mountins. Ev'ybody on the mountins knows that. He jes' have fooled you-all that-a-way, makin' out to marry you whilst he war in bed, like he couldn' stand on his feet, an' then gittin' up an' goin' off this-a-way, an' bidin' nigh on to a year. We don't 'low our women to be done that-a-way, like they war pore white trash. I come back fer you like I promised, an' you done gin me your promise, too. I reckon you won't go back on that now." He stepped nearer, and she clasped the babe closer, but did not flinch.
"Yes, Frale, you promised, and I—I—promised—to save you from yourself—to be a good man; but you broke yours. You didn't repent, and you went on drinking, and—then you tried to kill an innocent man when he was alone and unarmed; like a coward you shot him. I called back my words from God; I gave them to the man I loved—promise for promise, Frale."
"Yas, and curse for curse. You cursed me, Cass." He made one more step forward, but she stood her ground and lifted one hand above her head, the gesture he so well remembered.
"Keep back, Frale. I did not curse you. I let you go free, and no one followed you. Go back—farther—farther—or I will do it now— Oh, God—" He cowered, his arm before his eyes, and moved backward.
"Don't, Cass," he cried. For a moment she stood regally before him, her babe resting easily in the hollow of her arm. Then she slowly lowered her hand and spoke again, in quiet, distinct tones.