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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18488-8.txt b/18488-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a13a9fe --- /dev/null +++ b/18488-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10909 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Place Beyond the Winds, by Harriet T. Comstock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Place Beyond the Winds + +Author: Harriet T. Comstock + +Illustrator: Harry Spafford Potter + +Release Date: June 2, 2006 [EBook #18488] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLACE BEYOND THE WINDS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan +and yet divine"] + + + + +THE PLACE BEYOND THE WINDS + +BY HARRIET T. COMSTOCK + + +_Illustrated by_ +HARRY SPAFFORD POTTER + +GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +1914 + + + + +FOREWORD + + +The In-Place cannot be found; you must happen upon it! Hidden behind its +rugged red rocks and hemlock-covered hills, it lies waiting for something +to happen. It has its Trading Station, to and from which the Canadian +Indians paddle their canoes--sometimes a dugout--bearing rare, luscious +blue berries invitingly packed in small baskets with their own green +leaves. And to the Station, also, go the hardy natives--good English, +Scotch, or "Mixed"--with their splendid loads of fish. + +"White fish go: pickerel come"--but always there is fish through summer +days and winter's ice. + +There is a lovely village Green, around which the modest homes cluster +sociably. Poor, plain places they may be, but never dirty nor untidy. And +the children and dogs! Such lovely babies; such human animals. They play +and work together quite naturally and are the truest friends. + +A little church, with a queer pointed spire and a beautiful altar, +stands with open doors like a kindly welcome to all. Back of this, and +apologetically placed behind its stockade fence, is the jail. + +To have a jail and never need it! What more can be said of a community? +But you are told--if you insist upon it--that the building is preserved +as a warning, and if any one should by chance be forced to occupy it, "he +will have the best the place affords"--for justice is seasoned with mercy +in the In-Place. + +If you would know the aristocracy of the hamlet you must leave the +friendly Green and the pleasant water of the Channel, climb the red +rocks, tread the grassy road between the hemlocks and the pines, and find +the farms. For, be it understood, by one's ability to wrench a living +from the soil instead of the water is he known and estimated. To fish is +to gamble; to plant and reap is conservative business. + +Dreamer's Rock and One Tree Island, Far Hill Place and Lonely Farm, +safely sheltered they lie, and from them, in obedience to the "Lure of +the States," comes now and again an adventurous soul to make his way, if +so he may; and never was there a braver, truer wanderer than Priscilla of +Lonely Farm. Equipped with a great faith, a straight method of thinking, +and an ideal that never faded from her sight, she, by the help of the +Poor Property Man, found her place and her work awaiting her. Love, she +found, too--love that had to be tested by a man's sense of honour and a +woman's determination, but it survived and found its fulfilment before +the Shrine in the woods beyond Lonely Farm, where, as a little child, +Priscilla had set up her Strange God and given homage to it. + +Harriet T. Comstock. + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan and yet divine" +_Frontispiece_ + +"'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!' The +bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway" + +"'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you! You'll blacken +my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous +and--marry me?'" + +"In one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, the man +upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then at +Priscilla" + +"'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out to the open +sea'" + + + + +The Place Beyond the Winds + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Priscilla Glenn stood on the little slope leading down from the farmhouse +to the spring at the bottom of the garden, and lifted her head as a young +deer does when it senses something new or dangerous. Suddenly, and +entirely subconsciously, she felt her kinship with life, her relation to +the lovely May day which was more like June than May--and a rare thing +for Kenmore--whose seasons lapsed into each other as calmly and +sluggishly as did all the other happenings in that spot known to the +Canadian Indians as The Place Beyond the Wind--the In-Place. + +Across Priscilla's straight, young shoulders lay a yoke from both ends of +which dangled empty tin pails, destined, sooner or later, to be filled +with that peculiarly fine water of which Nathaniel Glenn was so proud. +Nathaniel Glenn never loved things in a human, tender fashion, but he was +proud of many things--proud that he, and his before him, had braved the +hardships of farming among the red, rocky hills of Kenmore instead of +wrenching a livelihood from the water. This capacity for tilling the soil +instead of gambling in fish had made of Glenn, and a few other men, the +real aristocracy of the place. Nathaniel's grandfather, with his wife and +fifteen children, had been the first white settlers of Kenmore. So eager +had the Indians been to have this first Glenn among them that it is said +they offered him any amount of land he chose to select, and Glenn had +taken only so much as would insure him a decent farm and prospects. This +act of restraint had further endeared him to the natives, and no regret +was ever known to follow the advent of the estimable gentleman. + +The present Glenn never boasted; he had no need to; the plain statement +of fact was enough to secure his elevated position from mean attack. + +Nathaniel had taught himself to read and write--a most unusual thing--and +naturally he was proud of that. He was proud of his stern, bleak religion +that left no doubt in his own mind of his perfect interpretation of +divine will. He was proud of his handsome wife--twenty years younger than +himself. Inwardly he was proud of that, within himself, which had been +capable of securing Theodora where other men had failed. Theodora had +caused him great disappointment, but Nathaniel was a just man and he +could not exactly see that his disappointment was due to any deliberate +or malicious act of Theodora's; it was only when his wife showed weak +tendencies toward making light of the matter that he hardened his heart. + +In the face of his great desire and his modest aspirations--Theodora had +borne for him (that was the only way he looked at it) five children--all +girls, when she very well knew a son was the one thing, in the way of +offspring, that he had expected or wanted. + +The first child was as dark as a little Indian, "so dark," explained +Nathaniel, "that she would have been welcome in any house on a New Year's +Day." She lasted but a year, and, while she was a regret, she had been +tolerated as an attempt, at least, in the right direction. Then came the +second girl, a soft, pale creature with ways that endeared her to the +mother-heart so tragically that when she died at the age of two Theodora +rebelliously proclaimed that she wanted no other children! This blasphemy +shocked Nathaniel beyond measure, and when, a year later, twin girls were +born on Lonely Farm, he pointed out to his wife that no woman could fly +in the face of the Almighty with impunity and she must now see, in this +double disgrace of sex, her punishment. + +Theodora was stricken; but the sad little sisters early escaped the +bondage of life, and the Glenns once again, childless and alone, viewed +the future superstitiously and with awe. Even Nathaniel, hope gone as to +a son, resignedly accepted the fate that seemed to pursue him. Then, +after five years, Priscilla was born, the lustiest and most demanding of +all the children. + +"She seems," said Long Jean, the midwife, "to be made of the odds and +ends of all the others. She has the clear, dark skin of the first, the +blue eyes of the second, and the rusty coloured hair and queer features +of the twins." + +Between Long Jean and Mary Terhune, midwives, a social rivalry existed. +On account of her Indian taint Long Jean was less sought in aristocratic +circles, but so great had been the need the night when Priscilla made her +appearance, that both women had been summoned, and Long Jean, arriving +first, and, her superior skill being well known, was accepted. + +When she announced the birth and sex of the small stranger, Nathaniel, +smoking before the fire in the big, clean, bare, living-room, permitted +himself one reckless defiance: + +"Not wanted!" Long Jean made the most of this. + +"And his pretty wife at the point of death," she gossiped to Mrs. McAdam +of the White Fish Lodge; "and there is this to say about the child being +a girl: the lure of the States can't touch her, and Nathaniel may have +some one to turn to for care and what not when infirmity overtakes him. +Besides, the lass may be destined for the doing of big things; those +witchy brats often are." + +"The lure don't get all the boys," muttered Mary McAdam, cautiously +thinking of her Sandy, aged five, and Tom, a bit older. + +"All as amounts to much," Long Jean returned. + +And in her heart of hearts Mary McAdam knew this to be true. The time +would come to her, as it had to all Kenmore mothers, when she would have +to acknowledge that by the power of the "lure" were her boys to be +tested. + +But Priscilla at Lonely Farm showed a hardened disregard of her state. +She persisted and grew sturdy and lovely in defiance of tradition and +conditions. She was as keen-witted and original as she was independent +and charming. Still Theodora took long before she capitulated, and +Nathaniel never succumbed. Indeed, as years passed he grew to fear and +dislike his young daughter. The little creature, in some subtle way, +seemed to have "found him out"; she became, though he would not admit it, +a materialized conscience to him. She made him doubt himself; she laughed +at him, elfishly and without excuse or explanation. + +Once they two, sitting alone before the hearth--Nathaniel in his great +chair, Priscilla in her small one--faced each other fearsomely for a +time; then the child gave the gurgling laugh of inner understanding that +maddened the father. + +"What you laughing at?" he muttered, taking the pipe from his mouth. + +"You!" Priscilla was only seven then, but large and strong. + +"Me? How dare you!" + +"You are so funny. If I screw my eyes tight I see two of you." + +Then Nathaniel struck her. Not brutally, not maliciously; he wanted +desperately to set himself right by--old-time and honoured methods--force +of authority! + +Priscilla sprang from her chair, all the laughter and joyousness gone +from her face. She went close to her father, and leaning toward him as +though to confide the warning to him more directly, said slowly: + +"Don't you do that or Cilla will hate you!" + +It was as if she meant to impress upon him that past a certain limit he +could not go. + +Nathaniel rose in mighty wrath at this, and, white-faced and outraged, +darted toward the rebel, but she escaped him and put the width of the +room and the square deal table between them. Then began the chase that +suddenly sank into a degrading and undignified proceeding. Around and +around the two went, and presently the child began to laugh again as +the element of sport entered in. + +So Theodora came upon them, and her deeper understanding of her husband's +face frightened and spurred her to action. In that moment, while she +feared, she loved, as she had never loved before, her small daughter. If +the child was a conscience to her stern father, she was a materialization +of all the suppressed defiance of the mother, and, ignoring consequences, +she ran to Priscilla, gathered her in her arms, and over the little, hot, +panting body, confronted the blazing eyes of her husband. + +And Nathaniel had done--nothing; said nothing! In a moment the fury, +outwardly, subsided, but deep in all three hearts new emotions were born +never to die. + +After that there was a triangle truce. The years slipped by. Theodora +taught her little daughter to read by a novel method which served the +double purpose of quickening the keen intellect and arousing a +housewifely skill. + +The alphabet was learned from the labels on the cans of vegetables and +fruits on Theodora's shelves. There was one line of goods made by a firm, +according to its own telling, high in the favour of "their Majesties So +and So," that was rich in vowels and consonants. When Priscilla found +that by taking innocent looking little letters and stringing them +together like beads she could make words, she was wild with delight, and +when she discovered that she could further take the magic words and by +setting them forth in orderly fashion express her own thoughts or know +another's thoughts, she was happy beyond description. + +"Father," she panted at that point, her hands clasped before her, her +dark, blue-eyed face flushing and paling, "will you let me go to Master +Farwell to study with the boys?" + +Nathaniel eyed her from the top step of the porch; "with the boys" had +been fatal to the child's request. + +"No," he said firmly, the old light of antagonism glinting suddenly under +his brow, "girls don't need learning past what their mothers can give +them." + +"I--do! I'm willing to suffer and _die_, but I do want to know things." +She was an intense atom, and from the first thought true and straight. + +A sharp memory was in her mind and it lent fervour to her words. It +related to the episode of the small, fat mustard jar which always graced +the middle of the dining table. They had once told her that the contents +of the jar "were not for little girls." + +They had been mistaken. She had investigated, suffered, and learned! +Well, she was ready to suffer--but learn she must! + +Nathaniel shook his head and set forth his scheme of life for her, +briefly and clearly. + +"You'll have nothing but woman ways--bad enough you need them--they will +tame and keep you safe. You'll marry early and find your pleasure and +duty in your home." + +Priscilla turned without another word, but there was an ugly line between +her eyes. + +That night and the next she took the matter before a higher judge, +and fervently, rigidly prayed. On the third night she pronounced +her ultimatum. Kneeling by the tiny gable window of her grim little +bedchamber, her face strained and intense, her big eyes fixed on a red, +pulsing planet above the hemlocks outside, she said: + +"Dear God, I'll give you three days to move his stony heart to let me +go to school; if you don't do it by then, I'm going to worship graven +images!" + +Priscilla at that time was eight, and three days seemed to her a generous +time limit. But Nathaniel's stony heart did not melt, and at the end of +the three days Priscilla ceased to pray for many and many a year, and +forthwith she proceeded to worship a graven image of her own creation. + +A mile up the grassy road, beyond Lonely Farm and on the way toward the +deep woods, was an open space of rich, red rock surrounded by a soft, +feathery fringe of undergrowth and a few well-grown trees. From this spot +one could see the Channel widened out into the Little Bay: the myriad +islands, and, off to the west, the Secret and Fox Portages, beyond which +lay the Great Bay, where the storms raged and the wind--such wind as +Kenmore never knew--howled and tore like a raging fiend! + +In this open stretch of trees and rock Priscilla set up her own god. She +had found the bleached skull of a cow in one of her father's pastures; +this gruesome thing mounted upon a forked stick, its empty eye-sockets +and ears filled with twigs and dried grasses, was sufficiently pagan +and horrible to demand an entirely unique form of worship, and this +Priscilla proceeded to evolve. She invented weird words, meaningless but +high-sounding; she propitiated her idol with wild dances and an abandon +of restraint. Before it she had moments of strange silence when, with +wonder-filled eyes, she waited for suggestion and impression by which to +be guided. Very young was she when intuitively she sensed the inner call +that was always so deeply to sway her. Through the years from eight to +fourteen Priscilla worshipped more or less frequently before her secret +shrine. The uncanny ceremony eased many an overstrained hour and did for +the girl what should have been done in a more normal way. The place on +the red rock became her sanctuary. To it she carried her daily task of +sewing and dreamed her long dreams. + +The Glenns rarely went to church--the distance was too great--but +Nathaniel, looming high and stern across the table in the bare kitchen, +morning and night, set forth the rigid, unlovely creed of his belief. +This fell upon Priscilla's unheeding ears, but the hours before the +shrine were deeply, tenderly religious, although they were bright and +merry hours. + +Of course, during the years, there were the regular Kenmore happenings +that impressed the girl to a greater or lesser degree, but they were like +pictures thrown upon a screen--they came, they went, while her inner +growth was steady and sure. + +Two families, one familiar and commonplace, the other more mystical than +anything else, interested Priscilla mightily during her early youth. +Jerry and Michael McAlpin, with little Jerry-Jo, the son of old Jerry, +were vital factors in Kenmore. They occupied the exalted position of +rural expressmen, and distributed, when various things did not interfere, +the occasional freight and mail that survived the careless methods of the +vicinity. + +The McAlpin brothers were hard drinkers, but they were most considerate. +When Jerry indulged, Michael remained sober and steady; when Michael fell +before temptation, Jerry pulled himself together in a marvellous way, and +so, as a firm, they had surmounted every inquiry and suspicion of a +relentless government and were welcomed far and wide, not only for their +legitimate business, but for the amount of gossip and scandal they +disbursed along with their load. Jerry-Jo, the son of the older McAlpin, +was four years older than Priscilla and was the only really young +creature who had ever entered her life intimately. + +The other family, of whom the girl thought vaguely, as she might have of +a story, were the Travers of the Far Hill Place. + +Now it might seem strange to more social minds that people from a distant +city could come summer after summer to the same spot and yet remain +unknown to their nearest neighbours; but Kenmore was not a social +community. It had all the reserve of its English heritage combined with +the suspicion of its Indian taint, and it took strangers hard. Then, +added to this, the Traverses aroused doubt, for no one, especially +Nathaniel Glenn, could account for a certain big, heavy-browed man who +shared the home life of the Hill Place without any apparent right or +position. For Mrs. Travers, Glenn had managed to conjure up a very actual +distrust. She was too good-looking and free-acting to be sound; and her +misshapen and delicate son was, so the severe man concluded, a curse, in +all probability, for past offences. The youth of Kenmore was straight and +hearty, unless--and here Nathaniel recalled his superstitions--dire +vengeance was wreaked on parents through their offspring. + +With no better reason than this, and with the stubbornness he mistook for +strength, Glenn would have nothing to do with his neighbours, four miles +back in the woods, and had forbidden the sale of milk and garden stuff to +them. + +All this Priscilla had heard, as children do, but she had never seen any +member of the family from the Far Hill Place, and mentally relegated them +to the limbo of the damned under the classification of "them, from the +States." Their name, even, was rarely mentioned, and, while curiosity +often swayed her, temptation had never overruled obedience. + +The McAlpins, with all their opportunity and qualifications, found little +about the strangers from which to make talk. The family were reserved, +and Tough Pine, the Indian guide they had impressed into summer service, +was either bought or, from natural inclination, kept himself to himself. + +So, until the summer when she was fourteen, Priscilla Glenn knew less +about the Far Hill people than she did about the inhabitants of heaven +and hell, with whom her father was upon such intimate and familiar terms. + +Once, when Priscilla was ten, something had occurred which prepared her +for following events. It was a bright morning and the McAlpin boat +stopped at the wharf of Lonely Farm. While old Jerry went to the +farmhouse with a package, Jerry-Jo remained on guard deeply engrossed in +a book he had extracted from a box beneath the seat. He appeared not to +notice Priscilla, who ran down the path to greet him in friendly fashion. + +The boy was about fifteen then, and all the bloods of his various +ancestors were warring in his veins. His mother had been a full-blooded +Indian from Wyland Island, had drawn her four dollars every year from the +English Government, and ruled her family with an iron hand; his father +was Scotch-Irish, hot-blooded and jovial; Jerry-Jo was a composite +result. Handsome, moody, with flashes of fun when not crossed, a good +comrade at times, an unforgiving enemy. + +He liked Priscilla, but she was his inferior, by sex, and she sorely +needed discipline. He meant to keep her in her place, so he kept on +reading. Priscilla at length, however, attracted his attention. + +"Hey-ho, Jerry-Jo!" + +"Hullo!" + +"Where did you get the book?" + +"It's for him up yonder." + +And with this Jerry-Jo stood up, turned and twisted his lithe body into +such a grotesque distortion that he was quite awful to look upon, and +left no doubt in the girl's mind as to whom he referred. He brought the +Far Hill people into focus, sharply and suddenly. + +"He has miles of books," Jerry-Jo went on, "and a fiddle and pictures and +gewgaws. He plays devil tunes, and he's bewitched!" + +This description made the vague boy of the woods real and vital for the +first time in Priscilla's life, and she shuddered. Then Jerry-Jo +generously offered to lend her one of the books until his father came +back, and Priscilla eagerly stepped from stone to stone until she could +reach the volume. Once she had obtained the prize she went back to the +garden and made herself comfortable, wholly forgetting Jerry-Jo and the +world at large. + +It was the oddest book she had ever seen. The words were arranged in +charming little rows, and when you read them over and over they sang +themselves into your very heart. They told you, lilting along, of a road +that no one but you ever knew--a road that led in and out through wonders +of beauty and faded at the day's end into your heart's desire. Your +Heart's Desire! + +And just then Jerry-Jo cried: + +"Hey, there! you, Priscilla, come down with that book." + +"Your Heart's Desire!" Priscilla's eyes were misty as she repeated the +words. Indeed, one large, full tear escaped the blue eyes and lay like a +pitiful kiss on the fair page, where there was a broad, generous space +for tears on either side of the lines. + +"Hist! Father's coming!" + +Then Priscilla stood up and a demon seemed to possess her. + +"I'm not going to give it back to you! It's mine!" she cried shrilly. + +Jerry-Jo made as if he were about to dash up the path and annihilate her, +but she stayed him by holding the book aloft and calling: + +"If you do I'll throw it in the Channel!" She looked equal to it, too, +and Jerry-Jo swore one angry word and stopped short. Then the girl's mood +changed. Quite gently and noiselessly she ran to Jerry-Jo and held the +opened book toward him. His keen eye fell upon the tear-stain, but his +coarser nature wrongly interpreted it. + +"You imp!" he cried; "you spat upon it!" + +But Priscilla shook her head. "No--it's a tear," she explained; "and, oh! +Jerry-Jo, it is mine--listen!--you cannot take it away from me." + +And standing there upon the rock she repeated the words of the poem, her +rich voice rising and falling musically, and poor Jerry-Jo, hypnotized by +that which he could not comprehend, listened open-mouthed. + + * * * * * + +And now, again, it was spring and Priscilla was fourteen. Standing in the +garden path, her yoke across her shoulders, her ears straining at the +sound she heard, the old poem returned to her as it had not for years. +She faltered over the words at the first attempt, but with the second +they rushed vividly to her mind and seemed set to the music of that +"pat-pat-pat" sound on the water. An unaccountable excitement seized +her--that new but thrilling sense of nearness and kinship to life and the +lovely meaning of spring. She was no longer a little girl looking on at +life; she was part of it; and something was going to happen after the +long shut-in winter! + +And presently the McAlpin boat came in sight around Lone Tree Island +and in it stood Jerry-Jo quite alone, paddling straight for the +landing-place! For a moment Priscilla hardly knew him. The winter +had worked a wonder upon him. He was almost a man! He had the manners, +too, of his kind--he ignored the girl on the rocks. + +But he had seen her; seen her before she had seen him. He had noted +the wonderful change in her, for eighteen is keen about fourteen, +particularly when fourteen is full of promise and belongs, in a +sense, to one. + +The short, ugly frock Priscilla wore could not hide the beauty and grace +of her young body--the winter had wiped out forever her awkward length of +limb. Her reddish hair was twisted on the top of her head and made her +look older and more mature. Her uplifted face had the shining radiancy +that was its chief charm, and as Jerry-Jo looked he was moved to +admiration, and for that very reason he assumed indifference and gave +undivided attention to his boat. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +With skill and grace Jerry-Jo steered his boat to the landing-place at +the foot of the garden. He leaped out and tied the rope to the ring in +the rocks, then he waited for Priscilla to pay homage, but Priscilla was +so absorbed with her own thoughts that she overlooked the expected +tribute of sex to sex. At last Jerry-Jo stood upright, legs wide apart, +hands in pockets, and, with bold, handsome face thrown back, cried: + +"Well, there!" + +At this Priscilla started, gave a light laugh, and readjusting her yoke, +walked down to the young fellow below. + +"It's Jerry-Jo," she said slowly, still held by the change in him; "and +alone!" + +"Yes." Jerry-Jo gave a gleaming smile that showed all his strong, white +teeth--long, keen teeth they were, like the fangs of an animal. + +"Where are the others?" asked Priscilla. + +"Uncle's dead," the boy returned promptly and cheerfully; "dead, and a +good thing. He was getting cranky." + +Priscilla started back as if the mention of death on that glorious day +cast a cloud and a shadow. + +"And your father, Jerry-Jo, is he, too, dead?" + +"No. Dad, he is in jail!" + +"In--jail!" Never in her life before had Priscilla known of any one being +in Kenmore jail. The red, wooden house behind its high, stockade fence +was at once the pride and relic of the place. To have a jail and never +use it! What more could be said for the peaceful virtues of a community? + +"Yes. Dad's in jail and in jail he will stay, says he, till them as put +him there begs his pardon humble and proper." + +Priscilla now dropped the yoke upon the rocks and gave her entire thought +to Jerry-Jo, who, she could see, was bursting with importance and a sense +of the dramatic. + +"What did your father do, Jerry-Jo?" + +"It was like this: Uncle Michael died and the wake we had for him was the +most splendid you ever saw. Bottles and kegs from the White Fish and +money to pay for all, too! Every one welcome and free to say his say and +drink his fill. I got drunk myself! Long about midnight Big Hornby he +said as how he once licked Uncle Michael, and Dad he cried back that to +blacken a man's name when he was too dead to stand up for it was a dirty +trick, and so it was! Then it was forth and back for a time, with +compliments and what not, and if you please just as Dad sent a bit of a +stool at Big Hornby, who should come in at the door but Mr. Schoolmaster, +him as had no invite and was not wanted! The stool took him full on the +arm and broke it--the arm--and folks took sides, and some one, after a +bit, got Dad from under the pile and tried to make him beg pardon! Beg +pardon at his own wake in his own home, and Schoolmaster taking chances +coming when he was not invited! Umph!" + +Jerry-Jo's eyes flashed superbly. + +"'I'll go to jail first and be damned,' said Dad, and that put it in the +mind of Big Hornby, and he up and says, 'To jail with him!' And so they +takes Dad, thinking to scare him, and claps him into jail, not even +mending the lock or