to the last man- 第45部分

The　dark　storm　cloud　with　its　white；　ragged　ropes　of　lightning　and
down…streaming　gray　veils　of　rain；　the　purple　gulf　rolling　like　a
colored　sea　to　the　dim　mountains；　the　glorious　golden　light　of　the
sunthese　had　enchanted　her　eyes　with　her　beauty　of　the　universe。
They　had　burst　the　windows　of　her　blindness。　　When　she　crawled　into
the　green…brown　covert　it　was　to　escape　too　great　perception。　　She
needed　to　be　encompassed　by　close；　tangible　things。　　And　there　her
body　paid　the　tribute　to　the　realization　of　life。　　Shock；　convulsion；
pain；　relaxation；　and　then　unutterable　and　insupportable　sensing　of
her　environment　and　the　heart！　　In　one　way　she　was　a　wild　animal
alone　in　the　woods；　forced　into　the　mating　that　meant　reproduction
of　its　kind。　　In　another　she　was　an　infinitely　higher　being　shot
through　and　through　with　the　most　resistless　and　mysterious　transport
that　life　could　give　to　flesh。

And　when　that　spell　slackened　its　hold　there　wedged　into　her　mind　a
consciousness　of　the　man　she　lovedJean　Isbel。　　Then　emotion　and
thought　strove　for　mastery　over　her。　　It　was　not　herself　or　love　that
she　loved；　but　a　living　man。　　Suddenly　he　existed　so　clearly　for　her
that　she　could　see　him；　hear　him；　almost　feel　him。　　Her　whole　soul；
her　very　life　cried　out　to　him　for　protection；　for　salvation；　for　love；
for　fulfillment。　　No　denial；　no　doubt　marred　the　white　blaze　of　her
realization。　　From　the　instant　that　she　had　looked　up　into　Jean　Isbel's
dark　face　she　had　loved　him。　　Only　she　had　not　known。　　She　bowed　now；
and　bent；　and　humbly　quivered　under　the　mastery　of　something　beyond
her　ken。　　Thought　clung　to　the　beginnings　of　her　romanceto　the
three　times　she　had　seen　him。　　Every　look；　every　word；　every　act　of
his　returned　to　her　now　in　the　light　of　the　truth。　　Love　at　first　sight！
He　had　sworn　it；　bitterly；　eloquently；　scornful　of　her　doubts。　　And　now
a　blind；　sweet；　shuddering　ecstasy　swayed　her。　　How　weak　and　frail
seemed　her　bodytoo　small；　too　slight　for　this　monstrous　and　terrible
engine　of　fire　and　lightning　and　fury　and　gloryher　heart！　　It　must
burst　or　break。　　Relentlessly　memory　pursued　Ellen；　and　her　thoughts
whirled　and　emotion　conquered　her。　　At　last　she　quivered　up　to　her
knees　as　if　lashed　to　action。　　It　seemed　that　first　kiss　of　Isbel's；
cool　and　gentle　and　timid；　was　on　her　lips。　　And　her　eyes　closed　and
hot　tears　welled　from　under　her　lids。　　Her　groping　hands　found　only
the　dead　twigs　and　the　pine　boughs　of　the　trees。　　Had　she　reached　out
to　clasp　him？　　Then　hard　and　violent　on　her　mouth　and　cheek　and　neck
burned　those　other　kisses　of　Isbel's；　and　with　the　flashing；　stinging
memory　came　the　truth　that　now　she　would　have　bartered　her　soul　for　them。
Utterly　she　surrendered　to　the　resistlessness　of　this　love。　　Her　loss
of　mother　and　friends；　her　wandering　from　one　wild　place　to　another；
her　lonely　life　among　bold　and　rough　men；　had　developed　her　for　violent
love。　　It　overthrew　all　pride；　it　engendered　humility；　it　killed　hate。
Ellen　wiped　the　tears　from　her　eyes；　and　as　she　knelt　there　she　swept
to　her　breast　a　fragrant　spreading　bough　of　pine　needles。　　〃I'll　go　to
him；〃　she　whispered。　　〃I'll　tell　him　ofof　mymy　love。　　I'll　tell　him
to　take　me　awayaway　to　the　end　of　the　worldaway　from　heahbefore
it's　too　late！〃

