Bethel rested upon the foot-hills of the Blue Ridge2. Above it the mountains were piled to the sky. Far below it the turbid3 Catawba gleamed yellow along its disconsolate4 valley.
The June day was at its sultriest hour. Bethel dozed5 in the tepid6 shade. Trade was not. It was so still that Goree, reclining in his chair, distinctly heard the clicking of the chips in the grand-jury room, where the "court-house gang" was playing poker8. From the open back door of the office a well-worn path meandered9 across the grassy10 lot to the court-house. The treading out of that path had cost Goree all he ever had—first inheritance of a few thousand dollars, next the old family home, and, latterly the last shreds11 of his self-respect and manhood. The "gang" had cleaned him out. The broken gambler had turned drunkard and parasite12; he had lived to see this day come when the men who had stripped him denied him a seat at the game. His word was no longer to be taken. The daily bouts14 at cards had arranged itself accordingly, and to him was assigned the ignoble15 part of the onlooker16. The sheriff, the county clerk, a sportive deputy, a gay attorney, and a chalk-faced man hailing "from the valley," sat at table, and the sheared17 one was thus tacitly advised to go and grow more wool.
Soon wearying of his ostracism18, Goree had departed for his office, muttering to himself as he unsteadily traversed the unlucky pathway. After a drink of corn whiskey from a demijohn under the table, he had flung himself into the chair, staring, in a sort of maudlin19 apathy20, out at the mountains immersed in the summer haze21. The little white patch he saw away up on the side of Blackjack was Laurel, the village near which he had been born and bred. There, also, was the birthplace of the feud22 between the Gorees and the Coltranes. Now no direct heir of the Gorees survived except this plucked and singed23 bird of misfortune. To the Coltranes, also, but one male supporter was left—Colonel Abner Coltrane, a man of substance and standing24, a member of the State Legislature, and a contemporary with Goree's father. The feud had been a typical one of the region; it had left a red record of hate, wrong and slaughter25.
But Yancey Goree was not thinking of feuds26. His befuddled27 brain was hopelessly attacking the problem of the future maintenance of himself and his favourite follies28. Of late, old friends of the family had seen to it that he had whereof to eat and a place to sleep—but whiskey they would not buy for him, and he must have whiskey. His law business was extinct; no case had been intrusted to him in two years. He had been a borrower and a sponge, and it seemed that if he fell no lower it would be from lack of opportunity. One more chance—he was saying to himself—if he had one more stake at the game, he thought he could win; but he had nothing left to sell, and his credit was more than exhausted29.
He could not help smiling, even in his misery30, as he thought of the man to whom, six months before, he had sold the old Goree homestead. There had come from "back yan'" in the mountains two of the strangest creatures, a man named Pike Garvey and his wife. "Back yan'," with a wave of the hand toward the hills, was understood among the mountaineers to designate the remotest fastnesses, the unplumbed gorges31, the haunts of lawbreakers, the wolf's den13, and the boudoir of the bear. In the cabin far up on Blackjack's shoulder, in the wildest part of these retreats, this odd couple had lived for twenty years. They had neither dog nor children to mitigate32 the heavy silence of the hills. Pike Garvey was little known in the settlements, but all who had dealt with him pronounced him "crazy as a loon33." He acknowledged no occupation save that of a squirrel hunter, but he "moonshined" occasionally by way of diversion. Once the "revenues" had dragged him from his lair35, fighting silently and desperately36 like a terrier, and he had been sent to state's prison for two years. Released, he popped back into his hole like an angry weasel.
Fortune, passing over many anxious wooers, made a freakish flight into Blackjack's bosky pockets to smile upon Pike and his faithful partner.
One day a party of spectacled, knickerbockered, and altogether absurd prospectors37 invaded the vicinity of the Garvey's cabin. Pike lifted his squirrel rifle off the hooks and took a shot at them at long range on the chance of their being revenues. Happily he missed, and the unconscious agents of good luck drew nearer, disclosing their innocence38 of anything resembling law or justice. Later on, they offered the Garveys an enormous quantity of ready, green, crisp money for their thirty-acre patch of cleared land, mentioning, as an excuse for such a mad action, some irrelevant39 and inadequate40 nonsense about a bed of mica41 underlying42 the said property.
