Quotes by Mary Johnston

SANCTUARY 349 XXVII. THE MISSION OF TRUELOVE 363 XXVIII. THE PLAYER 375 XXIX. AMOR VINCIT 391 XXX. THE LAST ACT 401 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE GAZED WITH WIDE-OPEN EYES AT THE INTRUDER (page 106) _Frontispiece_ “HAD YOU LOVED ME--I HAD BEEN HAPPY” 58 AUDREY LEFT HER WARNING TO BE SPOKEN BY MACLEAN 206 “I DO NOT THINK I HAVE THE HONOR OF KNOWING”-- 270 HER DARK EYES MADE APPEAL 342 “JEAN! JEAN HUGON!” 414 AUDREY CHAPTER I THE CABIN IN THE VALLEY The valley lay like a ribbon thrown into the midst of the encompassing hills. The grass which grew there was soft and fine and abundant; the trees which sprang from its dark, rich mould were tall and great of girth. A bright stream flashed through it, and the sunshine fell warm upon the grass and changed the tassels of the maize into golden plumes. Above the valley, east and north and south, rose the hills, clad in living green, mantled with the purpling grape, wreathed morn and eve with trailing mist. To the westward were the mountains, and they dwelt apart in a blue haze. Only in the morning, if the mist were not there, the sunrise struck upon their long summits, and in the evening they stood out, high and black and fearful, against the splendid sky. The child who played beside the cabin door often watched them as the valley filled with shadows, and thought of them as a great wall between her and some land of the fairies which must needs lie beyond that barrier, beneath the splendor and the evening star. The Indians called them the Endless Mountains, and the child never doubted that they ran across the world and touched the floor of heaven. In the hands of the woman who was spinning the thread broke and the song died in the white throat of the girl who stood in the doorway. For a moment the two gazed with widening eyes into the green September world without the cabin; then the woman sprang to her feet, tore from the wall a horn, and, running to the door, wound it lustily.

A MARRIAGE AT SAINT MARGARET'S XIII. THE THREE-NOTCHED ROAD XIV. THE LAW OFFICE XV. COMPANY TO SUPPER XVI. AT LYNCH'S XVII. FAIRFAX AND UNITY XVIII. THE GREEN DOOR XIX. MONTICELLO AGAIN XX. THE NINETEENTH OF FEBRUARY XXI. THE CEDAR WOOD XXII. MAJOR EDWARD XXIII. A CHALLENGE XXIV. THE DUEL XXV. OLD SAINT JOHN'S XXVI. THE TRIAL OF AARON BURR XXVII. THE LETTER XXVIII. RAND AND MOCKET XXIX. THE RIVER ROAD XXX. HOMEWARD XXXI. HUSBAND AND WIFE XXXII. THE BROTHERS XXXIII. GREENWOOD XXXIV. FAIRFAX CARY XXXV. THE IMAGE XXXVI. IN PURSUIT XXXVII. THE SIMPLE RIGHT XXXVIII. M. DE PINCORNET XXXIX. UNITY AND JACQUELINE XL. THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR ILLUSTRATIONS I will make court to you in a court some day (Frontispiece) You are a scoundrel Cary saw and flung out his arm, swerving his horse, but too late Drink to me only with thine eyes CHAPTER I THE ROAD TO RICHMOND The tobacco-roller and his son pitched their camp beneath a gum tree upon the edge of the wood. It was October, and the gum was the colour of blood. Behind it rolled the autumn forest; before it stretched a level of broom-sedge, bright ochre in the light of the setting sun. The road ran across this golden plain, and disappeared in a league-deep wood of pine. From an invisible clearing came a cawing of crows. The sky was cloudless, and the evening wind had not begun to blow. The small, shining leaves of the gum did not stir, and the flame of the camp-fire rose straight as a lance. The tobacco cask, transfixed by the trunk of a young oak and drawn by strong horses, had come to rest upon the turf by the roadside. Gideon Rand unharnessed the team, and from the platform built in the front of the cask took fodder for the horses, then tossed upon the grass a bag of meal, a piece of bacon, and a frying-pan. The boy collected the dry wood with which the earth was strewn, then struck flint and steel, guarded the spark within the tinder, fanned the flame, and with a sigh of satisfaction stood back from the leaping fire.

IN WHICH I CHANGE MY NAME AND OCCUPATION CHAPTER XXIII. IN WHICH WE WRITE UPON THE SAND CHAPTER XXIV. IN WHICH WE CHOOSE THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS CHAPTER XXV. IN WHICH MY LORD HATH HIS DAY CHAPTER XXVI. IN WHICH I AM BROUGHT TO TRIAL CHAPTER XXVII. IN WHICH I FIND AN ADVOCATE CHAPTER XXVIII. IN WHICH THE SPRINGTIME IS AT HAND CHAPTER XXIX. IN WHICH I KEEP TRYST CHAPTER XXX. IN WHICH WE START UPON A JOURNEY CHAPTER XXXI. IN WHICH NANTAUQUAS COMES TO OUR RESCUE CHAPTER XXXII. IN WHICH WE ARE THE GUESTS OF AN EMPEROR CHAPTER XXXIII. IN WHICH MY FRIEND BECOMES MY FOE CHAPTER XXXIV. IN WHICH THE RACE IS NOT TO THE SWIFT CHAPTER XXXV. IN WHICH I COME TO THE GOVERNOR'S HOUSE CHAPTER XXXVI. IN WHICH I HEAR ILL NEWS CHAPTER XXXVII. IN WHICH MY LORD AND I PART COMPANY CHAPTER XXXVIII. IN WHICH I GO UPON A QUEST CHAPTER XXXIX. IN WHICH WE LISTEN TO A SONG TO HAVE AND TO HOLD CHAPTER I IN WHICH I THROW AMBS-ACE THE work of the day being over, I sat down upon my doorstep, pipe in hand, to rest awhile in the cool of the evening. Death is not more still than is this Virginian land in the hour when the sun has sunk away, and it is black beneath the trees, and the stars brighten slowly and softly, one by one. The birds that sing all day have hushed, and the horned owls, the monster frogs, and that strange and ominous fowl (if fowl it be, and not, as some assert, a spirit damned) which we English call the whippoorwill, are yet silent. Later the wolf will howl and the panther scream, but now there is no sound. The winds are laid, and the restless leaves droop and are quiet. The low lap of the water among the reeds is like the breathing of one who sleeps in his watch beside the dead. I marked the light die from the broad bosom of the river, leaving it a dead man's hue. Awhile ago, and for many evenings, it had been crimson,--a river of blood. A week before, a great meteor had shot through the night, blood-red and bearded, drawing a slow-fading fiery trail across the heavens; and the moon had risen that same night blood-red, and upon its disk there was drawn in shadow a thing most marvelously like a scalping knife.