explanation of Sandy Flash's words, and he asked none.

"I shall know no peace, child," she said, "until the money has been
paid, and the mortgage is in your hands."

"You won't have long to wait, now, mother," he answered cheerily. "I
shall see Mark on Wednesday evening, and therefore can start for Chester
on Friday, come rain or shine. As for Sandy Flash, he's no doubt up on
the Welch Mountain by this time. It isn't his way to turn up twice in
succession, in the same place."

"You don't know him, Gilbert. He won't soon forget that you shot at
him."

"I seem to be safe enough, if he tells the truth." Gilbert could not
help remarking.

Mary Potter shook her head, and said nothing.

Two more lovely Indian-summer days went by, and as the wine-red sun
slowly quenched his lower limb in the denser smoke along the horizon,
the great bronzed moon struggled out of it, on the opposite rim of the
sky. It was a weird light and a weird atmosphere, such as we might
imagine overspreading Babylonian ruins, on the lone plains of the
Euphrates; but no such fancies either charmed or tormented the lusty,
wide-awake, practical lads and lasses, whom the brightening moon beheld
on their way to the Fairthorn farm. "The best night for huskin' that
ever was," comprised the sum of their appreciation.

At the old farm-house there was great stir of preparation. Sally, with