When the Garveys became possessed43 of so many dollars that they faltered44 in computing45 them, the deficiencies of life on Blackjack began to grow prominent. Pike began to talk of new shoes, a hogshead of tobacco to set in the corner, a new lock to his rifle; and, leading Martella to a certain spot on the mountain-side, he pointed46 out to her how a small cannon—doubtless a thing not beyond the scope of their fortune in price—might be planted so as to command and defend the sole accessible trail to the cabin, to the confusion of revenues and meddling47 strangers forever.
But Adam reckoned without his Eve. These things represented to him the applied48 power of wealth, but there slumbered49 in his dingy50 cabin an ambition that soared far above his primitive51 wants. Somewhere in Mrs. Garvey's bosom52 still survived a spot of femininity unstarved by twenty years of Blackjack. For so long a time the sounds in her ears had been the scaly-barks dropping in the woods at noon, and the wolves singing among the rocks at night, and it was enough to have purged53 her of vanities. She had grown fat and sad and yellow and dull. But when the means came, she felt a rekindled54 desire to assume the perquisites55 of her sex—to sit at tea tables; to buy futile56 things; to whitewash57 the hideous58 veracity59 of life with a little form and ceremony. So she coldly vetoed Pike's proposed system of fortifications, and announced that they would descend60 upon the world, and gyrate socially.
And thus, at length, it was decided61, and the thing done. The village of Laurel was their compromise between Mrs. Garvey's preference for one of the large valley towns and Pike's hankering for primeval solitudes62. Laurel yielded a halting round of feeble social distractions63 comportable with Martella's ambitions, and was not entirely64 without recommendation to Pike, its contiguity65 to the mountains presenting advantages for sudden retreat in case fashionable society should make it advisable.
Their descent upon Laurel had been coincident with Yancey Goree's feverish66 desire to convert property into cash, and they bought the old Goree homestead, paying four thousand dollars ready money into the spendthrift's shaking hands.
Thus it happened that while the disreputable last of the Gorees sprawled in his disreputable office, at the end of his row, spurned67 by the cronies whom he had gorged68, strangers dwelt in the halls of his fathers.
A cloud of dust was rolling, slowly up the parched69 street, with something travelling in the midst of it. A little breeze wafted70 the cloud to one side, and a new, brightly painted carryall, drawn71 by a slothful gray horse, became visible. The vehicle deflected72 from the middle of the street as it neared Goree's office, and stopped in the gutter73 directly in front of his door.
On the front seat sat a gaunt, tall man, dressed in black broadcloth, his rigid74 hands incarcerated75 in yellow kid gloves. On the back seat was a lady who triumphed over the June heat. Her stout76 form was armoured in a skin-tight silk dress of the description known as "changeable," being a gorgeous combination of shifting hues78. She sat erect79, waving a much-ornamented fan, with her eyes fixed80 stonily81 far down the street. However Martella Garvey's heart might be rejoicing at the pleasures of her new life, Blackjack had done his work with her exterior82. He had carved her countenance83 to the image of emptiness and inanity84; had imbued85 her with the stolidity86 of his crags, and the reserve of his hushed interiors. She always seemed to hear, whatever her surroundings were, the scaly-barks falling and pattering down the mountain-side. She could always hear the awful silence of Blackjack sounding through the stillest of nights.
Goree watched this solemn equipage, as it drove to his door, with only faint interest; but when the lank87 driver wrapped the reins88 about his whip, awkwardly descended89, and stepped into the office, he rose unsteadily to receive him, recognizing Pike Garvey, the new, the transformed, the recently civilized90.
The mountaineer took the chair Goree offered him. They who cast doubts upon Garvey's soundness of mind had a strong witness in the man's countenance. His face was too long, a dull saffron in hue77, and immobile as a statue's. Pale-blue, unwinking round eyes without lashes92 added to the singularity of his gruesome visage. Goree was at a loss to account for the visit.
"Everything all right at Laurel, Mr. Garvey?" he inquired.
