Almighty seemed lending aid. Now the friendly grasp was
loosening, and yet the miller did all he could. He begged Steve
Marcum to urge Rufe to seek aid from the law when the latter
came back; and Steve laughed, and asked what justice was
possible for a Stetson, with a Lewallen for a judge and Braytons
for a jury. The miller pleaded with old Jasper, and old Jasper
pointed to the successes of his own life.

"I hev triumphed ag'in' my enemies time 'n' ag'in," he said. "The
Lord air on my side, 'n' I gits a better Christian ever' year." The old
man spoke with the sincerity of a barbarism that has survived the
dark ages, and, holding the same faith, the miller had no answer.
It was old Gabe indeed who had threatened to send to the
Governor for soldiers, and this he would have done, perhaps, had
there not been one hope left, and only one. A week had gone, and
there was no word from Rufe Stetson. Up on Thunderstruck Knob
the old Stetson mother was growing pitiably eager and restless.
Every day she slipped like a ghost through the leafless woods and
in and out the cabin, kindling hatred. At every dawn or dusk she
was on her porch peering through the dim light for Rufe Stetson.
Steve Marcum was ill at ease. Rome Stetson alone seemed
unconcerned, and his name was on every gossiping tongue.

He took little interest and no hand in getting ready for the war. He
forbade the firing of a gun till Rufe came back, else Steve should
fight his fight alone. He grew sullen and morose. His old mother's
look was a thorn in his soul, and he stayed little at home. He hung
about the mill, and when Isom became bedfast, the big
mountaineer, who had never handled anything but a horse, a
plough, or a rifle, settled him-self, to the bewilderment of the