She remembered how he laid her boy in her arms, and
she still saw the deathly pallor in his face as he staggered and
fell. What had he not done for her and her household since he
entered her service? If he loved Jennie, and she him, was it his
fault? Why did she rebel, and refuse this man a place in her
home? Then she thought of her own Tom no longer with her, and of
her fight alone and without him. What would he have thought of
it? How would he have advised her to act? He had always hoped
such great things for Jennie. Would he now be willing to give her
to this stranger? If she could only talk to her Tom about it all!
As she sat, her head in her hand, the smoking stable, the eager
wild-eyed crowd, the dead horses, faded away and became to her as
a dream. She heard nothing but the voice of Jennie and her lover,
saw only the white face of her boy. A sickening sense of utter
loneliness swept over her. She rose and moved away.
During all this time Cully was watching the dying embers, and when
all danger was over,--only the small stable with its two horses
had been destroyed,--he led the Big Gray back to the pump, washed
his head, sponging his eyes and mouth, and housed him in the big
stable. Then he vanished.
Immediately on leaving the Big Gray, Cully had dodged behind the
stable, run rapidly up the hill, keeping close to the fence, and
had come out behind a group of scattering spectators.
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