"Everything all right, sir, and mighty93 pleased is Missis Garvey and me with the property. Missis Garvey likes yo' old place, and she likes the neighbourhood. Society is what she 'lows she wants, and she is gettin' of it. The Rogerses, the Hapgoods, the Pratts and the Troys hev been to see Missis Garvey, and she hev et meals to most of thar houses. The best folks hev axed her to differ'nt kinds of doin's. I cyan't say, Mr. Goree, that sech things suits me—fur me, give me them thar." Garvey's huge, yellow-gloved hand flourished in the direction of the mountains. "That's whar I b'long, 'mongst the wild honey bees and the b'ars. But that ain't what I come fur to say, Mr. Goree. Thar's somethin' you got what me and Missis Garvey wants to buy."
"Buy!" echoed Goree. "From me?" Then he laughed harshly. "I reckon you are mistaken about that. I reckon you are mistaken about that. I sold out to you, as you yourself expressed it, 'lock, stock and barrel.' There isn't even a ramrod left to sell."
"You've got it; and we 'uns want it. 'Take the money,' says Missis Garvey, 'and buy it fa'r and squar'.'"
Goree shook his head. "The cupboard's bare," he said.
"We've riz," pursued the mountaineer, undeflected from his object, "a heap. We was pore as possums, and now we could hev folks to dinner every day. We been recognized, Missis Garvey says, by the best society. But there's somethin' we need we ain't got. She says it ought to been put in the 'ventory ov the sale, but it tain't thar. 'Take the money, then,' says she, 'and buy it fa'r and squar'."'
"Out with it," said Goree, his racked nerves growing impatient.
Garvey threw his slouch hat upon the table, and leaned forward, fixing his unblinking eyes upon Goree's.
"There's a old feud," he said distinctly and slowly, "'tween you 'uns and the Coltranes."
Goree frowned ominously94. To speak of his feud to a feudist is a serious breach95 of the mountain etiquette96. The man from "back yan'" knew it as well as the lawyer did.
"Na offense," he went on "but purely97 in the way of business. Missis Garvey hev studied all about feuds. Most of the quality folks in the mountains hev 'em. The Settles and the Goforths, the Rankins and the Boyds, the Silers and the Galloways, hev all been cyarin' on feuds f'om twenty to a hundred year. The last man to drap was when yo' uncle, Jedge Paisley Goree, 'journed co't and shot Len Coltrane f'om the bench. Missis Garvey and me, we come f'om the po' white trash. Nobody wouldn't pick a feud with we 'uns, no mo'n with a fam'ly of tree-toads. Quality people everywhar, says Missis Garvey, has feuds. We 'uns ain't quality, but we're buyin' into it as fur as we can. 'Take the money, then,' says Missis Garvey, 'and buy Mr. Goree's feud, fa'r and squar'.'"
The squirrel hunter straightened a leg half across the room, drew a roll of bills from his pocket, and threw them on the table.
"Thar's two hundred dollars, Mr. Goree; what you would call a fa'r price for a feud that's been 'lowed to run down like yourn hev. Thar's only you left to cyar' on yo' side of it, and you'd make mighty po' killin'. I'll take it off yo' hands, and it'll set me and Missis Garvey up among the quality. Thar's the money."
The little roll of currency on the table slowly untwisted itself, writhing98 and jumping as its folds relaxed. In the silence that followed Garvey's last speech the rattling99 of the poker chips in the court-house could be plainly heard. Goree knew that the sheriff had just won a pot, for the subdued100 whoop101 with which he always greeted a victory floated across the square upon the crinkly heat waves. Beads102 of moisture stood on Goree's brow. Stooping, he drew the wicker-covered demijohn from under the table, and filled a tumbler from it.
"A little corn liquor, Mr. Garvey? Of course you are joking about—what you spoke103 of? Opens quite a new market, doesn't it? Feuds. Prime, two-fifty to three. Feuds, slightly damaged—two hundred, I believe you said, Mr. Garvey?"
Goree laughed self-consciously.
The mountaineer took the glass Goree handed him, and drank the whisky without a tremor104 of the lids of his staring eyes. The lawyer applauded the feat105 by a look of envious106 admiration107. He poured his own drink, and took it like a drunkard, by gulps108, and with shudders109 at the smell and taste.
"Two hundred," repeated Garvey. "Thar's the money."
A sudden passion flared110 up in Goree's brain. He struck the table with his fist. One of the bills flipped111 over and touched his hand. He flinched112 as if something had stung him.
