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riders of the purple sage-第53部分

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〃It was to find I hadn't any home; no more。 Father had been dead a year。 Frank Erne still lived in the house where Milly had left him。 I stayed with him awhile; an' I grew old watchin' him。 His farm had gone to weed; his cattle had strayed or been rustled; his house weathered till it wouldn't keep out rain nor wind。 An' Frank set on the porch and whittled sticks; an' day by day wasted away。 There was times when he ranted about like a crazy man; but mostly he was always sittin' an' starin' with eyes that made a man curse。 I figured Frank had a secret fear that I needed to know。 An' when I told him I'd trailed Milly for near three years an' had got trace of her; an' saw where she'd had her baby; I thought he would drop dead at my feet。 An' when he'd come round more natural…like he begged me to give up the trail。 But he wouldn't explain。 So I let him alone; an' watched him day en' night。

〃An' I found there was one thing still precious to him; an' it was a little drawer where he kept his papers。 This was in the room where he slept。 An' it 'peered he seldom slept。 But after bein' patient I got the contents of that drawer an' found two letters from Milly。 One was a long letter written a few months after her disappearance。 She had been bound an' gagged an' dragged away from her home by three men; an' she named themHurd; Metzger; Slack。 They was strangers to her。 She was taken to the little town where I found trace of her two years after。 But she didn't send the letter from that town。 There she was penned in。 'Peared that the proselytes; who had; of course; come on the scene; was not runnin' any risks of losin' her。 She went on to say that for a time she was out of her head; an' when she got right again all that kept her alive was the baby。 It was a beautiful baby; she said; an' all she thought an' dreamed of was somehow to get baby back to its father; an' then she'd thankfully lay down and die。 An' the letter ended abrupt; in the middle of a sentence; en' it wasn't signed。

〃The second letter was written more than two years after the first。 It was from Salt Lake City。 It simply said that Milly had heard her brother was on her trail。 She asked Frank to tell her brother to give up the search because if he didn't she would suffer in a way too horrible to tell。 She didn't beg。 She just stated a fact an' made the simple request。 An' she ended that letter by sayin' she would soon leave Salt Lake City with the man she had come to love; en' would never be heard of again。

〃I recognized Milly's handwritin'; an' I recognized her way of puttin' things。 But that second letter told me of some great change in her。 Ponderin' over it; I felt at last she'd either come to love that feller an' his religion; or some terrible fear made her lie an' say so。 I couldn't be sure which。 But; of course; I meant to find out。 I'll say here; if I'd known Mormons then as I do now I'd left Milly to her fate。 For mebbe she was right about what she'd suffer if I kept on her trail。 But I was young an' wild them days。 First I went to the town where she'd first been taken; an' I went to the place where she'd been kept。 I got that skunk who owned the place; an' took him out in the woods; an' made him tell all he knowed。 That wasn't much as to length; but it was pure hell's…fire in substance。 This time I left him some incapacitated for any more skunk work short of hell。 Then I hit the trail for Utah。

〃That was fourteen years ago。 I saw the incomin' of most of the Mormons。 It was a wild country an' a wild time。 I rode from town to town; village to village; ranch to ranch; camp to camp。 I never stayed long in one place。 I never had but one idea。 I never rested。 Four years went by; an' I knowed every trail in northern Utah。 I kept on an' as time went by; an' I'd begun to grow old in my search; I had firmer; blinder faith in whatever was guidin' me。 Once I read about a feller who sailed the seven seas an' traveled the world; an' he had a story to tell; an' whenever he seen the man to whom he must tell that story he knowed him on sight。 I was like that; only I had a question to ask。 An' always I knew the man of whom I must ask。 So I never really lost the trail; though for many years it was the dimmest trail ever followed by any man。

〃Then come a change in my luck。 Along in Central Utah I rounded up Hurd; an' I whispered somethin' in his ear; an' watched his face; an' then throwed a gun against his bowels。 An' he died with his teeth so tight shut I couldn't have pried them open with a knife。 Slack an' Metzger that same year both heard me whisper the same question; an' neither would they speak a word when they lay dyin'。 Long before I'd learned no man of this breed or classor God knows whatwould give up any secrets! I had to see in a man's fear of death the connections with Milly Erne's fate。 An' as the years passed at long intervals I would find such a man。

