Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1915-04-02
CHAPTER XIV-Continued.

cove. He was now we'll within South
territory and the need Of masquerade
had ended.
The cabin had not for years been oc-
cupied. It's rooftree was leaning
askew under rotten shingles. Tine
doorstep was ivy-covered, and the
stones Of the hearth were broken. Du'
1t lay well hidden and would serve his
purpose.
Shortly, a candle flickered inside
before a small hand mirror. SCISSORS
and safety razor were for a while
busy. The man who entered in i'm
peccable clothes emerged fifteen min
utes later-transformed. There ap-
peared under the rising June crescent
a smooth faced native. clad In stained
store clothes, with rough woolen SOCKS
showing at his brogan tops, and a
battered felt hat drawn over his race
No one who had known the Samson
South Of four years ago would fall 10
recognize him now. And the strang-
est part, he told himself, was that ne
felt the old Samson. He no longer
doubted his courage. He had come
home, and his conscience was once
more clear.
The mountain roads and the noun
tain sides themselves were sweetly
silent. Moon mist engulfed the flats
in a lake Of dreams, and, as the livery
stable horse halted to pant at the top
Of the final ridge. he could see below
him his destination.
The smaller knobs rose like little
islands out Of the vapor. and yonder'
catching the moonlight like scraps OF
gray paper, were two roofs-that OF
his uncle's house and that of the
Widow Miller.
At a point where a hand bridge
crossed the skirting creek, the boy
dismounted. Ahead Of him lay the
stile where he had said good-by to
Sally. The place was dark, and the
chimney smokeless, but, as he came
nearer, holding the shadows OF the
trees, he saw one silver Of light at the
bottom of a solid shutter; the shutter
of Sally's room. Yet, for while, Sam
son stopped there, looking and max
ing no sound. He stood at his Rubi-
con-and behind him lay all the gilt
ter and culture of that other world,
world that had been good to him.
That was to Samson South one of
those pregnant and portentous mo-
ments with which life sometimes pune
tuates its turning points. At sucn
times all the set and solified strata
that go into the building Of a mans
nature may be uptossed and re-arrang-
ed. So the layers Of a mountain chain
and a continent that have for centu-
ries remained steadfast may break and
alter under the stirring Of earthquake
or volcano, dropping heights under
water and throwing new ranges above
the sea.
There was passing before his eyes
as he stood there, pausing, a pano-
rama much vaster than any he had
been able to conceive when last ne
stood there. He was seeing in review
contracts, and as the pictures Of things
thousands Of miles away rose before
his eyes as clearly as the serted back
bone of the ridges, he was comparing
and settling for all time the actual
values and proportions Of the things
in his life.
He saw the streets of Paris and New
York, brilliant under their strings OF
opalescent lights; the Champs Elysees
ran its smooth, tree-rimmed parquet-
ry from the Place de Concorde to the
Arc de Triomphe, and the chatter and
music Of its cafes rang in his ears
The ivory spaces Of Rome, from the
Pincian hill, where his fancy saw al
mond trees in bloom. to the Piazza
Venezia, spread their eternal story be-
fore his Imagination. He saw buses
and hansoms string through the mud
and fog of London and the endless
pot-pourri Of Manhattan. All the
things that the outside world had to
offer; all that had ever stirred his
pulses to a worship Of the beautiful
the harmonious, the excellent, rose In
exact value. Then he saw again the
sunrise as it would be tomorrow morn
ing over these ragged hills. He saw
the mists rise and grow wisp-like, and
the disk Of the sun gain color, and all
the miracles of cannoning tempest and
caressing palm-and. though he had
come back to fight, wonderful peace
settled over him, for he knew that, II
he must choose these, his native hills
or all the rest. he would forego all the
rest. And Sally-Would she be chang
ed? His heart was hammering wildly
now. Sally had remained loyal. II
was a miracle, but it was the one thing
that counted. He was going to her
and nothing else mattered.
He lifted his head and sent out a
long, clear whippoorwill call, which
quavered on the night much like the
other calls in the black hills around
him. After a moment he went nearer
in the shadow Of a poplar and repeat
ed the call.
Then the cabin door opened. Its
jamb framed a patch of yellow candle
light, and at the center, slender sill
houetted figure, in fluttering. eager
attitude of uncertainty. The figure
turned slightly to one side, and. as II
did so, the man saw clasped in her
right hand the rifle, which had been
his mission, bequeathed to her in trust
She hesitated. and the man, invisible
in the shadow, once more initiated the
bird note, but this time it was so low
and soft that it seemed the voice of q
whispering whippoorwill
Then, with a sudden glad little CRY
she came running with her old fleet
grace down to the road.
Samson had vaulted the stile and
stood in the full moonlight. AS he
saw her coming he stretched out hi:
arms and his voice broke from his
- - Lolf hoorco nacciOnatp