"Do you come to me," he shouted, "seriously with such a ridiculous, insulting, darned-fool proposition?"
"It's fa'r and squar'," said the squirrel hunter, but he reached out his hand as if to take back the money; and then Goree knew that his own flurry of rage had not been from pride or resentment113, but from anger at himself, knowing that he would set foot in the deeper depths that were being opened to him. He turned in an instant from an outraged114 gentleman to an anxious chafferer recommending his goods.
"Don't be in a hurry, Garvey," he said, his face crimson115 and his speech thick. "I accept your p-p-proposition, though it's dirt cheap at two hundred. A t-trade's all right when both p-purchaser and b-buyer are s-satisfied. Shall I w-wrap it up for you, Mr. Garvey?"
Garvey rose, and shook out his broadcloth. "Missis Garvey will be pleased. You air out of it, and it stands Coltrane and Garvey. Just a scrap116 ov writin', Mr. Goree, you bein' a lawyer, to show we traded."
Goree seized a sheet of paper and a pen. The money was clutched in his moist hand. Everything else suddenly seemed to grow trivial and light.
"Bill of sale, by all means. 'Right, title, and interest in and to' . . . 'forever warrant and—' No, Garvey, we'll have to leave out that 'defend,'" said Goree with a loud laugh. "You'll have to defend this title yourself."
The mountaineer received the amazing screed117 that the lawyer handed him, folded it with immense labour, and laced it carefully in his pocket.
Goree was standing near the window. "Step here," he said, raising his finger, "and I'll show you your recently purchased enemy. There he goes, down the other side of the street."
The mountaineer crooked118 his long frame to look through the window in the direction indicated by the other. Colonel Abner Coltrane, an erect, portly gentleman of about fifty, wearing the inevitable119 long, double-breasted frock coat of the Southern lawmaker, and an old high silk hat, was passing on the opposite sidewalk. As Garvey looked, Goree glanced at his face. If there be such a thing as a yellow wolf, here was its counterpart. Garvey snarled120 as his unhuman eyes followed the moving figure, disclosing long, amber-coloured fangs121.
"Is that him? Why, that's the man who sent me to the pen'tentiary once!"
"He used to be district attorney," said Goree carelessly. "And, by the way, he's a first-class shot."
"I kin7 hit a squirrel's eye at a hundred yard," said Garvey. "So that thar's Coltrane! I made a better trade than I was thinkin'. I'll take keer ov this feud, Mr. Goree, better'n you ever did!"
He moved toward the door, but lingered there, betraying a slight perplexity.
"Anything else to-day?" inquired Goree with frothy sarcasm122. "Any family traditions, ancestral ghosts, or skeletons in the closet? Prices as low as the lowest."
"Thar was another thing," replied the unmoved squirrel hunter, "that Missis Garvey was thinkin' of. 'Tain't so much in my line as t'other, but she wanted partic'lar that I should inquire, and ef you was willin', 'pay fur it,' she says, 'fa'r and squar'.' Thar's a buryin' groun', as you know, Mr. Goree, in the yard of yo' old place, under the cedars123. Them that lies thar is yo' folks what was killed by the Coltranes. The monyments has the names on 'em. Missis Garvey says a fam'ly buryin' groun' is a sho' sign of quality. She says ef we git the feud, thar's somethin' else ought to go with it. The names on them monyments is 'Goree,' but they can be changed to ourn by—"
"Go! Go!" screamed Goree, his face turning purple. He stretched out both hands toward the mountaineer, his fingers hooked and shaking. "Go, you ghoul! Even a Ch-Chinaman protects the g-graves of his ancestors—go!"
The squirrel hunter slouched out of the door to his carryall. While he was climbing over the wheel Goree was collecting, with feverish celerity, the money that had fallen from his hand to the floor. As the vehicle slowly turned about, the sheep, with a coat of newly grown wool, was hurrying, in indecent haste, along the path to the court-house.
At three o'clock in the morning they brought him back to his office, shorn and unconscious. The sheriff, the sportive deputy, the county clerk, and the gay attorney carried him, the chalk-faced man "from the valley" acting124 as escort.
