Off and on through July and a part of August an unwonted animation prevailed at the Cabots’, extending at times along the maples to the other house. Certain visitors of Molly’s were the cause of this gayety, and in their entertainment she found Amos a helpful friend. His horses, his fields, his groves, his fruits, his flowers, and himself, were all at her disposal, absolutely and at any time. A few friends of his own coming at the same period proved a welcome reinforcement, and the leaves of the old maples rustled with a new surprise at the life and laughter, the movement, the color, and the music that enlivened their restful shades. And also at night, during the warm evenings when farmers were abed, the air was awake with melodies which floated off in the summer air, dying away among the voices of the frogs and turtles along the borders of the meadow.
One warm afternoon in August, when there were visitors at neither house, Amos and Molly climbed over a wall into a pasture, for a shorter cut toward home. The pasture was extensive, and their course lay diagonally across a long hill, beyond whose brow they could see nothing. A crimson sunshade and white dress were in dazzling contrast to the dull greens of the pasture, whose prevailing colors were from rocks and withered grass. Patches of wild bushes where the huckleberries were in overwhelming majority necessitated either wide detours or careful navigating among thorns and briars. Her companion seemed indifferent to the painful fact that knickerbockers are no protection against these enemies. But pricks in the leg at the present moment were too trivial for notice. He was speaking with unusual earnestness, keeping close at her side, and now and then looking anxiously into her face. It may have been the heat and the exercise that drove the color to her cheeks, and there were also signs of annoyance as if she desired to escape him; but the ground was uneven, and the stones and bushes rendered haste impossible. She also appeared tired, and when they stopped at intervals always turned away her face, until finally, when half across the field, she sank upon a rock. “I really must rest. I am dreadfully warm.”
He stood beside her, facing in the same direction, both looking over the peaceful valley from which an occasional cow-bell was the only sound.
“It is really a little unfair that my old record should come between us. I was only twenty then, with no end of money and no parents or guardian to look after me. Mr. Judd would let me do whatever I wished, and of course I sailed ahead and did everything. Instead of having an allowance like other fellows I just asked for what I wanted, and always got it. And that is death to a boy.”
He pulled a twig from a bush and began to bite the end of it. If at that instant he had glanced down at the face beside him, he might have detected an expression that was not unjustly severe. There was a distinct ray of sympathy in the eyes that were fixed thoughtfully upon the valley.
“And then all the girls met me more than half-way, as if they, too, had conspired against me.”
This was said in a half-resentful, half-plaintive tone, and so delightfully free from any boastfulness that Molly, to conceal something very near a smile, bent her head and picked nettles from her skirt.
“Of course I liked a good time, there is no denying that, and I struck the wrong gang at college. I suppose I was weak—everlastingly and disgustingly weak; but really you might make allowances, and anyway—”
He stopped abruptly and turned about. Looking up she saw an expression in his eyes, as they gazed at something behind her, that caused her to spring to her feet and also turn about. As she did so the color left her face and her knees gave way beneath her. Instinctively she clutched his arm. Within twenty yards of them stood Barnard’s bull, and in his broad black head and cruel horns, in the distended nostrils and bloodshot eye, she read the fury of an unreasoning brute; and with it her own death and mutilation. Helpless they stood in the open pasture with no tree or refuge near. Amos cast a swift glance to the right, to the left, and behind them. The bull lowered his head just a very little, and as he stepped slowly forward she could hear his breath in impatient puffs. Her brain began to swim and she closed her eyes, but a sharp word and a rough shake brought her back with a start.
“Do just as I tell you. Turn and walk slowly off to the wall at the right. Then climb over. Don’t run till I say so. Give me your parasol.”