Her salvation was in a very small and commonplace thing. The picture of herself riding beside Blatch Turrentine brought back to her, with an awakening shock, the recollection of herself and Creed riding side by side, her arm across his shoulder, his drooping head against it. How purely happy she had been then--how innocent--how blest! What were these fires of torment that raged in her now? No, no! That might be lost to her; but even so, she could not decline from its dear memory to a mating like this. Without a word she turned and ran back to the house, never looking over her shoulder in response to the one or two cautious calls that Blatch sent after her. Judith's day was mercifully full of work. When Creed did not require her, Dilsey demanded help and direction, and one or two errands from outside kept her mind from sinking in upon itself. It was night-fall, Andy was lending her his awkward aid in the sick-room, when Jeff came in and beckoned the two of them out mysteriously. "How's Bonbright this evenin', Jude? Do you reckon I could have speech with him?" he asked in a troubled tone. Judith shook her head. Her own near approach to absolute failure in her charge that morning made her the more punctilious now. "No." She spoke positively. "Uncle Jep said he wasn't to be werried about anything." "Why, he's settin' up some, ain't he?" said the boy in surprise. "I thort he looked right peart." "Yes," agreed Judith dejectedly, "he's gettin' his strength all right; he does look well. But you ax him questions, or name anything to him to trouble him, an' it throws him right back. Uncle Jep says hit's more his mind than his body now. What is it ye want from Creed? Cain't I tend to it?" "I don't reckon a gal like you could he'p any," Jeff said doubtfully. His eye wandered toward his twin. "I reckon this is men's business. I've got word that Huldy Spiller--or some say Huldy Bonbright--is over at Blatch's cabin, and he's got her shut up." Judith's heart gave a great leap as of terror; the thing was out at last--people knew it. Then that heavily beating heart sank sickeningly; what difference to her, though all the world knew it? Yet she held to her trust. "Oh, shore not, Jeff. You cain't _nigh_ talk to him about nothin' like that," she maintained. "Uncle Jep made me promise that nothin' should be named to him to excite him." "Well, then," pursued Jeff, "pappy not bein' here, nor Wade, and Jim Cal over at Spiller's, an' the gal not havin' no men folks in reach, me an' Andy has got to look after this thing. Fact is, Blatch sent word that ef we wanted her we could come over and git her." "I don't know as we do want her--I don't know as we do," put in Andy. "And we both promised pappy that we wouldn't set foot on the land whilst Blatch had it rented." "Then ag'in," debated Jeff--"Oh, no, buddy, we cain't leave the gal thar. We're plumb obliged to find out if she wants to come away, anyhow." Andy turned to his cousin.