"On the table," said one of them, and they deposited him there among the litter of his unprofitable books and papers.
"Yance thinks a lot of a pair of deuces when he's liquored up," sighed the sheriff reflectively.
"Too much," said the gay attorney. "A man has no business to play poker who drinks as much as he does. I wonder how much he dropped to-night."
"Close to two hundred. What I wonder is whar he got it. Yance ain't had a cent fur over a month, I know."
"Struck a client, maybe. Well, let's get home before daylight. He'll be all right when he wakes up, except for a sort of beehive about the cranium."
The gang slipped away through the early morning twilight125. The next eye to gaze upon the miserable126 Goree was the orb127 of day. He peered through the uncurtained window, first deluging128 the sleeper129 in a flood of faint gold, but soon pouring upon the mottled red of his flesh a searching, white, summer heat. Goree stirred, half unconsciously, among the table's débris, and turned his face from the window. His movement dislodged a heavy law book, which crashed upon the floor. Opening his eyes, he saw, bending over him, a man in a black frock coat. Looking higher, he discovered a well-worn silk hat, and beneath it the kindly130, smooth face of Colonel Abner Coltrane.
A little uncertain of the outcome, the colonel waited for the other to make some sign of recognition. Not in twenty years had male members of these two families faced each other in peace. Goree's eyelids131 puckered132 as he strained his blurred133 sight toward this visitor, and then he smiled serenely134.
"Have you brought Stella and Lucy over to play?" he said calmly.
"Do you know me, Yancey?" asked Coltrane.
"Of course I do. You brought me a whip with a whistle in the end."
So he had—twenty-four years ago; when Yancey's father was his best friend.
Goree's eyes wandered about the room. The colonel understood. "Lie still, and I'll bring you some," said he. There was a pump in the yard at the rear, and Goree closed his eyes, listening with rapture135 to the click of its handle, and the bubbling of the falling stream. Coltrane brought a pitcher136 of the cool water, and held it for him to drink. Presently Goree sat up—a most forlorn object, his summer suit of flax soiled and crumpled137, his discreditable head tousled and unsteady. He tried to wave one of his hands toward the colonel.
"Ex-excuse—everything, will you?" he said. "I must have drunk too much whiskey last night, and gone to bed on the table." His brows knitted into a puzzled frown.
"Out with the boys awhile?" asked Coltrane kindly.
"No, I went nowhere. I haven't had a dollar to spend in the last two months. Struck the demijohn too often, I reckon, as usual."
Colonel Coltrane touched him on the shoulder.
"A little while ago, Yancey," he began, "you asked me if I had brought Stella and Lucy over to play. You weren't quite awake then, and must have been dreaming you were a boy again. You are awake now, and I want you to listen to me. I have come from Stella and Lucy to their old playmate, and to my old friend's son. They know that I am going to bring you home with me, and you will find them as ready with a welcome as they were in the old days. I want you to come to my house and stay until you are yourself again, and as much longer as you will. We heard of your being down in the world, and in the midst of temptation, and we agreed that you should come over and play at our house once more. Will you come, my boy? Will you drop our old family trouble and come with me?"
"Trouble!" said Goree, opening his eyes wide. "There was never any trouble between us that I know of. I'm sure we've always been the best friends. But, good Lord, Colonel, how could I go to your home as I am—a drunken wretch138, a miserable, degraded spendthrift and gambler—"
He lurched from the table into his armchair, and began to weep maudlin tears, mingled139 with genuine drops of remorse140 and shame. Coltrane talked to him persistently141 and reasonably, reminding him of the simple mountain pleasures of which he had once been so fond, and insisting upon the genuineness of the invitation.
Finally he landed Goree by telling him he was counting upon his help in the engineering and transportation of a large amount of felled timber from a high mountain-side to a waterway. He knew that Goree had once invented a device for this purpose—a series of slides and chutes upon which he had justly prided himself. In an instant the poor fellow, delighted at the idea of his being of use to any one, had paper spread upon the table, and was drawing rapid but pitifully shaky lines in demonstration142 of what he could and would do.
The man was sickened of the husks; his prodigal143 heart was turning again toward the mountains. His mind was yet strangely clogged144, and his thoughts and memories were returning to his brain one by one, like carrier pigeons over a stormy sea. But Coltrane was satisfied with the progress he had made.
