"Will you forgive me and let me make it as right with the world for you
and him as I can, Martha?" he asked. "I love you, but I'd have drawn us
all down into hell."
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Martha, looking up at me with positive fear of
me and of father and of our world in her wild face.
"Yes, Martha," I said, as I knelt beside her and took the Stray in my
arms, toward which he in his terror at the scene strained. "Father is a
justice and he'll make the license over there in the desk right. You
must, Martha, you must! It gives you and the boy to me to care for."
"Yes, Martha," echoed Nickols' voice, out of which the strength was
quickly going. "Help me wipe off as much of the slate as you can," and
the wandering hand suddenly encountered the boy's wee paddie resting on
the edge of the bed and clasped it close.
And with the three of us crouched there beside him, father and Mr.
Goodloe bound them legally and in the name of God, just as the last
flicker of strength flared up in Nickols' body. Immediately I rose with
the child in my arms and Martha took Nickols' head on her faithful
breast while the life ebbed away.
"Amen, Charlotte, amen," were his last whispered words and I understood
that he was ratifying again my prayer for light to lead the way of his
faltering steps.
And then came a stillness in which we all stood with bowed heads while
Martha sobbed.
The death of Nickols Morris Powers was an event of national interest and
telegrams and letters and representatives of the press poured into
Goodloets from all parts of the country. Mr. Jeffries and the Governor
stayed with us until it was all over, and when Mr. Jeffries left he
pressed into father's hand a large check of five figures.
"To help them build again, those who need it, in memory of him," he
said.
The Governor and his staff spent time and effort in helping to
reorganize Goodloets, but through it all it was the powerful Harpeth
Jaguar on whom we all leaned. He came and went day and night, tireless,
quiet, commanding, and with that great light shining from back of his
eyes upon us all. And in his ministrations down in the Settlement he
took Martha with him day after day. He forced her to use up all of the
strength that she possessed each day so that she would drop with
exhaustion at night. To me he left most of the comforting of Nell--and
Harriet. Like all women of buoyant and shallow nature, Nell soon began
to rebound from her tragedy and it was hard to keep Billy within
decorous bounds in his comforting of her. It would have been impossible
to have done it at all with the former Billy, but the quiet, steady
light that shone in his honest eyes whenever he helped with Nell and the
children spoke well for a reformed and perfectly satisfactory future for
them all.