When the Court broke up, Olive and Cotterell were left alone in the store along with Phillipps, the storekeeper. The latter handed Cotterell his revolver, which the jury had considerately left for him. “I suppose I’m a free man,” said Cotterell, with more sign of emotion in his manner than he had yet shown. “Thanks to Mrs. Weston you are free,” said Phillipps. He turned to Olive, who seemed in a daze, and said, “Shall we go now?” “Yes,” she answered, and they left the store together. The crowd in the road before the door was already fast dispersing. The exciting climax for which they had waited was not to come off, so there remained no further inducement to stay. Some straggled into the smithy, some went towards the mills, but most of the men were getting their horses, putting on saddles, and settling halters and reins. The Arkansas man had a waggon and was hitching his horses to it, as Olive, riding on Rebel, and Cotterell on Queen Katharine, passed by. “Be yo’ gwine with him?” asked the Arkansas man, pointing to Olive. “Yes,” said Olive shortly. “Wish we’d hanged the damned cuss ’fore she come in,” said the Arkansas man regretfully to his companion, who had also been present at the trial. “She’s gwine ter ’lope with him, an’ ole man Weston he on’y jes’ married her las’ spring.” “Reckon she don’t like ’Fection City idees. Gals mos’ allers likes a fightin’ man best, an’ this hyar one is reg’lar downright handsome too.” “If we’d on’y hed a-hanged him she couldn’t hev run off with the coon,” repeated the Arkansas man with conviction, shaking his head sorrowfully as he watched the two disappearing among the trees on the South Fork. CHAPTER XIX. OLIVE MISSING. There was dire dismay at Perfection City when the flight of Olive became known. Napoleon Pompey informed Madame of it the same evening, but, for reasons best known to herself, she did not announce the fact until the next morning, when the brethren and sisters flocked to her house to talk over this surprising event in all its bearings. The members accounted for it in different ways and explained it according to their preconceived notions. Madame at once said that she had evidently left her husband whom she had never really loved at all. “I think we must all have noticed how utterly unsuited she was to him and how uncongenial. She was no fit companion for a man of Ezra’s mind,” said Madame. “Wal, now,” observed Uncle David, “I think such a purty little gal with sweet little kitten-ways was a most congenial companion.” “Uncle, you don’t understand men. Men with minds and high aspirations want a companion capable of sharing their ideas and aims, they don’t want a kitten or a plaything.” “My ’pinion is most men is satisfied with kittens, if they’re as soft an’ coaxin’ in their ways as little Ollie is,” replied Uncle David.