The outer world now held a certain charm which to her had not been known before.
"Not so pleasant as it is here on the mountain side," he replied. "Listen, Nora. In the city you cannot hear the rippling waters as they dance down the rocky pathway over the hill to the stream beyond. You cannot listen to the song of the wild morning bird as he cries out in his great freedom from his lofty perch in yonder tree top; you cannot inhale the pure fresh air as it glides gently over the brushy way; you cannot hear the rustling of the dry leaves as you do here, therefore, it is not so pleasant in the big city."
"Ye gets used to that here," she said.
"You get used to the clanging bells, to the snorting whistles, and to the dusty, smoky atmosphere in the city, too, but there is still a difference. There you see people at all hours of the day and night busily rushing to and fro, this way and that, rushing, pushing, jamming, nothing more."
"I think I would like that for a while," she said.
"No, you wouldn't. Not long. It is not near so pleasant there as it is here, and by your side." He slipped his arm around her waist. She made no effort to disengage it. "It's so ple——"
"What's that?" she said, startled. A rifle shot, followed by a wild yell, broke the peaceful stillness of the mountain air. She leaned her head far over and listened. "That's Al Thompson," she cried. "Let's be a-goin'. When he's that away I don't want to meet him. He's dangerous." She broke from his grasp and stood erect, listening.
"I have no fear of Al Thompson, nor any other man," he said, rising. "Where this arm falls power falls with it. I am monarch of the hill just now."
He was dramatic, and she admired his great physique and brave words.
"Ye don't know Al," she said. "He's been drinkin', an' is not accountable for his actions, so we'd better be a-gittin'."