Bethel received the surprise of its existence that afternoon when a Coltrane and a Goree rode amicably145 together through the town. Side by side they rode, out from the dusty streets and gaping146 townspeople, down across the creek147 bridge, and up toward the mountain. The prodigal had brushed and washed and combed himself to a more decent figure, but he was unsteady in the saddle, and he seemed to be deep in the contemplation of some vexing148 problem. Coltrane left him in his mood, relying upon the influence of changed surroundings to restore his equilibrium149.
Once Goree was seized with a shaking fit, and almost came to a collapse150. He had to dismount and rest at the side of the road. The colonel, foreseeing such a condition, had provided a small flask151 of whisky for the journey but when it was offered to him Goree refused it almost with violence, declaring he would never touch it again. By and by he was recovered, and went quietly enough for a mile or two. Then he pulled up his horse suddenly, and said:
"I lost two hundred dollars last night, playing poker. Now, where did I get that money?"
"Take it easy, Yancey. The mountain air will soon clear it up. We'll go fishing, first thing, at the Pinnacle152 Falls. The trout153 are jumping there like bullfrogs. We'll take Stella and Lucy along, and have a picnic on Eagle Rock. Have you forgotten how a hickory-cured-ham sandwich tastes, Yancey, to a hungry fisherman?"
Evidently the colonel did not believe the story of his lost wealth; so Goree retired154 again into brooding silence.
By late Afternoon they had travelled ten of the twelve miles between Bethel and Laurel. Half a mile this side of Laurel lay the old Goree place; a mile or two beyond the village lived the Coltranes. The road was now steep and laborious155, but the compensations were many. The tilted156 aisles157 of the forest were opulent with leaf and bird and bloom. The tonic158 air put to shame the pharmacopæia. The glades159 were dark with mossy shade, and bright with shy rivulets160 winking91 from the ferns and laurels161. On the lower side they viewed, framed in the near foliage162, exquisite163 sketches164 of the far valley swooning in its opal haze.
Coltrane was pleased to see that his companion was yielding to the spell of the hills and woods. For now they had but to skirt the base of Painter's Cliff; to cross Elder Branch and mount the hill beyond, and Goree would have to face the squandered165 home of his fathers. Every rock he passed, every tree, every foot of the rocky way, was familiar to him. Though he had forgotten the woods, they thrilled him like the music of "Home, Sweet Home."
They rounded the cliff, descended into Elder Branch, and paused there to let the horses drink and splash in the swift water. On the right was a rail fence that cornered there, and followed the road and stream. Inclosed by it was the old apple orchard166 of the home place; the house was yet concealed167 by the brow of the steep hill. Inside and along the fence, pokeberries, elders, sassafras, and sumac grew high and dense168. At a rustle169 of their branches, both Goree and Coltrane glanced up, and saw a long, yellow, wolfish face above the fence, staring at them with pale, unwinking eyes. The head quickly disappeared; there was a violent swaying of the bushes, and an ungainly figure ran up through the apple orchard in the direction of the house, zig-zagging among the trees.
"That's Garvey," said Coltrane; "the man you sold out to. There's no doubt but he's considerably170 cracked. I had to send him up for moonshining once, several years ago, in spite of the fact that I believed him irresponsible. Why, what's the matter, Yancey?"
Goree was wiping his forehead, and his face had lost its colour. "Do I look queer, too?" he asked, trying to smile. "I'm just remembering a few more things." Some of the alcohol had evaporated from his brain. "I recollect171 now where I got that two hundred dollars."
"Don't think of it," said Coltrane cheerfully. "Later on we'll figure it all out together."
They rode out of the branch, and when they reached the foot of the hill Goree stopped again.
"Did you ever suspect I was a very vain kind of fellow, Colonel?" he asked. "Sort of foolish proud about appearances?"
The colonel's eyes refused to wander to the soiled, sagging172 suit of flax and the faded slouch hat.
"It seems to me," he replied, mystified, but humouring him, "I remember a young buck173 about twenty, with the tightest coat, the sleekest174 hair, and the prancingest saddle horse in the Blue Ridge."