It　was　a　solemn；　beautiful　moment。　　But　the　last　spoken　words　lingered
hauntingly。　　〃Too　late？〃　she　whispered。

And　suddenly　it　seemed　that　death　itself　shuddered　in　her　soul。
Too　late！　　It　was　too　late。　　She　had　killed　his　love。　　That　Jorth
blood　in　herthat　poisonous　hatehad　chosen　the　only　way　to　strike
this　noble　Isbel　to　the　heart。　　Basely；　with　an　abandonment　of　womanhood；
she　had　mockingly　perjured　her　soul　with　a　vile　lie。　　She　writhed；　she
shook　under　the　whip　of　this　inconceivable　fact。　　Lost！　　Lost！　　She
wailed　her　misery。　　She　might　as　well　be　what　she　had　made　Jean　Isbel
think　she　was。　　If　she　had　been　shamed　before；　she　was　now　abased；
degraded；　lost　in　her　own　sight。　　And　if　she　would　have　given　her
soul　for　his　kisses；　she　now　would　have　killed　herself　to　earn　back
his　respect。　　Jean　Isbel　had　given　her　at　sight　the　deference　that
she　had　unconsciously　craved；　and　the　love　that　would　have　been　her
salvation。　　What　a　horrible　mistake　she　had　made　of　her　life！　　Not　her
mother's　blood；　but　her　father'sthe　Jorth　bloodhad　been　her　ruin。

Again　Ellen　fell　upon　the　soft　pine…needle　mat；　face　down；　and　she
groveled　and　burrowed　there；　in　an　agony　that　could　not　bear　the　sense
of　light。　　All　she　had　suffered　was　as　nothing　to　this。　　To　have　awakened
to　a　splendid　and　uplifting　love　for　a　man　whom　she　had　imagined　she
hated；　who　had　fought　for　her　name　and　had　killed　in　revenge　for　the
dishonor　she　had　avowedto　have　lost　his　love　and　what　was　infinitely
more　precious　to　her　now　in　her　ignominyhis　faith　in　her　puritythis
broke　her　heart。



CHAPTER　XI

When　Ellen；　utterly　spent　in　body　and　mind；　reached　home　that　day　a
melancholy；　sultry　twilight　was　falling。　　Fitful　flares　of　sheet
lightning　swept　across　the　dark　horizon　to　the　east。　　The　cabins　were
deserted。　　Antonio　and　the　Mexican　woman　were　gone。　　The　circumstances
made　Ellen　wonder；　but　she　was　too　tired　and　too　sunken　in　spirit　to
think　long　about　it　or　to　care。　　She　fed　and　watered　her　horse　and
left　him　in　the　corral。　　Then；　supperless　and　without　removing　her
clothes；　she　threw　herself　upon　the　bed；　and　at　once　sank　into　heavy
slumber。

Sometime　during　the　night　she　awoke。　　Coyotes　were　yelping；　and　from
that　sound　she　concluded　it　was　near　dawn。　　Her　body　ached；　her　mind
seemed　dull。　　Drowsily　she　was　sinking　into　slumber　again　when　she
heard　the　rapid　clip…clop　of　trotting　horses。　　Startled；　she　raised
her　head　to　listen。　　The　men　were　coming　back。　　Relief　and　dread
seemed　to　clear　her　stupor。

The　trotting　horses　stopped　across　the　lane　from　her　cabin；　evidently
at　the　corral　where　she　had　left　Spades。　　She　heard　him　whistle。
》From　the　sound　of　hoofs　she　judged　the　number　of　horses　to　be　six　or
eight。　　Low　voices　of　men　mingled　with　thuds　and　cracking　of　straps
and　flopping　of　saddles　on　the　ground。　　After　that　the　heavy　tread
of　boots　sounded　on　the　porch　of　the　cabin　opposite。　　A　door　creaked
on　its　hinges。　　Next　a　slow　footstep；　accompanied　by　clinking　of　spurs；
approached　Ellen's　door；　and　a　heavy　hand　banged　upon　it。　　She　knew
this　person　could　not　be　her　father。

