Alcohol trafficking -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Tennessee -- Fiction
Thus he drew the conversation aside to the commercial aspects of the
situation, as if he acquiesced in Taft's view, and recurred to his
proposition no more. He controlled his voice, but his heart sunk like
lead. He had not dreamed but that they would be glad to let him go if
he quitted the region. He had not even feared that this resource was
in jeopardy. He could not imagine the turn of events which must needs
preclude his flight abroad, as well as his familiar appearance in his
wonted haunts about the Cove. He cursed his fatuity again and again
that he had not escaped when he could. What were the dangers of the
world at large in comparison with the mysterious menace that environed
him here? He dwelt continuously on these thoughts for a time, and it
was only gradually, and chiefly by reason of Sykes's leering grin and
secretly gleeful eye, that he became aware that this Benjamin amongst
them had been specially deputed to watch him. In the days of his own
terrors of the world without, he had ceased to go out for his meals or
to sleep. He subsisted on "snacks" which Taft fetched down from his own
table,--which abstraction caused no surprise to his small housekeeper,
for Miss Cornelia Taft had long since exhausted her capacities for
astonishment at any prodigies of food consumption on the part of her
father, who took such big bites in comparison with old Mrs. Jiniway's
custom,--and he slept at broken intervals, as his uneasy thoughts
permitted, on the empty meal sacks in the shadow of the piles of
barrels. This life continued now of necessity, as formerly of choice.
Larrabee's apparent acquiescence, he had a vague idea, surprised and
perturbed the others. They were evidently prepared for resistance
and harsh measures. They had lost their balance in some sort; their
attitude was like that of one who makes ready for a running leap,
and stops short of the jump. Thus, their unsteady, balked surprise
bore scant relation to their persistent, unchanged purpose, for their
watch upon him was not for one moment relaxed. Even in the network
of wrinkles about the sunken eyes of the elder distiller, a sort of
staggered, dumfounded suspicion expressed itself, in conjunction with
an observant heed of Larrabee's every movement which hitherto would not
have been allowed to absorb so much of the attention he was wont to
bestow on the still.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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