“I reckon I’m wearying you with my troubles?” Greyson spoke apologetically.
“No, no. Go on. This interests me very much.”
“Well, sir, Burke Lawson and Jed Martin came on each other in the deep woods the night of the big storm and Burke and Jed had words and a scene. Jed owned up to that. It was life and death and I ain’t blaming any one and I have one thing to thank Burke for—he might have done different and left a stain on a lady’s name, sir! He told Jed how he had seen Nella-Rose and how she had scorned him for being a coward, but how she would take her words back if he dared come out and show his head. And he ’lowed he was going to come out then and there, which he did, and he and Nella-Rose was going off to Cataract Falls where the Lawsons hailed from, on the mother’s side.”
“But—how do you know that your daughter kept her word? This Lawson may have been obliged to make away with himself—alone.” Truedale grew more daring. He saw that Greyson, absorbed by his trouble, was less on guard. But Greyson was keenly observant.
“He’s heard the gossip,” thought the old man, “it’s ringing through the hills. Well, a dog as can fetch a bone can carry one!” With that conclusion reached, Peter made his master stroke.
“I’ve heard from her,” he half whispered.
“Heard from her?” gasped Truedale, and even then Greyson seemed unaware of the attitude of the stranger. “How—did you hear from her?”
“She wrote and sent the letter long of—of Bill Trim, a half-wit—but trusty. Nella-Rose went with Lawson—she ’lowed she had to. He came on her in the woods and held her to her word. She said as how she wanted to—to come home, but Lawson set forth as how an hour might mean his life—and put it up to lil’ Nella-Rose! He—he swore as how he’d shoot himself if she didn’t go with him—and it was like Burke to do it. He was always crazy mad for Nella-Rose, and there ain’t anything he wouldn’t do when he got balked. She—she had ter go—or see Lawson kill himself; so she went—but asked my pardon fo’ causing the deep trouble. Lawson married her at the first stopping place over the ridge. He ain’t worthy o’ my lil’ Nella-Rose—but us-all has got to make the best o’ it. Come spring—she’ll be back, and then—I’ll forgive her—my lil’ Nella-Rose!”
From the intensity of his emotions Greyson trembled and the weak tears ran down his lined face. Taking advantage of the tense moment Truedale asked desperately:
“Will you show me that letter, Mr. Greyson?”