The Marbeau Cousins

the man who stood with folded arms behind her. The great, gaunt figure, with its wrinkled yellow neck and wisps of gray hair projecting from her plaid turban, wavered a moment in the changing firelight. Her voice broke the silence, weak and full of quavers, but gathering strength as her evident excitement increased. "I saw young Marster under de new moon," she said, "lost and ersleep in de hills! I hyard es voice when de moon was full; an' all de dark nights I hyard 'im callin' for Silvy tell I cyant sleep. An' now I hyah es footstep on my cabin flo'." She waited. The man made no answer. Slowly, with dread, she turned her wrinkled face and fixed upon him her weak, dim orbs. At sight of the hatless figure and the eyes of the man, now blazing in his bearded face, she uttered a low moan, followed by the single word, a mere whisper: "Dead!" "Yes, dead," he began. She caught her breath with a gasp and stretched out her hand to the rude mantel, while he continued, "dead to the world; but to you, Mammy Silvy, to you and one man, alive!" He rested his hand lightly upon her shoulder as he spoke. "You are the one friend that Chilon can rely on," he continued bitterly; "but he has one enemy, and life is worth living if we have one friend and one enemy!" Still doubtful and trembling, the woman took his hand in both of hers, and struggled for self-control while she sought to read his face. "Changed! Changed!" she whispered. He looked away a moment, his head droo...