“You see, Mr. Hartsook, I ha’n’t forgot what was said about puttin’ in our best licks for Jesus Christ.  I’ve been a-trying to read some about him while I set here.  And I read where he said somethin about doing fer the least of his brethren being as the same like as if it was done fer Jesus Christ his-self.  Now there’s Shocky.  I reckon, p’r’aps, as anybody is a little brother of Jesus Christ, it is that Shocky.  Pete Jones and his brother Bill is determined to have him back there to-morry.  Bekase you see, Pete’s one of the County Commissioners and to-morry’s the day that they bind out.  He wants to bind out that boy jes’ to spite ole Pearson and you and me.  You see, the ole woman’s been helped by the neighbors, and he’ll claim Shocky to be a pauper, and they a’n’t no human soul here as dares to do a thing con_tra_ry to Pete.  Couldn’t you git him over to Lewisburg?  I’ll lend you my roan colt.”

Ralph thought a minute.  He dared not take Shocky to the uncle’s where he found his only home.  But there was Miss Nancy Sawyer, the old maid who was everybody’s blessing.  He could ask her to keep him.  And, at any rate, he would save Shocky somehow.

As he went out in the dusk, he met Hannah in the lane.

CHAPTER XIX.

FACE TO FACE.

In the lane, in the dark, under the shadow of the barn, Ralph met Hannah carrying her bucket of milk (they have no pails in Indiana)[23].  He could see only the white foam on the milk, and Hannah’s white face.  Perhaps it was well that he could not see how white Hannah’s face was at that moment when a sudden trembling made her set down the heavy bucket.  At first neither spoke.  The recollection of all the joy of that walk together in the night came upon them both.  And a great sense of loss made the night seem supernaturally dark to Ralph.  Nor was it any lighter in the hopeless heart of the bound girl.  The presence of Ralph did not now, as before, make the darkness of her life light.

“Hannah—­” said Ralph presently, and stopped.  For he could not finish the sentence.  With a rush there came upon him a consciousness of the suspicions that filled Hannah’s mind.  And with it there came a feeling of guilt.  He saw himself from her stand-point, and felt a remorse almost as keen as it could have been had he been a criminal.  And this sudden and morbid sense of his guilt as it appeared to Hannah paralyzed him.  But when Hannah lifted her bucket with her hand, and the world with her heavy heart, and essayed to pass him, Ralph rallied and said: 

“You don’t believe all these lies that are told about me.”

“I don’t believe anything, Mr. Hartsook; that is, I don’t want to believe anything against you.  And I wouldn’t mind anything they say if it wasn’t for two things”—­here she stammered and looked down.

“If it wasn’t for what?” said Ralph with a spice of indignant denial in his voice.