nailing up the boards. That's three days since, and +yesterday Hornby he comes to Dad and says as how a steamer was in with +mail and freight and who was to carry it around? And Dad says as how I +was a man now and could hold up the honour of the family, says he, and +moreover, says Dad, 'I'll neither eat nor come out till you come to your +senses and beg pardon for mistaking a joke for an insult!'" + +Jerry-Jo paused to laugh. Then: + +"So here am I with the boatload--there's a box of seeds for your +father--and then I'm off to the Hill Place, for them as stays there has +come, and there are boxes and packages for them as usual." + +Jerry-Jo proceeded to extract Mr. Glenn's box from the boat, and +Priscilla, her clear skin flushed with excitement, drew near to examine +the cargo. + +"More books!" she gasped. "Oh, Jerry-Jo, do you remember the first book?" + +"Do I?" Jerry-Jo had shouldered the box of seeds and now bent upon the +girl a glad, softened look. + +"Do I? You was a wild thing then, Priscilla. And I told him about the +slob of a tear and he laughed in his big, queer way, and he said, I +remember well, that by that token the book was more yours than his, and +he wanted me to carry it back, but I knew what was good for you, and I +would not! See here, Priscilla, would you like to have a peek at this?" +And then Jerry-Jo put his burden down, and, returning to the boat, drew +from under the seat a book in a clean separate wrapper and held it out +toward her. + +"Oh!" The hands were as eager as of old. + +"What will you give for it?" A deep red mounted to the young fellow's +cheeks. + +"Anything, Jerry-Jo." + +"A--kiss?" + +"Yes"--doubtfully; "yes." + +The book was in the outstretched hands, the hot kiss lay upon the smooth, +girlish neck, and then they looked at each other. + +"It--is _his_ book?" + +"No. Yours--I sent for it, myself." + +"Oh! Jerry-Jo. And how did you know?" + +"I copied it from that one of his." + +Priscilla tore the wrappings asunder and saw that the book was a +duplicate of the one over which, long ago, she had loved and wept. + +"Thank you, Jerry-Jo," the voice faltered; "but I wish it--had the tear +spot." + +"That was _his_ book; this is yours." An angry light flashed in +Jerry-Jo's eyes. He had arranged this surprise with great pains and had +used all his savings. + +"But it cannot be the same, Jerry-Jo. Thank you--but----" + +"Give us another kiss?" The young fellow begged. + +Priscilla drew back and held out the book. + +"No." She was ready to relinquish the poems, but she would not buy them. + +"Keep the book--it's yours." + +Jerry-Jo scowled. And then he shouldered the box and ran up the path. +When he came back Priscilla was gone, and the spring day seemed +commonplace and dull to Jerry-Jo; the adventure was over. Priscilla had +filled her pails and had carried them and the book to the house. +Something had happened to her, also. She was out of tune with the +sunlight and warmth; she wanted to get close to life again and feel, as +she had earlier, the kinship and joy, but the mood had passed. + +It was after the dishes of the midday meal were washed that she bethought +her of the old shrine back near the woods. It was many a day since she +had been there--not since the autumn before--and she felt old and +different, but still she had a sudden desire to return to it and try +again the mystic rite she had practised when she was a little girl. It +was like going back to play, to be sure; all the sacredness was gone, but +the interest remained, and her yearning spurred her to her only resource. + +At two o'clock Nathaniel was off to a distant field, and Theodora +announced that she must walk to the village for a bit of "erranding." She +wanted Priscilla to join her, thinking it would please the girl, but +Priscilla shook her head and pleaded a weariness that was more mental +than physical. At three o'clock, arrayed in a fresh gown, over which hung +a red cape, Priscilla stole from the house and made her way to the +opening near the woods. As she drew close the power of suggestion +overcame the new sense of age and indifference; the witchery of the place +held her; the old charm reasserted itself; she was being hypnotized by +the Past. Tiptoeing to the niche in the rock she drew away the sheltering +boughs and branches she had placed there one golden September day. The +leaves had been red and yellow then; they were stiff and brown now. The +leering skull confronted her as it had in the past and changed her at +once to the devotee. + +Before the dead thing the live, lovely creature bowed gravely. After all, +had not the image, instead of God, answered her first prayer? Nathaniel's +heart had not been softened and school had not been permitted, but there +had been lessons given by the master when she told him of her new god. +How he had laughed, clapping his knees with his long, thin, white hands! +But he had taught her on hillside and woodland path. No one knew this but +themselves and the strange idol! + +A rapt look spread over Priscilla's face; the look of the worshipper who +could lose self in a passion. But this was no dread god that demanded +unlovely sacrifice. It was a glad creature that desired laughter, song, +and dance. Priscilla had seen to that. A repetition of her father's creed +would have been unendurable. + +"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +Again the deep and sweeping courtesy and chanting of the weird words. The +final "dosh!" held, in its low, fierce tone, all the significance of +abject adoration. With that "dosh" had the child Priscilla wooed the +favour and recognition of the god. It was a triumph of appeal. + +And then the dance began--the wild, fantastic steps full of grace and joy +and the fury and passion of youth. Round and round spun the slight form, +with arms over head or spread wide. The red cape floated, rising and +falling; the uplifted face changed with every moment's flitting thought. +It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan, and yet divine, +and through it all, panting and pulsing, sounded the strange, +incomprehensible words: + +"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +While the rite was at high tide a young fellow, lying prone under a +clump of trees beyond the open space, looked on, first in amaze mingled +with amusement, and then with delight and admiration. He had never +seen anything at once so heathenish and so exquisite. To one hampered +and restricted as he was in bodily freedom, the absolute grace was +marvellous, but the uncanny words and the girl's apparent seriousness +gave a touch of unreality to the scene. Presently, from sheer inability +to further control himself, the looker-on gave a laugh that rent the +stillness of the afternoon like a cruel shock. + +Priscilla, horrified, paused in the midst of a wild whirl and listened, +her eyes dilating, her nostrils twitching. She waited for another burst +that would make her understand. + +Having given vent to that one peal of mirth, Richard Travers pulled +himself to a sitting position, and, by so doing, presented his head and +shoulders to the indignant eyes of Priscilla Glenn. + +"Oh!" cried she; "how dare you!" + +And now Travers got rather painfully upon his feet, and, with fiddle +under one arm and book under the other, came forward into the open and +inclined his uncovered head. He was twenty then, fair and handsome, and +in his gray eyes shone that kindliness that was doomed later on to bring +him so much that was both evil and good. + +"I beg your pardon. I did not know I was on sacred ground. I just +happened here, you see, and I could not help the laugh; it was the only +compliment I could pay for anything so lovely--so utterly lovely." + +Priscilla melted at once and fear fled. Not for an instant did she +connect this handsome fellow with the crooked wrongdoer of the Hill +Place. Jerry-Jo's long-ago description had been too vivid to be +forgotten, and this stranger was one to charm and win confidence. + +"Will you--oh! please do--let me play for you? You dance like a nymph. Do +you know what a nymph is?" + +Priscilla shook her head. + +"Well, it's the only thing that can dance like you; the only thing that +should ever be allowed to dance in the woods. Come, now, listen sharp, +and as I play, keep step." + +Leaning against a strong young hemlock, Dick Travers placed his fiddle +and struck into a giddy, tuneful thing as picturesque as the time and +occasion. With head bent to one side and eyes and lips smiling, Priscilla +listened until something within her caught and responded to the tripping +notes. At first she went cautiously, feeling her way after the enchanted +music, then she gained courage, and the very heart of her danced and +trembled in accord. + +"Fine! fine! Now--slower; see it's the nymph stepping this way and that! +Forward, so! Now!" + +And then, exhausted and laughing madly, Priscilla sank down upon a rock +near the musician, who, seeing her worn and panting, played on, without +a word, a sweet, sad strain that brought tears to the listener's +eyes--tears of absolute enjoyment and content. She had never heard music +before in all her bleak, colourless life, and Dick Travers was no mean +artist, in his way. + +"And now," he said presently, sitting down a few feet from her, "just +tell me who you are and what in the world prompts you to worship, so +adorably, that hideous brute over there?" + +Between fourteen and twenty lies a chasm of age and experience that +ensures patronage to one and dependence to the other. Travers felt aged +and protecting, but Priscilla grew impish and perverse; besides, she +always intuitively shielded her real self until she capitulated entirely. +This was a new play, a new comrade, but she must be cautious. + +"I--I have no name--he made me!" She nodded toward the grinning skull. +"On bright sunny afternoons in spring, when flowers and green things are +beginning to live, he lets me dance, once in a great while, so that I can +keep alive!" + +Priscilla, with this, gave such a beaming and mischievous smile that +Travers was bewitched. + +"You----" But he did not put his thought into words; he merely gave smile +for smile, and asked: + +"Did he teach you to dance?" + +"No. The dance is--is me! That's why he likes me. He's so dead that he +likes to see something that is alive." + +"The whole world would adore you could it see you as I just have!" + +Then Travers, with the artist's eye, wondered how dark hair could +possibly hold such golden tints, and how such a dark face could make +lovely the blue, richly lashed eyes. He knew she must be from Lonely +Farm--Jerry-Jo used to speak of her; lately he had said nothing, to be +sure, but this certainly must be the child who had once cried over a +book of his. Poor, little, temperamental beggar! + +"Come up and deliver!" Travers gave a laugh. "I'm Robin Hood and I want +you to explain yourself. Why do you bow down before that brazen and +evil-looking brute?" + +Priscilla hugged her knees in her clasped hands, and said, on the +defence: + +"He's the only god that answered my prayer. I tried father's God and--it +didn't work! Then I fixed up this one, and--it did!" + +"What was it you wanted?" + +"I wanted to learn things! I wanted to go to school. I prayed to have +father's heart softened, but it stayed--rocky. Then I began to worship +this"--the right hand waved toward the bleached and grinning skull--"and +my wish came true. I told the schoolmaster. Do you know Mr. Anton +Farwell?" + +"I've heard of him." + +"I told him I wanted to learn, and after he got through laughing he said +he'd been sent by my god to teach me all I wanted to know; but of course +he can't do that!" + +"Do what?" Travers was fascinated by the child's naïvety. + +"Teach me all I want to know. Why, I'm going to suffer and know many +things!" + +"Good Lord!" ejaculated Travers; "you won't mind if I laugh?" + +"I don't think there's anything to laugh at!" Priscilla held him sternly. +"Have you ever suffered?" + +The laugh died from Travers's face. + +"Suffered!" he repeated. "Yes! yes!" + +"Well, doesn't it pay--when you get what you want and know things?" + +"Why, see here, youngster--it does! You've managed to dig out of your +life quite a brilliant philosophy, though I suppose you do not know what +that is. It's holding to your ideal, the thing that seems most worth +while, and forcing everything else into line with that. Now, you see I +had a bad handicap--a clutch on me that made me a weak, sickly fellow, +but through it all I kept my ideal." + +Priscilla was listening bravely. She was following this thought as she +had the music; something in her was responding. She did not speak, and +Travers went on talking, more to himself than to her. + +"Always before the poor thing I really was, walked the fine thing I would +be. I _thought_ myself straight and strong and clean. Lord! how it hurt +sometimes; but I grew, after a time, into something approaching the ideal +going on before me, thinking high and strong thoughts, forgetting the +meannesses and aches--do you understand?" + +This was a fairy story to the listener. Rigid and spellbound she replied: + +"Yes. And that's what I've been doing--and nobody knew. I've just been +working hard for that _me_ of _me_ that I always see. I don't care what +I have to suffer, but--" the throbbing words paused--"I'm going to know +what--it is all about!" + +"It?" Again Travers was bewildered and bound. + +"Yes. Life and me and what we mean. I'm not going to stay here; when the +lure of the States gets me I'm--going!" + +Things were getting too tense, and Travers yielded to a nervous impulse +to laugh again. This brought a frown to Priscilla's brow. + +"Forgive me!" he pleaded. "And now see here, little pagan, let us make +a compact. Let us keep our ideals; don't let anything take them from us. +Is it a go?" + +He stretched his hand out, and the small, brown one lay frankly in it. + +"And we'll come here and--and worship before that fiend, just you and I? +And we won't ever tell?" + +Priscilla nodded. + +"And now will you dance once more, just once?" + +The girl bounded from the rock, and before the bow struck the strings she +was poised and ready. Then it was on again, that strange, wild game. The +notes rang clear and true, and as true tripped the twinkling feet. With +head bent and eyes riveted on the graceful form, Travers urged her on by +word and laugh, and he did not heed a shadow which fell across the +sunlighted, open space, until Priscilla stopped short, and a deep voice +trembling with emotion roared one word: + +"You!" + +There stood Nathaniel Glenn, his face twitching with