But suddenly, with a piercing shriek, she sprang away; then, clutching his arm, whirled him about. "Look!" she whispered, pointing a trembling finger to a pale, mysterious glow which seemed to be arising from the peaks of the distant Cumberlands. "The moon is coming up," he said, unsteadily. This was the first time either had spoken, either had moved; but now she commenced to sob in little gasps, backing farther from him as though he were something she dared not touch again--reaching blindly behind her for their old tree, whose strength in having resisted the fury of many storms might be imparted to her now. "What's the matter?" he asked, still stupidly. "Oh, Brent," she whispered, "I thought it was that blind girl lookin' down here an' tellin' me she'd rather see me dead! Go home, quick, for the love of Christ!" He would not ask her to explain. Non-understandable as her words had been, they had given him time to look about and see upon what a perilous brink their feet were standing. Brent was not a godly man; he had not cultivated Nancy with a grain of godly intention. But he was a manly man; and now as he suddenly realized, with that certainty which has no law, no rule, no answer, that she was good, he would not trust himself to speak. Shutting his teeth hard, he turned abruptly and almost ran toward the horse. Then it was that she threw herself upon the grass and sobbed great sobs of thankfulness; and tried to laugh, and tried to pray; holding out her clasped hands to that halo of light above a humble cabin somewhere in the mountains, in whose door a blind face had seemed to look down at her entreating: "I'd ruther see ye die!" It was in a perturbed but thoroughly sober mind that Brent dragged back the broken gate, whose openings and closings had worn a deep rut in the ground. He was about to untie his horse when the figure of a man appeared walking clumsily along the orchard fence. "Wait there," the fellow called. "I want to see you!" The heavy frame of Tom Hewlet came on, and no other word was spoken until he stopped three feet away. Swaying slightly, and looking into Brent's face with a simpering leer, in an undertone he said: "Come over some evenin' next week." "What for?" "I might say it's 'cause you're so purty to look at," he guffawed at this bit of humor. "But, fact is, it's on fam'ly matters." "You're coming apart, Tom. Go in and get some sleep!" "I was sleepin', till a empty whiskey bottle come sailin' through the air an' hit me on my hand." A cold shiver crawled up the engineer's spine, but he turned to unhitch the horse, saying casually: "You'll have blue mice sailing through the air if you don't sober up." "Don't be in a hurry," hiccoughed Tom. "Don't leave yoh would-be step-pappy without some kind of reminder. A fiver 'd go mighty fine jest now, an' you wouldn't never miss it!" Brent had wheeled on him. "You're getting in mighty dangerous ground, Tom," he warned sharply.