e in his blood with the same straw。 Like a vital fire it was left in him at last； a red and white of flame； the two flames forever hostile； and seeking each to burn the other out。 And while it stayed in him thus as a fire； it had also filled all tissues of his being as water fills a spongenot dead water a dead spongebut as a living sap runs through the living sponges of a young oak on the edge of its summer。 So that never should he be able to forget it； never henceforth be the same in knowledge or heart or conscience； and nevermore was the lone spiritual battle of his life； if haply waged at all； to be fought out by him with the earlier； simpler weapons of his innocence and his youth； but with all the might of a tempted man's high faith in the beauty and the right and the divine supremacy of goodness。
One morning his wounds had begun to require attention。 No one had yet come to him： it was hardly the customary hour： and moreover； by rising in bed he could see that something unusual had drawn the people into the streets。 The news of a massacre on the western frontier； perhaps； the arrival of the post…rider with angry despatches from the East； or the torch of revolution thrown far northward from New Orleans。 His face had flushed with feverish waiting and he lay with his eyes turned restlessly toward the door。
It was Mrs。 Falconer who stepped forward to it with hesitation。 But as soon as she caught sight of him； she hurried to the bed。 〃What is the trouble？ Have you been worse？〃
〃Oh； nothing！ It is nothing。〃 〃Why do you say thatto me？〃
〃My shoulder。 But it is hardly time for them to come yet。〃 She hesitated and her face showed how serious her struggle was。 〃Let me；〃 she said firmly。
He looked up quickly； confusedly； at her with a refusal on his lips； but she had already turned away to get the needful things in readiness； and he suffered her； if for no other reason than to avoid letting her see the painful rush of blood to his face。 As she moved about the room； she spoke only to ask unavoidable questions； he； only to answer them； and neither looked at the other。
Then he sat up in the bed and bared his neck and shoulder； one arm and half his chest； and with his face crimson； turned his eyes away。 She had been among the women in the fort during that summer thirteen years before； when the battle of the Blue Licks had been fought； and speaking in the quietest； most natural of voices； she now began to describe how the wounded had straggled in from the battle…field； one rifleman reeling on his horse and held in his seat by the arm of a comrade； his bleeding； bandaged head on that comrade's shoulder； another borne on a litter swung between two horses； others footmenholding out just long enough to come into sight of the fort； there to sink down； one； a mere youth； fallen a mile back in the hot dusty buffalo trace with an unspoken message to some one in his brave； beautiful； darkening eyes。 But before this； she told him how the women had watched all that night and the day previous inside the poor little earth…mound of a defence against artillery； built by order of Jefferson and costing 37。5O； the women taking as always the places of the men who were gone away to the war； becoming as always the defenders of the land； of the children； of those left behind sick or too old to fight。 How from the black edge of dawn they had strained their eyes in the direction of the battle until at last a woman's cry of agony had rent the air as the first of the wounded had ridden slowly into sight。 How they had rushed forth through the wooden gates and heard the tidings of it all and then had followed the scenes and the things that could never be told for pity and grief and love and sadness。
After a little pause she began to speak of Major Falconer as the school…master had never known her to speak； tremulously of his part in that battle； a Revolutionary officer serving as a common backwoods soldier； eloquently of his perfect courage then and always； of his perfect manliness； and she ended by saying that the worst thing that could ever befall a woman was to marry an unmanly man。
〃If any one single thing in life could ever have killed me；〃 she said； 〃it would have been that。〃
With her last words she finished the dressing of his wounds。 Spots of the deepest rose were on her cheeks； her eyes were lighted with proud fire。 Confusedly he thanked her and； lying back on his pillow； closed his eyes and turned his face away。
When she had quickly gone he sat up in the bed again。 He drew the book guiltily from under his pillow； looked long and sorrowfully at it； and then with a low cry of shamethe first that had ever burst from his lipshe hurled it across the room and threw himself violently down again； with his forehead against the logs； his eyes hidden； his face burning。
XIV
THE first day that John felt strong enough to walk as far as that end of the town； he was pulling himself unsteadily past the shop when he saw Peter and turned in to rest and chat。The young blacksmith refused to speak to him。
