"Couldst thou obey the command at such a moment?" exclaimed Pearson, shuddering.
When a fierce and riotous gust of wind had led his thoughts, by a natural association, to homeless travellers on such a night, Pearson resumed the conversation.
Pearson's wan countenance grew paler, for many a visit of persecution had taught him what to dread; the old man, on the other hand, stood up erect, and his glance was firm as that of the tried soldier who awaits his enemy.
"Nay, I will present myself before them," said Pearson, with recovered fortitude.
"Enter, friend, and do thy errand, be it what it may," said Pearson. "It must needs be pressing, since thou comest on such a bitter night."
Pearson started, the elder Quaker stirred the slumbering embers of the fire till they sent up a clear and lofty blaze; it was a female voice that had spoken; it was a female form that shone out, cold and wintry, in that comfortable light.
Pearson made a silent appeal to the old man, nor did the latter shrink from the painful task assigned him.
RAY PEARSON and Hal Winters were farm hands em- ployed on a farm three miles north of Winesburg.
But this is not the story of Windpeter Winters nor yet of his son Hal who worked on the Wills farm with Ray Pearson. It is Ray's story.
The whole world seemed to Ray Pearson to have become alive with something just as he and Hal had suddenly become alive when they stood in the corn field stating into each other's eyes.
Darkness began to spread over the fields as Ray Pearson ran on and on.
Ray Pearson lost his nerve and this is really the end of the story of what happened to him.