Gay's knee, looked through the casement
window to where the October roses bloomed and dropped in the squares of
the Italian garden. Then at the sound of hurried footsteps on the walk
outside, the girl rose from the ottoman and went out, closing the door
after her. In the hall the blanched face of Uncle Abednego confronted
her like the face of a spectre.
"I ain't a-gwine ter tell Miss Angela--I ain't a-gwine ter tell Miss
Angela," he moaned, "Marse Jonathan, he's been shot down yonder at Poplar
Spring des like Ole Marster!"
CHAPTER XV
GAY DISCOVERS HIMSELF
As Gay passed rapidly down the Haunt's Walk a rustle in the witch-hazel
bushes accompanied him, stopping instantly when he stopped, and
beginning again when he moved, as though something, crouching there,
listened in breathless suspense for the fall of his footsteps. At
the Poplar Spring the sound grew so distinct that he hastened in the
direction of it, calling in an impatient voice, "Blossom! Are you there,
Blossom?" The words were still on his lips, when a thick grape-vine
parted in front of him, and the bearded immobile face of Abner Revercomb
looked out at him, with hatred in his eyes.
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