"
She reached out her hand. I felt her fingers close cold and hard on
mine, as though loth to let me go. I kissed her fingers and withdrew,
myself at least very glad to be away.
I retired presently to my room to arrange my portmanteaus for an early
journey. And there, filling up one-half of the greater valise, was a
roll of hide, ragged about its edge. I drew it out, and spread it flat
upon the bed before me, whitened and roughened with bone, reddened with
blood, written on with rude stylus, bearing certain words which all the
time, day and night, rang, yes, and sang, in my brain.
"_I, John Cowles--I, Ellen Meriwether--take thee, for better, for
worse--till death--_" I saw her name, _E-l-l-e-n._
CHAPTER XLI
ELLEN OR GRACE
Presently once more I departed. My mother also ended her visit at
Dixiana, preferring to return to the quiet of her two little whitewashed
rooms, and the old fireplace, and the sooty pot-hooks which our people's
slaves had used for two generations in the past.
As to what I learned at Huntington, which place I reached after some
days of travel, I need say no more than that I began to see fully
verified my father's daring and his foresight.
Pages:
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361