The Concealed Path
She got up when she saw my uncle.
"Abner," she cried, "by the Blessed God I am glad to see you! Come in! Come in!"
My uncle entered, and she put him beyond her at the table.
"You ought to eat, Abner," she said; "for by all the tokens, you have traveled."
"A long way," replied my uncle.
"And did the ravens of Elijah send you to me?" said the woman. "For I need you."
"What need?" inquired my uncle, while he attacked the rib of beef and the baked potatoes, for the dinner, although set with some formality, was plain.
"Why, this need, Abner: For a witness whose name will stand against the world."
"A witness!" repeated my uncle.
"Aye, a witness," continued the woman. "The country holds me hard and dour, and given to impose my will. There will be a wedding in my house to-night, and I would have you see it, free of pressure. My niece, Margaret McDonald, has got her senses finally."
My uncle looked down at the cloth.
"Who is the man?" he said.
"Campbell," she answered, "and good man enough for a stupid woman."
For a moment my uncle did not move. His hands, his body, the very muscles in his eyelids, were
267
