The Story of a Country TownHowe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
General
The Story of a Country Town
Howe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Kansas -- Fiction
Agnes kissed her father over and over, and, wiping away his tears,
placed his arms about her again, and hid her face on his breast. He was
such a large man, and Agnes such a little girl, that his great arms
almost hid her from sight.
“It is so strange as to need an explanation,” Barker said, with an
effort, looking at my mother, who was still softly crying, and then at
me, who could do nothing but look on in wonder; “but I will never
explain to Agnes further than that she has been the object of my
thoughts and prayers ever since I so strangely deserted her. However
much I may have sinned in other ways I have always loved the child;
there is nothing between us. I have been an honest man except in the
particular which must be in all your minds, and which it is best never
to mention. My secret shall be buried in the grave which we filled up
out yonder;” he pointed his hand in the direction of the Smoky Hills,
and I thought his old look of hate came into his eyes; “though I have
the story written, and Ned shall read it and judge me. I ask him now to
read what I have written from my heart during these two months, and then
tell you two whether I was justified in the course I took; whether I
have been worse than other men who have erred, and suffered. But if I
have sinned I have wiped it all out by waiting in the solitude of the
woods for the day when I could claim Agnes; in the dreadful fear for her
safety, and the prickings of conscience; but if this is not enough I
will do penance the remainder of my life that I may be father to my
child again. Will you accept me, Agnes, with no other explanation?”
The strange house at the mill, and its strange occupant, were now clear
to me, for I knew that when I had seen him in the middle of the night
ready to run away; when I had seen him always quickly looking about like
a hunted man, he was fearful the little old woman who had frightened me
at the house of Lytle Biggs would burst in upon him like a phantom, with
her snarling voice, and ugly face, and scold him as she scolded Big
Adam.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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