anger and something +akin to fear. How much he had heard no one could tell, but he had heard +and seen enough to arouse alarm and suspicion. In his hand was a long +lash whip, and, as Priscilla did not move, he raised it aloft and sent it +snapping around the rigid figure. + +It did not touch her, but the act called forth all the resentment and +fierce indignation of the young fellow who looked on. + +"Stop!" he shouted. Then, because he sought for words to comfort and +could think of no others, he said to Priscilla, "Don't let them kill your +ideal; hold to it in spite of everything!" + +"Yes," the words came slowly, defiantly, "I'm going to!" + +"Go!" Nathaniel was losing control. "Go--you!" + +Then, as if waking from sleep, the girl turned, and with no backward +look, went her way, Nathaniel following. + +Travers, exhausted from the excitement, stretched himself once more upon +the mossy spot from which Priscilla had roused him. He was sensitive to +every impression and quivering in every nerve. + +What he had witnessed turned him ill with loathing and contempt. +Brutality in any form was horrible to him, and the thought of the pretty, +spiritual child under the control of the coarse, stern man was almost +more than he could bear. Then memory added fuel to the present. It was +that man who had conjured up some kind of opposition to his mother--had +made living problems harder for her until she had won the confidence of +others. The man must be, Travers concluded, a fanatic and an ignoramus, +and to think of him holding power over that sprite of the woods! + +He could not quite see how he might help the girl, but, lying there, her +dancing image flitting before his pitying eyes, he meant to outwit the +rough father in some way, and bring into the child's life a bit of +brightness. Then he smiled and his easy good nature returned. + +"I'll get her to dance for me, never fear! I'll teach her to love music, +and I'll tell her stories. I must get her to explain about the lure of +the States. What on earth could the little beggar have meant? It sounded +as if she thought America had some sinister clutch on the Dominion. And +those infernal-sounding words!" + +Travers shook with laughter. "That '_dosh_' was about the most +blasphemous thing I ever listened to. In a short space of time that child +managed to cram in more new ideas, words, and acts than any one I've ever +met before. I shouldn't wonder if she proves a character." + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The day of warmth and song and dance changed to a cool evening. There was +a glowing sunset which faded into a clear, starry night. + +Dick Travers, encased in a heavy sweater, lingered, after the light +failed, on the broad piazza facing the still purpled sky, and looked out +toward the Georgian Bay, which was hidden from sight by the ridge of hill +through which the Fox and Secret Portages cut. The mood of the afternoon +had fallen, as had the day, into calmness and restfulness. The fiddle, +which was never far from Travers, lay now beside him on the deep porch +swing, and every few moments he took it up and began an air that broke +off almost at once, either to run into another, or into silence. + +"Choppy," muttered Doctor Ledyard as he sat across the hearth from his +hostess and looked now at her fair, tranquil face and then at the +cheerful fire of hemlock boughs. + +"He's always happiest when he's--choppy." Helen Travers smiled. "I wonder +why I take your words as I take your pills, without question?" + +"You know what's good for you." + +"And so you really think there is no doubt about Dick? He can enter +college this fall?" + +"As sure as any man can be. He'll always be a trifle lame probably, +though that will be less noticeable when he learns to forget the cane and +crutch periods; as for his health--it's ripping, for him!" + +"How wonderful you have been; what a miracle you have performed. When I +recall----" + +"Don't, Helen! It's poor business retracing a hard road unless you go +back to pick something up." + +"That's why--I must go back. Doctor Ledyard, I must tell you something! +Now that Dick's semi-exile and mine are to end in the common highway, he +and--you must know why I have done many things--will you listen?" + +From under Ledyard's shaggy brows his keen eyes flashed. There had been +a time when he had hoped Helen Travers would love him; he had loved +her since her husband's death, but he had never spoken, for he knew +intuitively that to do so would be to risk the only thing of which he +was, then, sure--her trusting friendship. He had not dared put that to +the test even for the greater hope. That was why he had been able to +share her lonely life in the Canadian wilds--she had never been disturbed +by a doubt of him. And this comradeship, safe and assured, was the one +luxury he permitted himself in a world where he was looked upon as a +hard, an almost cruel, man. + +"I do not want you to tell anything in order to explain your actions +now, or ever. I am confident that under all circumstances you would act +wisely. You are the most normal woman I ever knew." + +"Thank you. But I still must speak--more for Dick than for you. I need +your help for him." + +Outside, the fiddle was repeating again and again a nocturne that Helen +particularly loved. + +"Dick is not--my son!" she said quickly and softly from out the shadows. +She was rarely abrupt, and her words startled Ledyard into alertness. He +got up and drew his chair close to hers. + +"What did you say?" he whispered, keeping his eyes upon her lowered face. + +"I said--Dick is not my son." + +"And--whose is he--may I ask?" + +There was a tenseness in the question. Now that he saw the gravity of the +confession Ledyard wished beyond all else to cut quick and deep and then +bind up the wound. + +"He is the child of--my husband, and--another woman." + +In the hush that followed, Dick's fiddle, running now through a delicious +strain of melody, seemed like a current bearing them on. + +"Perhaps you had better--tell me," Ledyard was saying, and his words +blended strangely with the tune. "Yes, I am sure you ought to tell me." + +Helen Travers, sitting in her low wicker chair, did not move. Her +delicate face was resting on the tips of her clasped hands, and her long, +loose, white gown seemed to gather and hold the red glow of the fire. + +"I suppose I have done Dick a bitter wrong, but at first, you know, even +you thought he could not live and so it would not have mattered, and then +I--I learned to love the helpless little chap as women of my sort do who +have to make their own lives as best they may. He clung to me so +desparately, and, you see, as he grew older I either had to accept his +belief in me or--or--take his father from him. They were such close +friends, Dick's father and he! And now--I must lay everything low, and I +am wondering what will come of it all. He is such a strange fellow; our +life apart has left him--well, so different! How will he take it?" + +Whatever her own personal sorrow was, Helen Travers made no moan, exacted +no sympathy. She had come alone to the parting of the ways, and she had +thought only for the boy whom she had mothered tenderly and successfully. +Ledyard did not interrupt the gentle flow of her thoughts. There was +time; he would not startle or hurry her, although her first statement had +shocked and surprised him beyond measure. + +"I've always thought of myself as like one of those poor Asiatic +hornbills," she was saying. "It seems to me that all my life long some +one has walled me up in a nice, safe nest and fed me through my longings +and desires. I cannot get to life first hand. I'm not stupid exactly, but +I am terribly limited." Helen paused, then went on more rapidly: "First +it was my father. He and I travelled after mother's death continually, +and alone. He educated me and interpreted life for me; he was a man of +the world, I suppose, but he managed to keep me most unworldly wise. Of +course I knew, abstractly, the lights and shadows; but I wonder if you +will believe me when I tell you that, until after my marriage, I never +suspected that--that certain codes of honour and dishonour had place in +the lives of those closest to me? The evil of the world was classified +and pigeon-holed for me. I even had ambition to get out of my walled-up +condition and help some mystical people, detached and far from my safe, +clean corner. Father left me more money than was good for any young +woman, and my simple impulse was to use it properly." + +"You were very young?" Ledyard interrupted. + +Helen Travers shook her head. + +"Not very. I was twenty-four when I married. I had never had but one +intimate friend in my life, and to her I went at my father's death. It +was her brother I married--John Travers." + +Ledyard nodded his head; he knew of the Traverses--the older generation. + +"This thing concerning Dick occurred some three or four years before my +marriage. My wedding was a very quiet one; it was not reported, and that +accounted for Dick's mother--Elizabeth Thornton--not knowing of it. + +"It seems that there had been an alliance between John Travers and--and +Dick's mother, and it had been terminated some time before he met me, by +mutual consent. There was the child--Dick. The mother took him. There was +no question of money: there was enough for them, but she had told John +that should anything arise, such as illness or disaster, she would call +upon him. They had sworn that to each other. + +"Well, my own baby came a year after my marriage and died a month later. +When I was least able to bear the shock, the call came from Elizabeth +Thornton. John had to tell me. I shall never forget his face as he did +it. I realized that his chief concern was for me, and even in all the +wreck and ruin I could but honour him for his bravery and sincerity. I +think he believed I would understand, but I never did; I never shall. The +shock was more surprise than moral resentment. I could not believe at +first that such a thing could possibly happen to--one of my own. I felt +as if a plague had fallen upon me, and I shrank from every eye, from +every touch with the world. + +"Doctor Ledyard, you can understand, I hope, but John Travers was not a +bad man, and that girl, Dick's mother, was good. Yes; that's the only +word to use, strange as it seems to me even after all these years. You +see, she was not a hornbill. She came in touch with life at first hand; +she took from life what she wanted; she had, what were to me, unheard-of +ideas about love and the free gift of self, and yet she never meant to +hurt any one; and she had kept herself, amid all the confusion, the +gentlest and sweetest of souls. + +"When she sent for John she was dying and she did not know what to do +about the boy. She had no family--no near friend. + +"I went with my husband to see her. There did not seem to be anything +else to do. I had no feeling; it was plain duty. Even with the touch of +death upon her, Elizabeth Thornton was the most beautiful woman I have +ever seen. I cannot describe the sensation she made upon me; but she was +like an innocent, pure child who had played with harmful and soiled toys +but had come wearily to the day's end, herself unsullied. + +"When she knew about me she was broken-hearted. She wept and called to +little Dick, who sat in a small chair by her couch: + +"'Oh! little son, we could have managed, couldn't we? We would not have +hurt any one for the world, would we, sonny?' And the boy got up and +soothed her as a man might have done, and he was only a little creature. +I think I loved him from the moment I saw him shielding that poor, dying +mother from her own folly. 'Course, mummy, course!' he repeated over and +again. Then he looked at me with the eyes of my own dead baby. Both +children were startlingly like the father. The look pleaded for mercy +from me to them--John, the mother, and the little fellow himself. And I, +who had vaguely meant to help the world some day, began--with them! Just +for a little time after Elizabeth Thornton's death I became human, or +perhaps inhuman. I resented the wrong that had been done me; I wanted to +fling John and the child away from me; but then a sense of power rallied +me. I had never tasted it before. I could cast the helpless pair from me, +or--I could save them from the world and the world's hideous pity for me. +I accepted the burden laid upon me. I think John thought I would forget, +would forgive. I cannot explain--my sort of woman is never understood +by--well, John's sort of man. I am afraid he grew to have a contempt for +me, but I lived on loving them both, but never becoming able to meet +John's hope of me. I knew he was often lonely--I have pitied him +since--but I could not help being what I was. + +"I tried, but it was no use. We lived abroad for years, and little Dick +forgot--I am sure he forgot--his mother, and when I felt secure I gave +him all, all the passion and devotion of my life. + +"John died abroad; I came home with my crippled boy; came home to--you. +That is all!" + +Ledyard bent and laid a handful of boughs upon the fire. The room was +cold and cheerless, and the still, white figure in the chair seemed the +quiet, chill heart of it all. And yet--how she had loved and laboured for +the boy! Was she passionless or had her passion been killed while at +white heat? + +"And--and I suppose Dick must know?" + +"Yes. Dick must know." + +There was no sternness, but there was determination in the strong, even +voice. Then: + +"Helen, let me do this for you!" + +For a moment the uplifted eyes faltered and fell away from the man's +face. Very faintly the words came: + +"God bless you! I could not bear to see--him fail me. If he must--fail, +I cannot see him until--afterward." + +The blaze rose higher, and the dark room was a background for that +deathlike form before the hearth. + +Ledyard left the room silently, and a moment later Helen Travers heard +his heavy footfall on the porch outside. Presently the erratic violin +playing ceased and there seemed no sound on the face of the earth. + +After what seemed hours, Pine, the guide, entered the room to replenish +the fire, and Helen told him he need not light the lamps. After his going +another aching silence followed through which, at last, stole the +consciousness that she was not alone. Some one had come into the room +from a long window opening on the piazza. Helen dared not look, for if it +were Ledyard she would know that things were very bad indeed. Then came +the slightly dragging step that she had learned to be so grateful for +after the helplessness of