mor.

The homespun mask swayed with the distortions of his face as he sneered:

"Ye mean ter say ye don't 'low ter tell us."

"I dunno whar he be." Her voice had sunk to a whisper.

Another exchange of glances.

"Wa'al, ma'am, jes gin us the favor of a light by yer fire, an' we-uns
'll find him."

He stepped swiftly forward, thrust a pine torch into the coals, and with
it all whitely flaring ran out into the night; the others followed his
example; and the terror-stricken women, hastily barring up the door,
peered after them through the little batten shutter of the window.

*****

The torches were already scattered about the slopes of Lonesome Cove
like a fallen constellation. What shafts of white light they cast upon
the snow in the midst of the dense blackness of the night! Somehow they
seemed endowed with volition, as they moved hither and thither, for
their brilliancy almost cancelled the figures of the men that bore
them--only an occasional erratic shapeless shadow was visible. Now and
then a flare pierced the icicle-tipped holly bushes, and again there was
a fibrous glimmer in the fringed pines.

The search was terribly silent. The snow deadened the tread. Only the
wind was loud among the muffled trees, and sometimes a dull thud sounded
when the weight of snow fell from the evergreen laurel as the men
thrashed through its dense growth. They separated after a time, and
only here and there an isolated stellular light illumined the snow, and
conjured white mystic circles into the wide spaces of the darkness. The
effort flagged at last, and its futility sharpened the sense of injury
in Luke Todd's heart.

He was alone now, close upon the great rock, and looking at its jagged
ledges all cloaked with snow. Above those soft white outlines drawn
against the deep clear sky the frosty stars scintillated. Beneath were
the abysmal depths of the valley masked by the darkness.

His pride was touched. In the old quarrel his revenge had been hampered,
for it was the girl's privilege to choose, and she had chosen. He cared
nothing for that now, but he felt it indeed a reproach to tamely let
this man take his horse when he had all the mountain at his back. There
was a sharp humiliation in his position. He felt the pressure of public
opinion.

"Dad-burn him!" he exclaimed. "Ef I kin make out ter git a glimge o'
him, I'll shoot him dead--dead!"

He leaned the rifle against the rock. It struck upon a ledge. A metallic