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The editor had spread his talents for the public eye in doing justice to it: On the fifteenth of the month will be consummated a romance which began last year, when Charles Merchant, son of the well-known cattle king, John Merchant, went East and met Miss Anne Withero. It is Miss Withero's second visit in the West, and it is now announced that the marriage
"You are the same," he said with a sigh of relief. "And you are not afraid of me?" "Hush! Hush!" she repeated. "Afraid of you? Don't you see that I'm happy, happy, happy to see you again?" She drew him forward a little, and her hand touched his as she did so. She turned up the lamp, and a flood of strong yellow light went over the room. "But you have changed," said Anne Withero with a little cry.
Withero took his pipe out of his mouth and spat in the ashes as a preface to a few remarks. "Aye," he grunted, "I cocked m' ears up an' dunched oul Jamie whin Armshtrong said that. Jamie cudn't hear it, so I whispered t' m'self, 'Begorra, if a wee fella turns up whin Anthrim turns 'im out it's little credit t' Anthrim I'm thinkin'!"
There was first the fear of the man which he frankly admitted, and more than that was the feeling that one thing lay before him to be done before he could meet Dozier and end the long trail. He must see Anne Withero. She was about to be married and be drawn out of his world and into a new one. He felt it was more important than life or death to see her before that transformation took place.
When I returned, the cups were all tossed and the visitors had gone, but Willie Withero had dropped in and was invited to "stap" for tea. He was our most welcome visitor and there was but one house where he felt at home. "Tay" that evening consisted of "stir-about," Sonny Johnson's unearned bap and buttermilk.
It seemed to her that Charles Merchant sat, a filmy ghost, beside this tattered fugitive. He was speaking the same words that Andrew spoke, but his voice and his manner were to Andrew Lanning what moonshine is to sunlight. She had been thinking of Charles Merchant as a social asset; she began to think of him now as a possessing force. Anne Withero possessed by Charlie Merchant!
He leaned and looked, and he saw Anne Withero close the door behind her and lean against it. In the joy of her triumph that evening? No, her head was fallen, and he saw the gleam of her hand at her breast. He could not see her face clearly, but the bent head spoke eloquently of defeat. She came forward at length.
I slept at Jamie Wallace's that night, and next morning took the "dandther" with Withero up the Dublin road, past "The Mount of Temptation" to the old stone-pile that was no longer a pile, but a hole in the side of the road. It was a sentimental journey that gave Willie a chance to say some things I knew he wanted to say. "D'ye mind the pirta sack throusers Anna made ye onct?"
"I'll go mad, dear, if I have to stand it all night!" They dared not be discourteous. A reputation for heartlessness would have followed Anna to the grave if she had gone to bed while the dead child lay there. Withero had been at old William Farren's wake and was going home when he saw Anna and Jamie at the door. They explained the situation.
If he touched the hand of this man, there would be a bond between them which only death could break. In one blinding rush he sensed the strength and the faith of Allister. But another voice was at his ear, and he saw Anne Withero, as she had stood for that moment in his arms in her room. It came over him with a chill like cold moonlight. "Do you fear me?" he had whispered. "No."
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