"Right you are," said Goree eagerly. "And it's in me yet, though it don't show. Oh, I'm as vain as a turkey gobbler, and as proud as Lucifer. I'm going to ask you to indulge this weakness of mine in a little matter."
"Speak out, Yancey. We'll create you Duke of Laurel and Baron175 of Blue Ridge, if you choose; and you shall have a feather out of Stella's peacock's tail to wear in your hat."
"I'm in earnest. In a few minutes we'll pass the house up there on the hill where I was born, and where my people have lived for nearly a century. Strangers live there now—and look at me! I am about to show myself to them ragged34 and poverty-stricken, a wastrel176 and a beggar. Colonel Coltrane, I'm ashamed to do it. I want you to let me wear your coat and hat until we are out of sight beyond. I know you think it a foolish pride, but I want to make as good a showing as I can when I pass the old place."
"Now, what does this mean?" said Coltrane to himself, as he compared his companion's sane177 looks and quiet demeanour with his strange request. But he was already unbuttoning the coat, assenting178 readily, as if the fancy were in no wise to be considered strange.
The coat and hat fitted Goree well. He buttoned the former about him with a look of satisfaction and dignity. He and Coltrane were nearly the same size—rather tall, portly, and erect. Twenty-five years were between them, but in appearance they might have been brothers. Goree looked older than his age; his face was puffy and lined; the colonel had the smooth, fresh complexion180 of a temperate181 liver. He put on Goree's disreputable old flax coat and faded slouch hat.
"Now," said Goree, taking up the reins, "I'm all right. I want you to ride about ten feet in the rear as we go by, Colonel, so that they can get a good look at me. They'll see I'm no back number yet, by any means. I guess I'll show up pretty well to them once more, anyhow. Let's ride on."
Goree sat straight in the saddle, with head erect, but his eyes were turned to the right, sharply scanning every shrub183 and fence and hiding-place in the old homestead yard. Once he muttered to himself, "Will the crazy fool try it, or did I dream half of it?"
It was when he came opposite the little family burying ground that he saw what he had been looking for—a puff179 of white smoke, coming from the thick cedars in one corner. He toppled so slowly to the left that Coltrane had time to urge his horse to that side, and catch him with one arm.
The squirrel hunter had not overpraised his aim. He had sent the bullet where he intended, and where Goree had expected that it would pass—through the breast of Colonel Abner Coltrane's black frock coat.
Goree leaned heavily against Coltrane, but he did not fall. The horses kept pace, side by side, and the Colonel's arm kept him steady. The little white houses of Laurel shone through the trees, half a mile away. Goree reached out one hand and groped until it rested upon Coltrane's fingers, which held his bridle184.
"Good friend," he said, and that was all.
Thus did Yancey Goree, as he rode past his old home, make, considering all things, the best showing that was in his power.
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sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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3
turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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4
disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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5
dozed
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| v.打盹儿，打瞌睡( doze的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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7
kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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8
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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9
meandered
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| （指溪流、河流等）蜿蜒而流( meander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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11
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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12
parasite
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| n.寄生虫；寄生菌；食客 | |
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13
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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14
bouts
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| n.拳击（或摔跤）比赛( bout的名词复数 )；一段（工作）；（尤指坏事的）一通；（疾病的）发作 | |
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15
ignoble
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| adj.不光彩的，卑鄙的；可耻的 | |
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16
onlooker
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| n.旁观者，观众 | |
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17
sheared
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| v.剪羊毛( shear的过去式和过去分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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18
ostracism
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| n.放逐；排斥 | |
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19
maudlin
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| adj.感情脆弱的，爱哭的 | |
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20
apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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21
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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22
feud
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| n.长期不和；世仇；v.长期争斗；世代结仇 | |
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23
singed
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| v.浅表烧焦( singe的过去式和过去分词 )；（毛发）燎，烧焦尖端[边儿] | |
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24
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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25
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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26
feuds
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| n.长期不和，世仇( feud的名词复数 ) | |
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27
befuddled
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| adj.迷糊的，糊涂的v.使烂醉( befuddle的过去式和过去分词 )；使迷惑不解 | |
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28
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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29
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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30
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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31
gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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32
mitigate
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| vt.（使）减轻，（使）缓和 | |
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33
loon
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| n.狂人 | |
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34
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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35
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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36
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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37
prospectors
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| n.勘探者，探矿者( prospector的名词复数 ) | |
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38
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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39
irrelevant
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| adj.不恰当的，无关系的，不相干的 | |
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40
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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41
mica
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| n.云母 | |
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42
underlying
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| adj.在下面的，含蓄的，潜在的 | |
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43
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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44
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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45
computing
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| n.计算 | |
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46
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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47
meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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48
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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49
slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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50
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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51
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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52
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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53
purged
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| 清除（政敌等）( purge的过去式和过去分词 )； 涤除（罪恶等）； 净化（心灵、风气等）； 消除（错事等）的不良影响 | |
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54
rekindled
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| v.使再燃( rekindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
perquisites
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| n.（工资以外的）财务补贴( perquisite的名词复数 )；额外收入；（随职位而得到的）好处；利益 | |
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56
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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57
whitewash
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| v.粉刷，掩饰；n.石灰水，粉刷，掩饰 | |
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58
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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59
veracity
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| n.诚实 | |
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60
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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61
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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62
solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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63
distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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64
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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65
contiguity
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| n.邻近，接壤 | |
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66
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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67
spurned
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
gorged
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
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69
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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70
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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72
deflected
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| 偏离的 | |
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73
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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74
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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75
incarcerated
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| 钳闭的 | |
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77
hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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78
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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79
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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80
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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81
stonily
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| 石头地，冷酷地 | |