crippled childhood. Still she did not move, nor +deeply hope. The boy was kind, oh! so tenderly kind, he might only have +come because he must! + +The red glow of the fire made the woman's form by the hearth vividly +distinct, and toward that Dick Travers went as if led by a gleam through +a new and strange experience. He knelt by her side and, for a moment, +buried his face against her clasped hands; then he looked up and she saw +only intensified love and trust upon his young face. She waited for him +to speak, her heart was choking her. + +"You thought, dear, that I did not know--that I had forgotten? I wonder +if any lonely, burdened little chap could forget--what came before you +lifted the load and taught me to be a--child? Oh! she was so sweet; such +a playfellow. I realize it now even though she has faded into something +like a shadowy dream. But I recall, too, the loneliness; the fear that +she might leave me alone with no one to care for me. I can remember her +fear, too; always the fear that one of us might leave the other alone. +The recollection will always stand out in my memory. I shall never forget +her nor her sweetness. Afterward you came and my father. Only lately have +I understood all of--that part of my life and yours--but I knew he was my +father, and I wondered about you, because I could _not_ forget--my +mother! + +"I learned to love you out of my great need and out of yours, too, I +realize now, and slowly, far too early, I saw that the happiest thing I +could do for you, who had given me so much, was to seem to forget and +rest only on one thought--you were my mother! Can I make you understand, +mother, what you are in my life--to-night?" + +He kissed the cold hands clutching his hot ones, and with that touch the +barrier broke down forever between them. Travers took her in his arms, +but she did not burden his young strength as the earlier mother had done. +Even in her abandon, they supported each other bravely. + + * * * * * + +The days that followed were busy ones. Dick's tutor came from New York, +plans were laid, and there was small opportunity, just then, for the +red-rock shrine. + +"You see," Dick said to Ledyard one afternoon, "I've never voiced it +before--it seemed presumptuous--but now that I'm going to have the life +of a fellow, I can choose a fellow's career. I want, more than anything +else, to be a physician." + +Ledyard's eyes flashed, but he lowered his lids. + +"It's a devil of a life, boy." + +"I think it's the finest of all." + +"No hours you can call your own; never daring to ask for the common +things a man cares for. You see, women are mostly too jealous and small +to understand a doctor's demands. They usually raise hell sooner or +later. I had a friend whose wife used to look through the keyhole of his +consulting-room door. A patient tripped over her once and it nearly cost +my friend his practice. Doctors are only half human anyway, and women +can't go halves with their husbands." + +Dick laughed. + +"Between a wife and a profession," he said, "give me the profession." + +"Besides," Ledyard went on; "you get toughened and brutal; most of us +drink, when we don't do something worse." + +"You don't." + +"How do you know?" + +"I do know, and I'm sure you wouldn't let any one else say that about +your associates; they're the noblest ever and you know it!" + +"Well, we're bound and gagged, and that's a fact. We're not given much +leeway. We are led up to a case and forced to carry out the rules. While +we're doctors we can't be men." + +Dick recalled that years later with a bitter sense of its truth! + +"All the same, if the profession will have me, I'll have it and thank +God. When I think of--well, of the little cuss I was, and of you--why, +I tell you, I cannot get too soon into harness. I'd like to specialize, +too. I've even gone so far as that." + +"Good Lord! In what?" + +"Oh, women and children, principally--putting them straight and strong, +you know." + +"Umph," grunted Ledyard. "Well, at the first you'll probably be thankful +to get any old case that needs tinkering." + +Dick Travers did not see Priscilla again that summer. After a while he +went to the rocks, and once he laid sacrilegious hands on the strange god +with a longing to smash the hideous skull, but in the end he left it and, +after a time, forgot the girl he had played for, even forgot the +fantastic dance, for his thoughts were of sterner stuff. + +There were guests at the Hill Place, too, for the first time that year, +and some entertainment. There were fishing, and in due season, hunting, +at which Ledyard excelled, and the family returned to the States earlier +than usual, owing to Dick's affairs. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Nathaniel Glenn had said some terrible things in Priscilla's presence the +evening of the day when he drove her before him while Richard Travers +implored her to hold to her ideal. Fortunately, youth spared Priscilla +from a full understanding of her father's words, but she caught the drift +of his thought. She was convinced that he feared greatly for her here on +earth, and had grave doubts as to her soul's ultimate salvation. There +was that within her, so he explained, which, unless curbed and corrected, +would cast her into eternal damnation! Those were Nathaniel's words. + +"She looked a very devil as she danced and smirked at that strange +fellow," so had Glenn described the scene; "a man she says she had never +laid eyes on before! A daughter of Satan she seemed, with all the +witchcraft of her sort." To Nathaniel, that which he could not +understand, was wrong. + +Theodora spoke not a word. Certain facts from all the evidence stood +forth and alarmed her as deeply--though not as bitterly--as they did her +husband. There certainly was a daring and brazenness in a young girl +carrying on so before a total stranger. In all the conversation the name +of the stranger was not mentioned, and oddly enough Priscilla did not +even then connect her friend of the music and laughter with the boy of +the Hill Place. How could she, when Jerry-Jo's description still stood +unchallenged in her mind? Indeed, the stranger did not seem wholly of the +earth, earthy. She had accepted him as another phase evolved by the +mysterious rite--a new revelation of the strange god. + +From all the torrent of misinterpretation Nathaniel gave vent to, one +startling impression remained in Priscilla's mind. Sitting in the bare, +unlovely kitchen of the farmhouse, with her troubled parents confronting +her, a great wave of realization overpowered the girl. She could never +make them understand! There was no need to try. She did not really belong +to them, or they to her, and she must--get away! + +That was it, of course. The lure had caught her. They all felt as she +was now feeling--the Hornbys, all the boys and men who left Kenmore. +Something always drove them to see they must go, and that was what the +lure meant. + +Priscilla laughed. + +As usual, this angered Nathaniel beyond control. + +"You--laugh--you! Why do you laugh?" + +Priscilla leaned back in her hard wooden chair. + +"The lure's got me!" she panted. + +"The--lure?" + +"Yes. It means getting away. You have to follow the lure and find your +true place. Some people are put in the wrong place--then the lure gets +them!" + +At this Theodora gave a moan of understanding. They had driven the child +too far, been too hard upon her, and the impulse to fly from the love +that was seeking to hold her was the one thing to be avoided. + +"I'm tired of things. Once I wanted to go to school, but you wouldn't let +me." The blazing eyes were fixed upon Nathaniel. "You're always trying +to--to hold me back from--from--my life! I want to go away somewhere! +I want"--a half-sob shook the fierce, young voice--"I want to be part +of--things, and you--you won't let me! I hate this--this place; I'm +choking to death!" + +And with this Priscilla got up and flung her arms over her head, while +she ejaculated fiercely: "I want to be--doshed!" + +The effect of this outburst upon the two listeners was tremendous. +Theodora recognized with blinding terror that her daughter was no longer +a child! The knowledge was like a stroke that left her paralyzed. What +could she hope to do with, and for, this new, strange creature in whose +young face rising passion and rebellion were suddenly born? Nathaniel was +awed, too, but he managed to utter the command: "Leave the room, hussy!" + +When the parents were alone they took stock of the responsibility that +was laid upon them. Helplessly Theodora began to cry. She could no more +cope with this situation than a baby. She had never risen above or beyond +the dead level of Kenmore life, and surely no Kenmore woman had ever +borne so unnatural a child. She feared hopelessly and tremblingly. + +With Nathaniel it was different. He was a hard man who had forced +himself, as he had others, along the one grim path, but he had the male's +inheritance of understanding of certain traits and emotions. Had any one +suggested to him that his girl had derived from him--not her colourless +mother--the desire for excitement through the senses, he would have flung +the thought madly from him. Men were men; women were women! Even if +temptation came to a girl, only a bad, an evil-natured girl would +recognize it and succumb. His daughter, Nathaniel firmly believed, was +marked for destruction, and he was frightened and aroused not only for +Priscilla herself but for his reputation and position. He had known +similar temptation; had overcome it. He understood, or thought he did! + +He gave the girl no benefit of doubt; his mind conceived things that +never had occurred. He believed she had often met the young fellow from +the Hill Place. God alone knew what had gone before! + +"What shall we do?" sobbed Theodora. "We cannot make a prisoner of her; +we cannot watch her every move--and she's only a bit over fourteen!" + +Had the girl died that night Nathaniel would not have mourned her, he +would have known only relief and gratitude. + +"She was unwelcomed," he muttered to his weeping wife; "and she has +become a curse to us. It lies with us to turn the punishment into our +souls' good; but what can we do for her?" + +Priscilla did not die that night. She slept peacefully and happily with +the red, pulsing planet over the hemlock shining faithfully upon her. The +next day she reappeared before her parents with a cloudless face and a +willingness to make such amends as could be brought about without too +much self-abnegation. In the broad light of day the mother could not hold +to the horrors of the evening before. She had been nervous and +overwrought; it wasn't so bad as they had thought! + +"I want you to go erranding," she said to Priscilla soon after the midday +meal and by way of propitiation. "It's one by the clock now. Given an +hour to go, another to return, and a half hour for the buying, you should +be back by four at the latest." + +Priscilla looked laughingly up at her mother, "Funny, little mother," she +said; "he's made you afraid of me. Hadn't you better tie a string to my +foot?" But all the time the girl was thinking. "An hour for both going +and coming will be enough, and that will leave an hour for the +schoolmaster." + +Aloud she said: "I was fiercely angry last night, mother, for he read me +wrong and would not believe me, but it made me feel the _lure_; it really +did." + +"You must never speak so again, child," Theodora replied, thinking she +was impressing the girl; "and, Priscilla, what did you mean by saying you +wanted to be--be doshed? That was the most unsanctified word I ever +heard. What does it mean? Where did you learn it?" + +At this Priscilla doubled over with laughter but managed to say: + +"Why, it means just--doshed! Haven't you ever wanted to be doshed, +mother, when you were young, and before father took the dosh out of +you?" + +Theodora was again overcome by former fears, and to confirm her terror +Priscilla sprang toward her with outstretched, gripping fingers and wide, +eager eyes. + +"It means," she breathed, advancing upon her mother's retreating form, +"it means skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +At this she had her mother by the shoulders and was seeking to kiss the +affrighted and appalled face. + +Theodora escaped her, and realized that a changeling had indeed entered +her home. An unknown element was here. It was as if, having been +discovered, Priscilla felt she no longer needed to hide her inner self, +but was giving it full sway. + +If they could only have known that the spring of imagination and joy +had been touched in the girl and merely the madness of youth and the +legitimate yearning for expression moved her! But Theodora did not +understand and she tried to be stern. + +"You are to be back in this house at four!" she cried; "at quarter after +at the latest." + +So Priscilla started forth. The mother watched her from the doorway. +Suspicion was in her heart; she feared the girl would turn toward the +woods; she was prepared for that, but instead, the flying figure made for +the grassy road leading to Kenmore and was soon lost to sight. + +Three miles of level road, much of it smooth, moss-covered rock, was +easy travelling for nimble feet and a glad heart. And Priscilla was +the gladdest creature afield that day. Impishly she was enjoying the +sensation she had created. It appealed to her dramatic sense and animal +enjoyment. In some subtle fashion she realized she had balked and +defeated her father--she was rather sorry about her mother--but that +could be remedied later on. There was no doubt that she had the whip hand +of Nathaniel at last, and the subconscious attitude of defiance she +always held toward her father was strengthened by the knowledge that +he was unjustly judging her. + +There were many things of interest in Kenmore that only limited time +prevented Priscilla from investigating. She longed to go to the jail and +see if the people had prevailed upon old Jerry McAlpin to discharge +himself. She admired Jerry's spirit! + +She wanted to call upon Mrs. Hornby and question her about Jamsie, her +last boy, who had succumbed to the lure of the States. She longed to know +the symptoms of one attacked by the lure. Then there was the White Fish +Lodge--she did so want to visit Mrs. McAdam. The annual menace of taking +Mrs. McAdams' license from her was man's talk just then, and Mrs. McAdam +was so splendid when her rights were threatened. On the village Green +she annually defended her position like a born orator. Priscilla had +heard her once and had never got over her admiration