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Then she looked again at Jethro and gave him a smile. One of superiority, no doubt, but still a smile. "How do you do, sir?" "T-trying to buy a silk cloth gown for a woman. There's two over here I fancied a little. Er thought perhaps you'd help me." "Where are the dresses?" she demanded abruptly. Jethro led the way in silence until they came to the models.
Jethro, though a child of the desert, was the chief of a tribe or at least of a family, a man used to command, and to administer the nomad law; for Jethro was the head of the Kenites, who were akin to the Amalekites, with whom the Israelites were destined to wage mortal war.
There was a young man in Boston, when Jethro arrived in Lyman Hull's team, named William Wetherell. By extraordinary circumstances he and another connected with him are to take no small part in this story, which is a sufficient excuse for his introduction.
It was a world of unbridled will, this, where the soul of Jethro Fawe had its origin; and to it his senses fled involuntarily when he put Sarasate's fiddle to his chin this Autumn evening.
Worthington found himself whatever it was must be a very desperate one. He half rose in his chair, sat down again, and lighted another match. "Er director in the Truro Road, hain't you, Mr. Worthington?" asked Jethro, without looking at him. "Yes." "Er principal stockholder ain't you?" "Yes but that is neither here nor there, sir." "Road don't pay r-road don't pay, does it?"
The artist had his reward, for when the picture was hung at length in the little parlor of the tannery house it became a source of pride to Coniston second only to Jethro himself.
But she would have got down on her knees on the board floor of the kitchen that very night and implored Jethro to desist from that contest, if she could. She remembered how, in her innocence, she had believed that the people had given Jethro his power, in those days when she was so proud of that very power, now she knew that he had wrested it from them.
There it was, tarnished with age, but with that memorable inscription still legible, "Cynthy, from Jethro"; not Cynthia, but Cynthy. How the years fell away as he read it! He handed it in silence to the storekeeper, and in silence went to the window again. Jethro Bass was a man who could find no outlet for his agony in speech or tears. "Yes," said Wetherell, "I thought you would have kept it.
"I understood that you were to be alone," he remarked, addressing Jethro with an attempted severity of manner. "Didn't say so d-didn't say so, did I?" answered Jethro. "Very well," said Mr. Worthington, "any other time will do for this little matter." "Er good night," said Jethro, shortly, and there was the suspicion of a gleam in his eye as Mr. Worthington turned away.
When the proposition which Moses seems, more or less confidently, to have expected to be made to him by the Lord, came, it came very suddenly and very emphatically. "Now Moses kept the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian: and he led the flock to the backside of the desert, and came to the mountain of God, even to Horeb.
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