I took old Mrs. Bolum to it, too, for she
tumbled the clamoring infants aside and in her joy forgot the ruffles
in the sleeves of her wonderful purple silk. At her elbow hovered the
tall, spare figure of Aaron Kallaberger. Mindful of the military
nature of the occasion he appeared in his old army overcoat, in spite
of the heat. Rare honor, this! And better still, he hailed me as
"Comrade," and enfolding my hand in his long horny fingers, cried
"All's well, Mark!"
The mill ceased its rumbling. Already the valley was rocking itself to
sleep. Out of the darkening sky rang the twanging call of a
night-hawk, and the cluck of a dozing hen sounded from the foliage
overhead. A flock of weary sheep pattered along the road, barnward
bound, heavy eyed and bleating softly. The blue gate was opened wide.
My hand was on Tim's shoulder and Tim's arm was my support.
"All's well!" I cried. For I was hobbling home.
II
Perry Thomas still had his speech to deliver. He hovered around the
rocking-chair in which they had enthroned me, and with one hand he kept
clutching violently at his throat as though he were suppressing his
eloquence by muscular effort.
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