for the little, thin +woman who rallied the men to her support with frantic threats as to her +handling of their rights unless they helped her fight her battle against +a government bent upon taking the living from a "God-be-praised +widow-woman with two sons to support." + +It had all been so exactly to Priscilla's dramatic taste that she with +difficulty restrained herself from calling at the White Fish. + +There was a good hour to her credit when the erranding was finished and +the time needed for the home run set aside, so to the little cabin, built +beside the schoolhouse, she went with heavily loaded arms and an +astonishingly light heart. + +Since the day when Anton Farwell had undertaken Priscilla's +enlightenment, asserting that he had been ordained to do so by her god, +he had had an almost supernatural influence upon her thought. For her, +he was endowed with mystery, and, with the subtle poetry of the lonely +young, she deafened her ears to any normal explanation of the man. + +Reaching the cabin, she pushed gently against the door, knowing that if +it opened, Kenmore was free to enter. Farwell was in and, when Priscilla +stood near him, seemed to travel back from a far place before he saw her. +Farwell was an old-young man; he cultivated the appearance of age, but +only the very youthful were deceived. His long, dark hair fell about his +thin face lankly, and it was an easy matter, by dropping his head, to +hide his features completely. + +He was tall and, from much stooping over books or the work of his garden, +was round-shouldered. When he looked you fully in the face, which he +rarely did, it was noticed that his eyes were at once childishly friendly +and deathly sad. + +The older people of Kenmore had ceased to wonder about him. Having +accepted him, they let matters drop. To the children, to all helpless +animals, he was an enduring solace and power. When all else failed they +looked to him for solution. For this had Priscilla come. + +"To be sure!" cried Farwell at length. "It's Priscilla Glenn. Bad child! +It's many a day since we had a lesson. There! there! no excuses. Sit down +and--own up!" + +While he was speaking Farwell replenished the wood on the fire and +brushed the ashes from the hearth. Priscilla, in a chair, sat upright and +rather breathlessly wondered how she could manage all she wanted to say +and hear in the small space of time that was hers. + +Anton's back was toward her when she uttered her first question and the +words brought him to an upright position, facing her at once. + +"Mr. Farwell, where did you come from--I mean before the wreck?" + +For a moment the master looked as if about to spring forward to lock the +door and bar the windows. Real alarm was in his eyes. + +"Who told you to ask that?" he whispered. + +"No one. No one has to tell me questions; I have more of my own than I +can ask. I never thought before about you, Mr. Farwell, we're so used to +you, but now it's because of _me_. I want to know. Somebody has got to +help me--I feel it coming again." + +"Feel what coming?" Farwell sat limply down in the chair he had lately +occupied. + +"Why, the lure. It comes to the boys, Mr. Farwell. They just get it and +go off to the States, and it's come to me! I've always known it would. +You see, I've got to go away; not just now, but some time. I'm going out +through the Secret Portage. I'm going away, away to find my real place. +I'm going to do something--out where the States are. I hoped you came +from there; could tell me--how to go about it. Do you know, I feel as if +I had been dropped in Kenmore just to rest before I went on!" + +Farwell looked at the girl and something new and changed about her +startled him as it had her parents, but, being wiser, he felt no +antagonism. It was an amazing, an interesting thing. The girl had +suddenly developed: that was all. She was eager to try her wings at a +longer flight than any of her sex in Kenmore had ever before dreamed. It +was amusing even if it were serious. + +Years before, Farwell had discovered the girl's keen mind and her +quaint originality. As much for his own pleasure as her advantage he +had taught her as he had some of the other village children, erratically, +inconsequently, and here she was now demanding that he fit her out with +a chart for deep-sea sailing. + +How could he permit her to harbour, even for an idle moment, the idea of +leaving her shelter and going away? At this the thin, dark face grew +rigid and stern. But too well the man knew the folly of setting up active +opposition to any young thing straining against the door of a cage. +Better open the door even if a string on the leg or a clipped wing had +to be resorted to! + +"Did you ever see the States?" The tense voice was imploring. + +"Oh, yes. Why do you wish to go there?" + +"Why do the boys?" + +This was baffling. + +"Well, there was Mrs. Hornby's oldest boy, he went to the States, got the +worst of it, and came home to die. He did not find them happy places." + +"Yes, but all the other Hornbys went just the same, even Jamsie. It's the +chance, you know, the chance to try what's in you, even if you _do_ come +home and die! You never have a chance in Kenmore; and I don't mean to be +like my mother--like the other women. You see, Mr. Farwell, I'm willing +to suffer, but I _am_ going to know all I want to, and I am going to find +a place where I fit in, if I can." + +So small and ignorant did the girl look, yet so determined and keen, that +Farwell grew anxious. Evidently Nathaniel had borne too hard upon her, +borne to the snapping point, and she had, in her wild fashion, caught the +infection of the last going away--Jamsie Hornby's. It was laughable, but +pathetic. + +"What could you do?" Farwell leaned forward and gazed into the strange +blue eyes fixed upon him. + +"Dance. Have you ever seen me dance? Do you want to?" She was prepared to +prove herself. + +"Good Lord! no, no!" + +"Oh! I can dance. If some one would play for me--play on--on a fiddle, I +could dance all day and night. Wouldn't people pay for that?" + +This was serious business. By some subtle suggestion Priscilla Glenn had +introduced into the bare, cleanly room an atmosphere of danger, a curious +sense of unreality and excitement. + +"Yes--they do pay," Farwell said slowly; "but where in heaven's name did +you get such ideas?" + +The girl looked impishly saucy. She was making a sensation again and, +while Anton Farwell was not affected as her parents had been, he was +undoubtedly impressed. + +"It's this way: You have to sell what you've got until you get something +better. There isn't an earthly thing I can do but dance now; of course I +can learn. Don't you remember the nice story about the old woman who went +to market her eggs for to sell? Master Farwell, I'm like her, and my +dancing is my--egg!" + +She was laughing now, this unreasoning, unreasonable girl, and she was +laughing more at Farwell's perplexity than at her own glibness. She must +soon go, her time was growing short, but she was enjoying herself +immensely. + +Looking at her, Farwell was suddenly convinced of one overpowering fact: +Priscilla Glenn was destined for--living! Hers was one of those natures +that flash now and then upon a commonplace existence, a strange soul from +an unknown port, never resting until it finds its way back. + +"Poor little girl!" whispered Farwell, and then he talked to her. + +Would she let him go to her father and mother? + +"What's the use?" questioned Priscilla, and she told him of the +experience in the woods. "Father saw only evil when it was the most +beautiful thing that ever happened." + +Farwell saw a wider stretch and more danger. + +"But I will try, and anyway, Priscilla, if I promise to help you get +ready, will you promise me to do nothing without consulting me?" + +This the girl was ready enough to do. She was restless and defiant under +her new emotion, but intuitively she had sought Farwell because he had +before aided her and sympathized with her. Yes, she would confide in him. + +That night Farwell called at Lonely Farm. Followed by his two lean, ugly +sledge dogs he made his way to the barn where Nathaniel was doing the +evening's work. While the men talked, the dogs, behind the building, +fought silently and ferociously. Farwell had fed one before he left home +and a bitter jealousy lay between the animals. It was almost more than +one might hope that the master could influence Glenn or change his mind, +but Farwell did bring to bear an argument that, because nothing else +presented itself, swayed the father. + +"You cannot get the same results from all children," Farwell said, +looking afar and smiling grimly; "there's no use trying to make an +abnormal child into a normal one. Priscilla is like a wild thing of the +woods. You may tame her, if you go about it right; you'll never be able +to force her. She's kind and affectionate, but she cannot be fettered or +caged, without mischief being done. Better let her think she is having +her own way, or--she may take it!" + +"I'll break her will!" muttered Glenn. + +"And if you do--what then?" + +"She'll fall into line--women do! Their life takes it out of them. Once I +get her on the right track, she'll go straight enough. There's no other +way for her sex, thank God!" + +"She'd be a poor, despicable thing if she was cowed." Contempt rang in +Farwell's voice. + +"She'd serve her purpose." Glenn was so angry that he became brutal. +"Spirit ain't needed for her job." + +"Purpose? Job?" Farwell repeated. + +"Yes. Child-bearing; husband-serving. If they take to it naturally +they're all the better off; if they have to be brought to terms--well, +then----" + +Gradually the truth dawned upon Farwell, and his thin face flushed, while +in his heart he pitied Theodora Glenn and Priscilla. + +"I wish I'd kept to my first ideas!" Glenn was saying surlily, "and never +let the limb learn of you or another. I gave her her head and here we +are!" + +"Had she been taught regularly by some one better fitted than I she would +have done great credit to you. She has a bright mind and a vivid +imagination." + +To this Glenn made no response, but the energy with which he applied the +brush to his horse caused the animal to rear dangerously. + +"Come, come," Farwell continued; "better loosen the rein and let her run +herself out--she may settle happily after a bit. If you don't, she may +run farther than you know." + +"Run? Run where?" Nathaniel, safe from the horse's heels, glared at +Farwell. + +"To the States. There is no sex line on the border." + +"But there's good, plain law. I'd have her back and well cowed, if she +attempted that!" + +And then Farwell played his card. + +"See here, Mr. Glenn, you do not want to drive this girl of yours to--to +hell! Of course there is law and of course you have the whip hand while +Priscilla is in your clutch, but with a wit like hers, if she slipped +across the border she could lose herself so completely that neither your +hate nor legal power could ever find her. Do you want to drive her to +such lengths?" + +Some of the truth of what Farwell was saying dashed Glenn's temper with +fear. Hard and cruel as he was, he was not devoid of affection of a +clammy sort, and for an instant Priscilla as a helpless girl wandering +among strangers replaced Priscilla, the rebellious daughter, and pity +moved him. + +"Well, what do you suggest?" he asked grudgingly. + +"Simply this: You can trust me. Good Lord you surely can trust me with +her! Let me teach her and bring a little diversion into her life. What +she wants is what all young things want--freedom and fun--pure, simple +fun. Don't let her think you are expecting evil of her; let her alone!" + +The extent of Glenn's confusion may be estimated by the fact that he +permitted Priscilla thereafter to go, when she chose, to Kenmore and +learn of Farwell what Farwell chose to give her, and, for the first time +in the girl's life, she felt a glow of appreciation toward her father. + +With this new freedom she became happier, less restless, and her +admiration for Farwell knew no bounds. + +The schoolmaster managed to procure a violin and laboriously practised +upon it until an almost forgotten gift was somewhat restored. He did not +play as Travers did--he had only his ear to depend upon; he had never +been well taught--but his music sufficed to accompany Priscilla's nimble +feet, and it gave Farwell himself an added interest in his dull life. + +"She'll marry Jerry-Jo McAlpin some day," the schoolmaster thought at +times; "and have a brood of half-breeds--no quarter-breeds--and all this +joy and gladness will become a blurred, or blotted-out, background. Good +God!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Mrs. McAdam of the White Fish Lodge came out upon the village Green one +evening in late August and, in a loud voice, hailed Jerry McAlpin: + +"I've heard it said," called she, "that you, you Jerry McAlpin, are not +against the taking away of my license; not against the making of Kenmore +a teetotal town!" + +There was menace in the high-pitched voice; warning in the accusation. +But Jerry had not taken a drop to drink since his self-releasement from +jail (after an apology from Hornby), and he was uncannily clear headed. + +"I've said that same!" he replied, and stopped short in his walk. + +Two or three other men, followed by dogs, paused to listen. Then a boat, +coming in loaded with fish, tied up to the wharf, and the crew, leaning +over the sides, waited for developments. + +"And for why?" called Mary, hands on hips and her sharp eyes blazing. + +"For this: The drink turns us mad! I'm late finding it out, but I've +found it! It sent me to jail with my wits all afire. My boy drank that +night, drank like a young beast, and lay on the floor of the cabin, they +tell me, after I went away; and he only sixteen, and his dead uncle stark +there beside him for company!" + +By this time a goodly gathering was on the Green, and Mary was in her +element. + +"And so," she said calmly, waxing eloquent as her power grew, "you and +the like of you would take an honest woman's living from her, and she +a God-be-praised widow at that, because you can't control the beast in +yourselves and can't train the cubs of your kennels!" + +This was going to great lengths, and many a listener who sided with Mary +was chilled by her offensive words. + +"Come! come!" warned Hornby, the father of the recently lured Jamsie, +"them ain't exactly womanly terms, are they?" + +But Mary was on her high horse. Availing herself of the safety her sex +secured for her, she struck left and right without grace or favour, and +her audience gaped while they listened. + +"Oh, I know! 