〃Peter！〃 said John with a sad； shaky voice； holding out his hand； 〃have I changed so much？ Don't you know me？〃
〃Yes； I know you；〃 said Peter。 〃I wish I didn't。〃
〃I don't think I recognize you any more；〃 replied John； after a moment of silence。 〃What's the matter？〃
〃Oh； you get along；〃 said Peter。 〃Clear out！〃
John went inside and drank a gourd of water out of Peter's cool bucket； came back with a stool and sat down squarely before him。
〃Now look here；〃 he said with the candour which was always the first law of nature with him； 〃what have I done to you？〃
Peter would neither look nor speak； but being powerless before kindness； he was beginning to break down。
〃Out with it；〃 said John。 〃What have I done？〃〃You know what you've said。〃
〃What have I said about you？〃 asked John； now perceiving that some mischief had been at work here。 〃Who told you I had said anything about you？〃
〃It's no use for you to deny it。〃
〃Who told you？〃
〃O'Bannon！〃
〃O'Bannon！〃 exclaimed John with a frown。 〃I've never talked to O'Bannon about youabout anything。〃
〃You haven't abused me？〃 said Peter； wheeling on the schoolmaster； eyes and face and voice full of the suffering of his wounded self…love and of his wounded affection。
〃I hope I've abused nobody！〃 said John proudly。
〃Come in here！〃 cried Peter； springing up and hurrying into his shop。
Near the door stood a walnut tree with wide…spreading branches wearing the fresh plumes of late May； plumes that hung down over the door and across the windows； suffusing the interior with a soft twilight of green and brown shadows。 A shaft of sunbeams penetrating a crevice fell on the white neck of a yellow collie that lay on the ground with his head on his paws； his eyes fixed reproachfully on the heels of the horse outside； his ears turned back toward his master。 Beside him a box had been kicked over： tools and shoes scattered。 A faint line of blue smoke sagged from the dying coals of the forge toward the door； creeping across the anvil bright as if tipped with silver。 And in one of the darkest corners of the shop； near a bucket of water in which floated a huge brown gourd； Peter and John sat on a bench while the story of O'Bannon's mischief…making was begun and finished。 It was told by Peter with much cordial rubbing of his elbows in the palms of his hands and much light…hearted smoothing of his apron over his knees。 At times a cloud； passing beneath the sun； threw the shop into heavier shadow； and then the school…master's dark figure faded into the tone of the sooty wall behind him and only his face； with the contrast of its white linen collar below and the bare discernible lights of his auburn hair abovehis face； proud； resolute； astounded； pallid； sufferingstarted out of the gloom like a portrait from an old canvas。
〃And this is why you never came to see me。〃 He had sprung up like a man made well； and was holding Peter's hand and looking reproachfully into his eyes。
〃I'd have seen you dead first；〃 cried Peter gaily； giving him a mighty slap on the shoulder。 〃But wait！ O'Bannon's not the only man who can play a joke！〃
John hurriedly left the shop with a gesture which Peter did not understand。
The web of deceptive circumstances that had been spun about him had been brushed away at last： he saw the whole truth nowsaw his own blindness； blundering； folly； injustice。
He was on his way to Amy already。
When he had started out； he had thought he should walk around a little and then lie down again。 Now with his powerful stride come back to him； he had soon passed the last house of the town and was nearing the edge of the wilderness。 He took the same straight short course of the afternoon on which he had asked Mrs。 Falconer's consent to his suit。 As he hurried on； it seemed to him a long time since then！ What experiences he had undergone！ What had he not suffered！ How he was changed！
〃Yes；〃 he said over and over to himself； putting away all other thoughts in a resolve to think of this nearest duty only。 〃If I've been unkind to her； if I've been wrong； have I not suffered？〃
He had not gone far before his strength began to fail。 He was forced to sit down and rest。 It was near sundown when he reached the clearing。
〃At last！〃 he said gratefully； with his old triumphant habit of carrying out whatever he undertook。 He had put out all his strength to get there。
He passed the nearest fieldthe peach treesthe gardenand took the path toward the house。
〃Where shall I find her？〃 he thought。 〃Where can I see her alone？〃
〃Between him and the house stood a building of logs and plaster。 It was a single room used for the spinning and the weaving of which she had charge。 Many a time he had lain on the great oaken chest into which the homespun cloth was stored while she sat by her spinning…wheel； many a talk they had had there together； many a parting； and many a Saturday twilight he had put his arms around her there and turned away for his lonely walk to town； planning their future。 〃If she should only be in the weaving…room！〃
He stepped softly to the door and looked in。 She was there standing near the middle of the room with her face turned from him。 The work of the day was don