On the other two
sides the old fields ended in a solid black wall of pine-barren. A roadway
led from the house through the broom-grass to the barren, and at the
beginning of this road stood an outhouse, also on brick legs, which, save
for a small stable, was the sole out-building. One end of this house was a
kitchen, the other was divided into two rooms for servants. There were some
shattered remnants of oak-trees out in the field, and some chimneys
overgrown with vines, showing where in happier times the real homestead had
stood.
It was toward the end of February; a clear afternoon drawing toward sunset;
and all the flat, sad country was covered with a drifting red glow that
turned the field of broom-grass into a sea of gold; that lighted up the
black wall of pine-barren, and shot, here and there, long shafts of light
into the sombre depths of the cypress swamp. There was no sign of life
about the dwelling-house, though the doors and windows stood open; but
every now and then a negro woman came out of the kitchen and looked about,
while within a dog whined.
Shading her eyes with her hand, this woman would gaze across the field
toward the ruin; then down the road; then, descending the steps, she would
walk a little way toward the swamp and look along the dam that, ending the
yard on this side, led out between the marsh and the swamp to the river.
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