"I'm going to—take my chance, Dad, out among—folks!"
"You—will—obey—me!" But even as the words were spoken, Martin felt how impotent they were.
"It's good-bye, Dad?"
It was good-bye. Both man and boy realized it. The night closed them in and the protecting trees sheltered them for a moment more.
"You po' little lad! you mean it?"
"Yes, Dad. Will you come?"
Martin turned one glance to where the light from his cabin door shone; then he groaned and said:
"No! God knows they do belong to me and I'm too old, too broken. The curse will get the best of you, boy, and you'll come trailing home. I'll be here—then! But——" And now Martin came closer and held him by the thin, trembling shoulders.
"Grandfather never done it! It was one man's word agin another's and the Hertfords have the luck—they allus had. Onct one of them come back"—and here Morley came closer to Sandy—"it was back in ole Miss Ann Walden's early days—he came back and something happened!" The whisper made Sandy creep with chill.
"What?" he asked, hoarsely.