〃So as I drifted on the long trail down into southern Utah my name preceded me; an' I had to meet a people prepared for me; an' ready with guns。 They made me a gun…man。 An' that suited me。 In all this time signs of the proselyter an' the giant with the blue…ice eyes an' the gold beard seemed to fade dimmer out of the trail。 Only twice in ten years did I find a trace of that mysterious man who had visited the proselyter at my home village。 What he had to do with Milly's fate was beyond all hope for me to learn; unless my guidin' spirit led me to him! As for the other man; I knew; as sure as I breathed en' the stars shone en' the wind blew; that I'd meet him some day。

〃Eighteen years I've been on the trail。 An' it led me to the last lonely villages of the Utah border。 Eighteen years!。。。I feel pretty old now。 I was only twenty when I hit that trail。 Well; as I told you; back here a ways a Gentile said Jane Withersteen could tell me about Milly Erne an' show me her grave!〃

The low voice ceased; and Lassiter slowly turned his sombrero round and round; and appeared to be counting the silver ornaments on the band。 Jane; leaning toward him; sat as if petrified; listening intently; waiting to hear more。 She could have shrieked; but power of tongue and lips were denied her。 She saw only this sad; gray; passion…worn man; and she heard only the faint rustling of the leaves。

〃Well; I came to Cottonwoods;〃 went on Lassiter; 〃an' you showed me Milly's grave。 An' though your teeth have been shut tighter 'n them of all the dead men Iyin' back along that trail; jest the same you told me the secret I've lived these eighteen years to hear! Jane; I said you'd tell me without ever me askin'。 I didn't need to ask my question here。 The day; you remember; when that fat party throwed a gun on me in your court; an'〃

〃Oh! Hush!〃 whispered Jane; blindly holding up her hands。

〃I seen in your face that Dyer; now a bishop; was the proselyter who ruined Milly Erne。〃

For an instant Jane Withersteen's brain was a whirling chaos and she recovered to find herself grasping at Lassiter like one drowning。 And as if by a lightning stroke she sprang from her dull apathy into exquisite torture。

〃It's a lie! Lassiter! No; no!〃 she moaned。 〃I swearyou're wrong!〃

〃Stop! You'd perjure yourself! But I'll spare you that。 You poor woman! Still blind! Still faithful!。。。Listen。 I know。 Let that settle it。 An' I give up my purpose!〃

〃What is ityou say?〃

〃I give up my purpose。 I've come to see an' feel differently。 I can't help poor Milly。 An' I've outgrowed revenge。 I've come to see I can be no judge for men。 I can't kill a man jest for hate。 Hate ain't the same with me since I loved you and little Fay。〃

〃Lassiter! You mean you won't kill him?〃 Jane whispered。

〃No。〃

〃For my sake?〃

〃I reckon。 I can't understand; but I'll respect your feelin's。〃

〃Because youoh; because you love me?。。。Eighteen years! You were that terrible Lassiter! And nowbecause you love me?〃

〃That's it; Jane。〃

〃Oh; you'll make me love you! How can I help but love you? My heart must be stone。 Butoh; Lassiter; wait; wait! Give me time。 I'm not what I was。 Once it was so easy to love。 Now it's easy to hate。 Wait! My faith in Godsome Godstill lives。 By it I see happier times for you; poor passion…swayed wanderer! For mea miserable; broken woman。 I loved your sister Milly。 I will love you。 I can't have fallen so lowI can't be so abandoned by Godthat I've no love left to give you。 Wait! Let us forget Milly's sad life。 Ah; I knew it as no one else on earth! There's one thing I shall tell youif you are at my death…bed; but I can't speak now。〃

〃I reckon I don't want to hear no more;〃 said Lassiter。

Jane leaned against him; as if some pent…up force had rent its way out; she fell into a paroxysm of weeping。 Lassiter held her in silent sympathy。 By degrees she regained composure; and she was rising; sensible of being relieved of a weighty burden; when a sudden start on Lassiter's part alarmed her。

〃I heard hosseshosses with muffled hoofs!〃 he said; and he got up guardedly。

〃Where's Fay?〃 asked Jane; hurriedly glancing round the shady knoll。 The bright…haired child; who had appeared to be close all the time; was not in sight。

〃Fay!〃 called Jane。

No answering shout of glee。 No patter of flying feet。 Jane saw Lassiter stiffen。

〃FayohFay!〃 Jane almos
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