〃Hullo；　Ellen！〃

She　recognized　the　voice　as　belonging　to　Colter。　　Somehow　its　tone；
or　something　about　it；　sent　a　little　shiver　clown　her　spine。　　It　acted
like　a　revivifying　current。　　Ellen　lost　her　dragging　lethargy。

〃Hey；　Ellen；　are　y'u　there？〃　added　Colter；　louder　voice。

〃Yes。　　Of　course　I'm　heah；〃　she　replied。　　What　do　y'u　want？〃

〃WalI'm　shore　glad　y'u're　home；〃　he　replied。　　〃Antonio's　gone　with
his　squaw。　　An'　I　was　some　worried　aboot　y'u。〃

〃Who's　with　y'u；　Colter？〃　queried　Ellen；　sitting　up。

〃Rock　Wells　an'　Springer。　　Tad　Jorth　was　with　us；　but　we　had　to　leave
him　over　heah　in　a　cabin。〃

〃What's　the　matter　with　him？〃　

〃Wal；　he's　hurt　tolerable　bad；〃　was　the　slow　reply。

Ellen　heard　Colter's　spurs　jangle；　as　if　he　had　uneasily　shifted　his　feet。

〃Where's　dad　an'　Uncle　Jackson？〃　asked　Ellen。

A　silence　pregnant　enough　to　augment　Ellen's　dread　finally　broke　to
Colter's　voice；　somehow　different。　　〃Shore　they're　back　on　the　trail。
An'　we're　to　meet　them　where　we　left　Tad。〃

〃Are　yu　goin'　away　again？〃

〃I　reckon。　。　。　。　An'；　Ellen；　y'u're　goin'　with　us。〃

〃I　am　not；〃　she　retorted。

〃Wal；　y'u　are；　if　I　have　to　pack　y'u；〃　he　replied；　forcibly。　　〃It's　not
safe　heah　any　more。　　That　damned　half…breed　Isbel　with　his　gang　are　on
our　trail。〃

That　name　seemed　like　a　red…hot　blade　at　Ellen's　leaden　heart。
She　wanted　to　fling　a　hundred　queries　on　Colter；　but　she　could
not　utter　one。

〃Ellen；　we've　got　to　hit　the　trail　an'　hide；〃　continued　Colter；
anxiously。　　〃Y'u　mustn't　stay　heah　alone。　　Suppose　them　Isbels　would
trap　y'u！　。　。　。　They'd　tear　your　clothes　off　an'　rope　y'u　to　a　tree。
Ellen；　shore　y'u're　goin'。　。　。　。　Y'u　heah　me！　〃

〃YesI'll　go；〃　she　replied；　as　if　forced。

〃Walthat's　good；〃　he　said；　quickly。　　〃An'　rustle　tolerable　lively。
We've　got　to　pack。〃

The　slow　jangle　of　Colter's　spurs　and　his　slow　steps　moved　away　out　of
Ellen's　hearing。　　Throwing　off　the　blankets；　she　put　her　feet　to　the
floor　and　sat　there　a　moment　staring　at　the　blank　nothingness　of　the
cabin　interior　in　the　obscure　gray　of　dawn。　　Cold；　gray；　dreary；
obscurelike　her　life；　her　future！　　And　she　was　compelled　to　do　what
was　hateful　to　her。　　As　a　Jorth　she　must　take　to　the　unfrequented　trails
and　hide　like　a　rabbit　in　the　thickets。　　But　the　interest　of　the　moment；
a　premonition　of　events　to　be；　quickened　her　into　action。

Ellen　unbarred　the　door　to　let　in　the　light。　　Day　was　breaking　with　an
intense；　clear；　steely　light　in　the　east　through　which　the　morning　star
still　shone　white。　　A　ruddy　flare　betokened　the　advent　of　the　sun。
Ellen　unbraided　her　tangled　hair　and　brushed　and　combed　it。　　A　queer；
still　pang　came　to　her　at　sight　of　pine　needles　tangled　in　her　brown
locks。　　Then　she　washed　her　hands　and　face。　　Breakfast　was　a　matter
of　considerable　work　and　s