"My precious one," said the preacher, "your words are those of her who lives very near the heart of God. The finest thing in the world is sacrifice and suffering for the benefit of others. But you must put far away the idea of being a constant invalid. Gradually you are regaining your health, and before long we shall see you as lively and jolly as ever. By Christmas time I want to behold roses in your cheeks, and see you skip about like a roe upon the mountains. Keep up a brave, trustful spirit, and I believe all will be well."
He kissed his betrothed tenderly, stroked her beautiful hair, and retired from the room.
A Battle With Moonshiners.
Sam Wiles and Zibe Turner, the monster dwarf, were not captured by the sheriff and his men. For a number of days after the wounding of Viola LeMonde the officers and others kept a sharp watch on the cabins of both outlaws, and tried to find them in some of the fastnesses of the hills. But the bandits were too cunning for them. They seldom dared to enter their homes, but spent most of their time in the open or in the shelter of the cave where the illicit whisky was made. Some of their confederates were usually near them, ready to give them warning of any officer's approach.
At last the climax came. It was a hot evening in mid-August. Judge LeMonde was sitting under the pine trees, attempting to catch any breeze which might blow from the river when, looking down the road leading to the big gate, he saw a woman approaching.
It was Jemima Sneath, and she was evidently laboring under great excitement. Her eyes were deep sunken and glowed like coals of fire. They showed what was in her heart—jealousy, hate, anger, recklessness, courage, determination. Her thick black hair was loosely put together, stray locks falling here and there about her face and neck.
"Jedge LeMonde," she said, "I am Jemima Sneath, and I live back in de hills. I hev somethin' I wish to tell you. Can I see you by yerself?"
"Certainly, my good woman," replied the Judge, "let me lead you into my private office."