Breeze wondered who Israel was and who kept him, but he durst not ask.
One day Uncle Bill stumbled on this verse: “As a man chasteneth his son, so the Lord thy God chasteneth thee.” The words were scarcely spoken before April put up a hand.
“Don’ read dat one, Uncle. E’s done me too bad. E ain’ treat me fair. Looks like E ought to let up on me. E done suffer me so long——”
April turned his face toward the window to hide the tears that poured out of his eyes, and there was Sherry in full view, riding the sorrel colt and holding Joy’s baby in his arms!
April’s face went a ghastly gray, his moist features shriveled. Tremors shook the muscles in his jaws, but he said nothing.
Uncle Bill stroked out the fingers of one long, blue-nailed hand, but they curled back into the palm as soon as they were released.
“You must be gittin’ a chill, April.” Uncle Bill’s eyes were full of fear. “How ’bout a mustard plaster on you’ back?”
“Nemmine, Uncle. Nemmine,” April chattered.
As the dusk fell Zeda came to inquire about April, but she found him shaking as with ague. He said he was cold through and through and his insides felt wrung and twisted. The very heart in his breast ached sorely.
Zeda said if April had a chill Joy had better give him some red-pepper tea. She’d go home and make some tea out of her own red pepper. Her pepper was strong, hot, she had gathered it at noon on a sunshiny day.