'Tis this year a dry town with me ruined, and it's next year +a wet town with McAlpin, Hornby, or another creature in trousers taking +my place; and after that there will be no more dry town for ever and +ever! It's not morals you are after, but a man-controlled tavern. Blast +ye!" A sneer marked Mary's thin, dark face. "You want your drinks and +your freedom, but you say you fear for your lads. Shame on you! Have +I no lads?" + +Silence. + +"Have I not trained them in the way they should go? Do I fear for them?" +A grave silence, and McAlpin glared at Hornby, while an irreverent youth, +with a fish dangling from his hands, laughed and muttered: + +"Like gorrems!" + +"Play a man's part, Jerry McAlpin. 'Tis not for Jerry-Jo you fear; it's +my business you'd get from me, and you know it! Teach that lad of yours +to be decent, as I've trained mine. I have no fear for my boys! I know +what I'm talking about, and I tell you now, if my lads were like yours +I'd fling the business over, but I don't see why a decent woman, and her +a God-be-praised widow, should lose her living because you can't train +your brats in the way they should go. But this is mine! If you don't +stand by me and swear to do it here and now, it's not another drink one +of you shall get in my place till after things are settled." + +This was going farther than Mary McAdam had ever gone before. She had +threatened dire restrictions against them who failed to support her cause +should her cause be won in spite of them; she had even hinted at cash +payments to insure her against want if, possibly, her license was +revoked, but this shutting down upon human rights before election came +off was upsetting to the last degree. Hornby looked at McAlpin and +McAlpin dropped his eyes; there was a muttering and a grumbling, and a +general feeling prevailed that every man should be his own keeper and +the guardian of his own sons, and it would be a bitter wrong against a +God-be-praised widow to let family affairs ruin her business. + +In the end Mary McAdam, with a manly following of stern upholders of +individual rights and the opportunity for mutual good fellowship, retired +to the bar of the White Fish and, waited upon by Mary herself and her two +exemplary sons, made merry far into the evening. + +Tom and Sandy McAdam, handsome, carefree boys of sixteen and eighteen, +passed the drinks with many a jest and often a wink, but never a drop +drank they, not until the Lodge had closed its doors on all visitors, and +then Tom, the elder, with a final leer at Sandy the younger, drained off +a glass of bad whisky with a grace that betokened long practice. + +"Hold, there!" cautioned Sandy, filling a glass of beer for himself; +"you'll not be able to hide it from the mother, you galoot." + +"Oh, the night's long before the day breaks, and it's yourself as must +take the turn at house chores the morning." + +The following day was cloudy and threatening, and why Mary McAdam should +take that time for suggesting that her boys go over to Wyland Island and +buy their winter suits, she herself could not have told. Perhaps, from +the assurance of last night, she felt freer with money; perhaps she +thought the boys could not be spared so well later; be that as it might, +she insisted, even against Sandy's remark that "a lad couldn't put his +mind to a winter outfit with the sweat rolling down his back," that they +should set forth by eleven o'clock. + +"Make a lark of it," said she generously; "take that scapegoat Jerry-Jo +McAlpin with you and have it out with him about being a young beast and +worrying the heart out of old Jerry, who means well but ain't got no kind +of a headpiece. Take your lunch along and----" + +Here she pointed her remarks with a lean, commanding finger: "You take +that sail off the launch! It's quiet enough now, but it ain't going to +last forever, and I couldn't rest with three flighty lads in a boat with +a sail _and_ an engine." + +Mrs. McAdam always expected to be obeyed. Her personality was such that +she generally was; but always, when disobedience followed, it was hidden +from her immediate attention, and she was never one to show the weakness +of watching to see her orders carried out. That was why she, of all the +people in the little village, did not realize that her boys often drank +more than was good for them--always managed, by clever devices, to escape +her eye. + +"A glass of harmless stuff now and again," she would say with a toss of +her head; "what's that but a proof of the lads' self-control? That's what +I'm a-telling you: make your lads strong and self-respecting." + +Tom did not take the sail from the boat that day, neither did he expect +to use it. He furled it close and shipped it carefully, but it was late, +and, in the last hurry, he kept his mother's caution in mind, but did not +carry out her command. Then Sandy, when they were about to start, did a +bold thing. Stealing into the bar, he took a bottle of whisky and a +bottle of brandy; these he hid under his reefer, and, with a laugh at his +own cunning, put into the empty places on the shelves two partly filled +bottles, and ran to the wharf. + +Mary McAdam waved them a farewell from the steps. She had packed the +hamper and stowed it under the very sail she had ordered off. In the +excitement of preparation she overlooked it entirely. + +"You, Sandy, see to it that you buy a suit that you won't repent when the +winter nips you!" she called. + +"And you, Tom, get a quiet colour and _no_ checks! When yer last year's +suit shrank and the squares got crooked ye looked like a damaged +checker-board!" + +Jerry-Jo McAlpin from his seat in the stern roared with laughter at this, +and just then the sturdy little engine puffed, thudded, and "caught on," +and off went the three with loud words of good-bye. + +The Channel was as smooth as a summer brook, and the launch shot ahead. + +"It's a bit chilly," Sandy said as they neared the mouth opening at +Flying Point into the Little Bay. + +"Put on your storm coat," cautioned Tom, "and you, too, Jerry-Jo; we'll +get the wind when we pass Dreamer's Rock and strike the Big Bay." + +The boys got out their coats and put them on, and then Sandy said: + +"See what I've got! Snitched it from under the mother's eye, too!" He +held up the bottles. Tom laughed, but Jerry-Jo reached out for one. + +"A nip will ward off the cold better than a coat," he said. + +They all three indulged in this preventive. + +Beyond Dreamer's Rock the wind fulfilled Tom's prophecy; it was not a +great wind, but it was a steady one, and, perhaps, because the whisky had +warmed Tom's blood too hastily and hotly, he grew reckless. + +"What do you say, fellows, to eating our lunch and then trying sail and +engine together? We could beat the record and surprise folks by our time +in coming and going. The wind's safe; not a puff! What do you say?" + +Jerry-Jo was something of a coward, but by the time he had eaten his +lunch and washed it down with more whisky than he had meant to take, he +was ready to handle the sail himself and proceeded to do so. + +Little Bear Island was the last one before the entrance to Big Bay, and +when the launch passed that, either the wind had changed, or Tom, at the +engine and Jerry-Jo at the sail, had lost nerve and head, for the boat +became unmanageable. Sandy, keeping to the exact middle of the boat, +called to Jerry-Jo to lower the sail, but Jerry-Jo did not hear, or +failed to clearly comprehend. The little craft shot ahead like an arrow, +but Tom knew that when they went about there would be trouble. They were +fully a mile from either rock-bound shore. Wyland Island was a good two +miles before them, and home seven miles to the rear. + +A biggish sea was rolling and the sky was clouding threateningly. The +liquor had done its worst for the boys: it had unnerved them, while at +the same time it had given them a mad courage. + +"Keep straight ahead," shouted Tom, "until we get near shore, and then +pull in that infernal sail!" + +What happened just then Jerry-Jo could never tell, and he alone remained +at the day's end for the telling! + +They were in the water, all three of them! For a moment Jerry-Jo, +thoroughly sobered and keener witted than he had ever been before in his +life, believed he was the only one of the party ever again to appear in +that angry sea. Then he saw the over-turned boat, heard the last sobbing +pants of the engine as it filled with water; then Tom's black head and +agonized face appeared; then Sandy's red head. They all made for the boat +and the wide sail lying flat in the water! + +They reached the launch, chilled and desperate, climbed upon it, and +gazed helplessly at each other. Through chattering teeth they tried to +speak, but only a moan escaped Tom's blue lips. The wind was colder; the +sun had gone behind a bank of dull storm clouds. After a long while +Sandy, looking over the expanse of ugly choppy waves, shuddered and +panted: + +"It's going to be dark soon; it can't be more than a half mile to yonder +rock--I'm for swimming to it! Once on land we can move about, get our +blood going, and perhaps find a sheltered spot--till--morning!" + +Tom looked at his brother vaguely; he was suffering keenly: + +"Don't be a fool!" he shuddered. Jerry-Jo, huddled in a wet heap, was +sobbing like a baby--gone utterly to pieces. + +Another hideous space of silence followed, then Sandy spoke again: + +"I'm going to make the try. I'm dying of cold. It's the only chance for +any of us. Here goes!" + +And before any one could interfere he made his leap and was in the water, +a bobbing speck among the ugly white caps! + +"Good God!" + +That was all Tom said, but his crazed eyes were upon that strained, +uplifted face. Jerry-Jo ceased his moaning and--laughed! It was a foolish +cackle, such as a maniac might give, mistaking a death-struggle for a bit +of play. + +"He's--a good swimmer!" he gasped, and laughed again. Tom turned, for an +instant, wondering eyes upon him. He may have, in that moment, estimated +his own chance, his duty to Jerry-Jo, and his determination to be with +his brother. The perplexed gaze lasted but the briefest space of time and +then with: + +"All right! here goes!" he was making for Sandy with a strength born of +despair and madness. + +"Come back!" shrieked Jerry-Jo with the frenzy of one deserted and too +cowardly or helpless to follow: "Come back!" + +But neither swimmer heard nor heeded. For a moment more the black and the +red heads bobbed about, the faces turned toward each other grimly. Even +in that waste and at the bitter last the sense of companionship held +their thought. Jerry-Jo, rigid and every sense at last alert in an effort +for self-preservation, saw Sandy smile. It was a wonderful smile: it was +like a flash of sunlight on that black sea; then Sandy's lips moved, but +no one was ever to know what he said, and then--Jerry-Jo was alone in the +coming night and the rolling waves! + +"They should," said Mary McAdam, "be home by seven at the latest. The +wind's with them coming back; it was with them part of the way going!" + +Anton Farwell sat on the steps of the Lodge, his dogs peacefully lying at +his feet. All day, since hearing of the boys' trip, he had been restless +and anxious. Farwell had his bad hours often, but he rarely permitted +himself companionship at such times, but to-day, after his noon meal, he +had been unable to keep away from the Lodge. + +"Fall's setting in early," Mrs. McAdam went on; "pickerel come; whitefish +go. Beasts and fish and birds ken a lot, Mr. Farwell." + +"They certainly do. The more you live with dumb creatures, the more you +are impressed with that. Is that Sandy's dog, Mrs. McAdam?" + +A yellow, lank dog came sniffing around the side of the house and lay +down, friendly wise, by Farwell. + +"Yes, and he's a cute one. Do you believe me, Mr. Farwell, that there +Bounder knows the engine of our boat! Any other boat can come into the +Channel and he don't take any notice, but let my boys be out late and +Bounder, lying asleep on the floor, will start up at the chugging of the +launch and make for the dock. He never makes a mistake." + +Farwell laughed and bent over to smooth Bounder's back. + +"What time is it?" he asked. + +"Six-thirty," Mary replied with alarming readiness. "Six-thirty, and the +clock's a bit slow at that." + +Farwell felt sure it was a good ten minutes slow; but because of that he +turned the conversation. + +"Jerry McAlpin was telling me to-day," he said in his low, pleasant +voice, "of how he and others used to smuggle liquor over the border. +Jerry seems repenting of his past." + +Mary laughed and shrugged her shoulders. + +"My man and Jerry, with old Michael McAlpin, were the freest of +smugglers. In them days the McAlpins wasn't pestered with feelings; they +was good sports. Jerry marrying that full-breed had it taken out of him +somewhat--she was a hifty one. Them Indians never can get off their high +heels--not the full-breeds. But I tell you, Mr. Farwell, and you take it +for truth, when Jerry begins to maudle about repentance, it's just before +a--debauch. I know the signs." + +Just then Bounder raised his head and howled. + +"None of that! Off with yer!" shouted Mary, making for the dog with +nervous energy. "Once," she went on, her lips twitching, "my man and +Michael McAlpin had a good one on the officers. They had a big load of +the stuff on the cart and were coming down the road back of the Far Hill +Place when they sensed the custom men in the bushes. What do they do but +cut the traces and lick the horses into a run; then they turned the +barrels loose, jumped off, letting them roll down the hill, and they, +themselves, made for safety. It was only a bit more trouble to go back in +a week's time and gather up the barrels; but those government devils +followed the horses like idiots and felt mighty set up when they overtook +them! But when they saw they had _only_ the horses, oh! good Lord!" + +Farwell laughed absently; his eyes were fixed on the water. Even in the +Channel it had an angry look. The current was set from the Bay, and the +stream rose and fell as if it had an ugly secret in its keeping. + +"Mrs. McAdam," he said suddenly, "I'm going out to--to meet the boys!" + +"God save ye, Mr. Farwell--for which?" + +When Mary fell into that form of speech she was either troubled or +infuriated. + +"I'm restless; I feel like a fling. Come on, you scamps!" to his dogs, +"get home and keep house till I come back." + +His dogs leaped to him and then made for the Green. Without another word +Farwell walked to his launch at the foot of the wharf steps and prepared +for his trip. + +A black wave of fear enveloped Mary McAdam. She was overcome by a +certainty of evil, and, when Farwell's boat had disappeared, she strode +to the Green and gave vent to her anxiety. There were those who +comforted, those who jeered, but the men were largely away on fishing +business, and the women and boys were more interested in her excitement +than they were in her cause for fear. + +It was eight o'clock and very dark when Doctor Ledyard, driving down +from Far Hill Place for the mail, paused to listen to Mrs. McAdam's +expressions of anxiety. Young Dick Travers was beside him, and Mary's +words held him. + +"Was Jerry-Jo with your boys, Mrs. McAdam?" he asked. + +"He was that! And Jerry-Jo always brings ill-luck on a trip. I should +have known better than to let the half-breed scamp go. 