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82
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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83
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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84
inanity
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| n.无意义，无聊 | |
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85
imbued
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| v.使（某人/某事）充满或激起（感情等）( imbue的过去式和过去分词 )；使充满；灌输；激发（强烈感情或品质等） | |
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86
stolidity
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|
| n.迟钝，感觉麻木 | |
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87
lank
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| adj.瘦削的；稀疏的 | |
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88
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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89
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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90
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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91
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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92
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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93
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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94
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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95
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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96
etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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97
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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98
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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99
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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100
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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101
whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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102
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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103
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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104
tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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105
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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106
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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107
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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108
gulps
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| n.一大口（尤指液体）( gulp的名词复数 )v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的第三人称单数 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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109
shudders
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| n.颤动，打颤，战栗( shudder的名词复数 )v.战栗( shudder的第三人称单数 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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110
Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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111
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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112
flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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113
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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114
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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115
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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116
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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117
screed
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| n.长篇大论 | |
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118
crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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119
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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120
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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121
fangs
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| n.（尤指狗和狼的）长而尖的牙( fang的名词复数 )；（蛇的）毒牙；罐座 | |
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122
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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123
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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124
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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125
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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126
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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127
orb
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| n.太阳；星球；v.弄圆；成球形 | |
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128
deluging
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| v.使淹没( deluge的现在分词 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
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129
sleeper
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| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
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130
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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131
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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132
puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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133
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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134
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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135
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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136
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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137
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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138
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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139
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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140
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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141
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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142
demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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143
prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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144
clogged
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| （使）阻碍( clog的过去式和过去分词 )； 淤滞 | |
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145
amicably
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| adv.友善地 | |
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146
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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147
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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148
vexing
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| adj.使人烦恼的，使人恼火的v.使烦恼( vex的现在分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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149
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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150
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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151
flask
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| n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱 | |
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152
pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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153
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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154
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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155
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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156
tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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157
aisles
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| n. (席位间的)通道, 侧廊 | |
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158
tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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159
glades
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| n.林中空地( glade的名词复数 ) | |
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160
rivulets
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| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
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161
laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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162
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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163
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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164
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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165
squandered
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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166
orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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167
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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168
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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169
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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170
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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171
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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172
sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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173
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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174
sleekest
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| 时髦的( sleek的最高级 )； 光滑而有光泽的； 保养得很好的； 线条流畅的 | |
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175
baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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176
wastrel
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| n.浪费者；废物 | |
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177
sane
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| adj.心智健全的，神志清醒的，明智的，稳健的 | |
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178
assenting
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| 同意，赞成( assent的现在分词 ) | |
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179
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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180
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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181
temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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182
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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183
shrub
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| n.灌木，灌木丛 | |
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184
bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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