The veins grew large and stood out on his forehead, and the big
knotted hand that was carrying his cup to his lips, trembled in the air
and then sank slowly back to the table. His usually dull and indifferent
gaze became suddenly piercing as if it were charged with electricity.
"It's nothing, father," said Blossom, pressing her hand to her bosom,
as though she were choking for breath, "and it's all silly talk, I know,
about Molly."
"What does it matter to you if it's true?" demanded Sarah tartly,
but Blossom, driven from the room by a spasm of coughing, had already
disappeared.
It was a close September night, and as Abel crossed the road to look
for a young heifer in the meadow the heavy scent of the Jamestown
weeds seemed to float downward beneath the oppressive weight of
the atmosphere. The sawing of the katydids came to him out of the
surrounding darkness, through which a light, gliding like a gigantic
glow-worm along the earth, revealed presently the figure of Jonathan
Gay, mounted on horseback and swinging a lantern from his saddle.
"A dark night, Revercomb."
"Yes, there'll be rain before morning.
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