ike a restless,
dark ghost. For her, the night and the storm had no terrors; passion
had driven out fear. There was determination in her every movement,
and purpose was apparent in the concentration of energy with which she
set her foot down. She drew the shawl closer about her head with a
convulsive grip, and muttered with a half sob, "'Tain't the first
time, 'tain't the first time she's tried to take me down in comp'ny,
but--" and the sob gave way to the dry, sharp note in her voice, "I'll
fix her, if it kills me. She thinks I ain't her ekals, does she?
'Cause her pap's got money, an' has good crops on his lan', an' my pap
ain't never had no luck, but I'll show 'er, I'll show 'er that good
luck can't allus last. Pleg-take 'er, she's jealous, 'cause I'm better
lookin' than she is, an' pearter in every way, so she tries to make me
little in the eyes of people. Well, you'll find out what it is to be
pore--to have nothin', Seliny Williams, if you live."

The black night hid a gleam in the girl's eyes, and her shawl hid a
bundle of something light, which she clutched very tightly, and which
smelled of kerosene.

The dark outline of a house and its outbuildings loomed into view
through the dense gloom; and the increased caution with which the girl
proceeded, together with the sudden breathless intentness of her
conduct, indicated that it was with this house and its occupants she
was concerned.

The house was cellarless, but it was raised at the four corners on
heavy blocks, leaving a space between the ground and the floor, the
sides of which were partly closed by banks of ashes and earth which
were thrown up against the weather-boarding. It was but a few minutes'
work to scrape away a portion of this earth, and push under the pack
of shavings into which the mysterious bundle resolved itself. A match
was lighted, sheltered, until it blazed, and then dropped among them.
It took only a short walk and a shorter time to drop a handful of
burning shavings into the hay at the barn. Then the girl turned and
sped away, muttering: "I reckon I've fixed you, Seliny Williams,
mebbe, next time you meet me out at a dance, you won't snub me; mebbe
next time, you'll be ez pore ez I am, an'll be willin' to dance crost
from even ole 'Lias Hunster's gal."

The constantly falling drizzle might have dampened the shavings and
put out the fire, had not the wind fanned the sparks into too rapid a
flame, which caught eagerly at shingle, board a