The penknife was still in her pocket, and, opening
it, she went behind the Pine and dug a niche as high and as deep
as she could toward its soft old heart. In there she thrust the
tiny symbol, whispering:
"I want all the luck you could ever give me, little cross--for
HIM." Then she pulled the fibres down to cover it from sight and,
crossing her hands over the opening, she put her forehead against
them and touched her lips to the tree.
"Keep it safe, old Pine." Then she lifted her face--looking upward
along its trunk to the blue sky. "And bless him, dear God, and
guard him evermore." She clutched her heart as she turned, and she
was clutching it when she passed into the shadows below, leaving
the old Pine to whisper, when he passed, her love.
* * * * * * *
Next day the word went round to the clan that the Tollivers would
start in a body one week later for the West. At daybreak, that
morning, Uncle Billy and his wife mounted the old gray horse and
rode up the river to say good-by. They found the cabin in Lonesome
Cove deserted. Many things were left piled in the porch; the
Tollivers had left apparently in a great hurry and the two old
people were much mystified.
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