red cloak before Margaret Bean had
time to turn herself about from the