With a backward motion of her head toward the window, Fledra drawled out the last words insultingly. That she preferred Lem to him wounded Everett's pride, but made him desire her the more. He loved her just then so much that, if it had been in his power, he would have married her instantly. Her fine-fibered spirit attracted all the evil in him as a magnet draws a needle. Fledra brought him from his reverie. "There ain't no use of my standin' here any longer," she said. "I might as well go and ask Pappy Lon. He's better'n you." To let her go this way seemed intolerable. "Wait," he commanded, "wait! When you came in, I didn't mean to offend you. Will you wait?" "If ye'll help me keep away from Pappy Lon, and will promise nothin' will happen to Brother Horace or to Fluke." "I can't do that; it's impossible. But I can take you away, after you get back to Ithaca." "Can I come back to Brother Horace?" "No, no; you can't go there again! Now, listen, Fledra Cronk. I'll marry you as soon as you'll let me." Fledra's eyelids quivered. "I'll stay with Pappy Lon and Lem, because I love Sister Ann too well to go with you." "Oh, I thought that was the reason," said Everett. "All your hard words to me were from your tender, grateful heart. That only makes me like you the better." Fledra turned to go. "But I don't like you, and I never will. Let me go now, because I'm goin' down to the scow to Pappy Lon." Brimbecomb threw out an arm with an impetuous swing; but Fledra darted under it. "Don't--don't!" she cried brokenly. "Don't you never touch me, never--never! I don't want you to! Let me go now, please." Everett stepped aside and allowed her to reach the door. "I shall help you, if I can, child," he put in, as she sprang out. "Remember--" But Fledra did not wait to hear. She was outside the door and flying down the steps. * * * * * The wind came sharply from the north as, dejectedly, the girl made her way to the river. She had decided to appeal to Lon, to beg her future of him. Before she reached the scow, she could hear the gurgle of the river, and the sound of the water came familiarly to her ears. Lem's boat lay like a silent, black animal near the bank, and she came to a stop at sight of it. How many times had she seen the dark boat snuggled in the gloom as she saw it now! How many times before had the candle twinkled from the small window, and the sign of life caused her to shiver in fear! But, thinking of what Lon's consent for her to remain with her dear ones meant, she mounted the gangplank and descended the short flight of stairs.