'Twas pity as +moved me. Jerry-Jo is one as thinks rocking a boat is spirit, and yelling +for help, when no help is needed, a rare joke. The young devil!" + +Doctor Ledyard and Dick stayed on after getting the mail. A strange, +tense feeling was growing in the place. Mary's terror was contagious. + +"If the men would only come back," moaned the distracted mother; "I'd +send the lot of them out after the young limbs!" + +At eight-thirty the storm broke. A dull, thick storm which had used most +of its fury out beyond Flying Point, and in the breast of the sullen wind +came the sound of an engine panting, panting in the darkness that was +shot by flashes of lightning and rent by thunder-claps. Mary McAdam gazed +petrified at Bounder, who had followed her to the Green. + +"Why don't yer yelp?" she muttered, giving the dog a kick. But Bounder +blinked indifferently as the coming boat drew near and nearer. + +Every boy, woman, and child, with the old men and lazy young ones, were +at the wharf when the launch emerged from the darkness. Some one was +standing up guiding the boat, ready to protect it from violent contact; +some one was huddled on the floor of the boat--some one who made no cry, +did not look up. They two were all! Just then a lurid flash of lightning +seemed to photograph the scene forever on the minds of the onlookers. + +Ledyard, with Dick, was close to the boat when it touched the dock. By +the lurid light of electricity the face of the man in the launch rose +sharply against the darkness and for one instant shone as if to attract +attention. + +Farwell was known by reputation to the doctor; he had probably been seen +by him many times, but certainly his face had never made an impression +upon him before. But now, in the hour of anguish and excitement, it held +Ledyard's thought to the exclusion of everything else. + +"Who? where?" The questions ran through his mind and then, because every +sense was alert, he knew! + +"Jerry-Jo!" Dick was calling, "where are the others?" + +It was a mad question, but the boy, huddling in the launch, replied +quiveringly: + +"Gone! gone to the bottom off Dreamer's Rock." + +Then he began to whimper piteously. + +A shuddering cry rang out. It was Mary McAdam, who, followed by her dog, +ran wildly, apron over head, toward the White Fish Lodge. + +Farwell, casting all reserve aside, worked with Ledyard over the +prostrate Jerry-Jo. The recognition was no shock to him; he had always +known Ledyard; had cleverly kept from his notice heretofore, but now the +one thing he had hoped to escape was upon him, and he grew strangely +indifferent to what lay before. + +He obeyed every command of the doctor as they sought to restore Jerry-Jo. +More than once their eyes met and their hands touched, but the contact +did not cause a tremor in either man. + +When the inevitable arrives a strength accompanies it. Nature rarely +deserts either friend or foe at the critical moment. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The bay was dragged, various methods being used, but the bodies of Sandy +and Tom McAdam were not recovered. Mary McAdam with strained eyes and +rigid lips waited at the wharf as each party returned, and when at last +hope died in her poor heart, she set about the doing of two things that +she felt must be done. + +The behaviour of the boys in the boat on the day of the accident had at +last reached her ears, for, with such excitement prevailing and Jerry-Jo +reduced to periods of nervous babbling as he repeated again and again the +story, Mary was certain of overhearing the details. As far as possible +she verified every word. That her sons had disobeyed her about the sail +there could be no doubt, and when she went to the shelf of the bar and +discovered the half-filled bottles which Sandy had put in the places of +the brandy and whisky, her heart gave up doubt. She relinquished all that +she had prided herself upon in the past. They had defied and deceived +her! They had permitted her to be mocked while she prated of her +superiority! It was bitter hard, but Mary McAdam made no feeble cry--she +prepared for the final act in the little drama. Beyond that she could +not, would not look. + +"Dig me two graves," she commanded Big Hornby; "dig them one on either +side of my husband's." + +"You'll be thinking the bodies will yet be found, poor soul?" Hornby had +a tender nature kept human by his hunger for his absent boys. + +"I'm not thinking. I'm doing my part; let others do the same." + +And then Mary went to Anton Farwell. Farwell, since the night of the +tragedy, was waiting, always waiting for the inevitable. Every knock at +his door brought him panting to his feet. He knew Doctor Ledyard would +come; he fervently hoped he would, and soon, but the days dragged on. +There were moments when the man had a wild desire to shoulder his bag and +set forth under shadow of the night and the excitement, for one of his +long absences, this one, however, to terminate as far from Kenmore as +possible. Once he had even started, but at the edge of the water where +his boat lay he halted, deterred by the knowledge that his safer course +lay in facing what he must face sooner or later. Now that he was known to +be alive it were easier to deal with one man than with the pack of +bloodhounds which that one man might set upon him. Always the personal +element entered in--it was weak hope, but the only one. He might win +Ledyard; he could not win the pack! + +When Mary McAdam knocked on Farwell's door he thought the time had come, +but the sight of the distracted mother steadied him. Here was something +for him to do, something to carry him away from his lonely forebodings. + +"Come in, Mrs. McAdam. Rest yourself. You look sorely in need of rest." + +It was the early evening of a hot day. It was lighter out of doors than +in the cottage, for the shades were drawn at Farwell's windows; he +disliked the idea of being watched from without. + +"I can't rest, Master Farwell, till I've done my task," said the poor +soul, sinking into the nearest chair. "And it's to get your help I've +come." + +"I'll do what I can," murmured Farwell. "What I'll be permitted to do," +he felt would be more true. + +"I've said more than once, Mr. Farwell, that were my boys like other boys +I'd give up the business of the White Fish. Well, my lads were like +others, only they were keener about deceiving me. I thought I'd made them +strong and sure, but I did the same hurt to my flesh and blood that I did +to others. I put evil too close and easy to them. I prided myself on what +I had never done! They'll come back to me no more. Could I have a talk +with them, things might be straightened out; but I must do what is to be +done alone." + +Not a quiver shook the low, severe voice. The very hardness moved Farwell +to deep pity. + +"It's now, Mr. Farwell, that I'd have you come to the Lodge and help me +with my task, and when it's over I want you to stand with me beside those +two empty graves and say what you can for them who never had the right +mother to teach them. I'm no church woman; the job of priest and minister +sickens me, but I know a good man when I see one. You helped the lads +while they lived; you risked your life to help them home at the last; and +it's you who shall consecrate the empty beds where I'd have my lads lie +if the power were mine!" + +Farwell got up and paced the room restlessly. Suddenly, with Ledyard's +recognition, the poor shell of respectability and self-respect which, +during his lonely years, had grown about him, was torn asunder, and he +was what he knew the doctor believed him. To such, Mary McAdam's request +seemed a cruel jest, a taunt to drive him into the open. And yet he knew +that up to the last ditch he must hold to what he had secured for +himself--the trust and friendship of these simple people. Hard and +distasteful as the effort was he dared not turn himself from it. Full +well he knew that Ledyard's magnifying glass was, unseen, being used +against him even now. The delay was probably caused by the doctor's +silent investigation of his recent life, his daily deeds. He could well +imagine the amusement, contempt, and disbelief that would meet the story +of his poor, blameless years during which he had played with children, +worked in his garden, been friends with the common folk, not from any +high motive, but to keep himself from insanity! He had had to use any +material at hand, and it had brought about certain results that Ledyard +would dissect and toss aside, he would never believe! Still the attempt +to live on, as he had lived, must be undertaken. A kind of desperation +overcame him. + +What did it matter? He might just as well go on until he was stopped. He +was no safer, no more comfortable, sitting apart waiting for his summons. +He would, as far as in him lay, ignore the menacing thing that hovered +near, and play the part of a man while he might. + +"I'm ready to go with you, Mrs. McAdam," he said, turning for his hat, +"and as we go tell me what you are about to do." + +It was no easy telling. The mere statement of fact was so crude that +Farwell could not, by any possibility, comprehend the dramatic scene he +was soon to witness and partake of. + +"I'm going to keep my word," Mary McAdam explained. "I'll not be waiting +for the license to be given, or taken away, I'll keep my word." + +It was a still, breathless night, with a moon nearly full, and as Mrs. +McAdam, accompanied by Farwell, passed over the Green toward the Lodge, +the idlers and loiterers followed after at a respectful distance. Mary +was the centre of attraction just then, and Farwell always commanded +attention, used as the people were to him. + +"Come on! come on!" called Mary without turning her head. "Bring others +and behold the sight of your lives. Behold a woman keeping her word when +the need for the keeping is over!" + +A growing excitement was rising in Mary's voice; she was nearing the end +of her endurance and was becoming reckless. + +By the time the Lodge was reached a goodly crowd was at the steps leading +up to the bar. Jerry McAlpin was there with Jerry-Jo beside him. Hornby, +just come from the digging of the two graves, stood nearby with the scent +of fresh earth clinging to him. + +Suddenly Mary McAdam came out of the house, her arms filled with bottles, +while behind her followed Farwell rolling a cask. + +What occurred then was so surprising and bewildering that those who +looked on were never able to clearly describe the scene. Standing with +her load, Mary McAdam spoke fierce, hot words. She showed herself no +mercy, asked for no pity. She had dealt in a business that threatened the +souls of men and boys, made harder the lives of women. She had blinded +herself and made herself believe that she and hers were better, stronger +than others, and now---- + +Mary was magnificent in her abandon and despair. Her words flowed freely, +her eyes flashed. + +[Illustration: "'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! +here! here!' The bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the +roadway"] + +"And now," she cried, "I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!" + +The bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway. + +"And you, Master Farwell, break open the keg and set the evil thing +free." + +This Farwell proceeded to do with energy born of the hour. "And fetch out +all that remains!" shrieked Mary. "Here, you! McAlpin, I'll have none of +your help! Stay in your place; I'd not trust you inside when all's as +free as it is to-night. You have your lad--heaven help you! Keep him and +give him a clean chance. Nor you, Hornby! Out with you! It's a wicked +waste, is it? Better so than what I suffer. Your lads are above ground, +though out of your sight, Hornby, while mine----Here, Master, more! more! +let us water the earth." + +The mad scene went on until the last drop of liquor was soaking into the +earth or dripping from the rocks. + +White-faced and stern, Farwell carried out the mother's commands and +heeded not the muttered discontent or the approach of the horse and buggy +bearing Doctor Ledyard and Dick Travers. He was one in the drama now and +he played his part. + +At the close a dull silence rested on the group, then Mary McAdam made +her appeal. Her voice broke; her hands trembled. She looked aged and +forlorn. + +"And now," she said; "who'll come to the graveyard with me?" + +She need not have asked. To the last child they followed mutely. They +were overcome by curiosity and fear, and the faces in the dull light of +the late day and early night looked ghostly. + +As Farwell stood near Mary McAdam by the newly made graves, he raised +his eyes and found Ledyard's stern, yet amused, ones on his face. For +a moment he quivered, but with the courage of one facing an operation, +the outcome of which he could not know, he returned the look steadily. +He heard his own voice speaking words of helpfulness, words of +memory-haunted scenes. He told of Tom's courage and Sandy's sunshiny +nature. 'Twas youth, he pleaded for them, youth with its blindness and +lack of foresight. He recalled the last dread act as Jerry-Jo had +depicted it. The older brother risking all for the younger. The +smile--Sandy's last bequest--the moving lips that doubtless spoke words +of affection to the only one who could hear them. Together they had +played their pranks, had trod the common path; together they +went--Farwell paused, then returned Ledyard's sneering gaze +defiantly,--"To God who alone can understand and judge!" This was +flung out boldly, recklessly. + +With ceremony and the sound of sobbing, the empty graves were refilled, +and the strange company turned away. + +Then, alone and spent, Farwell returned to his cottage with a sure sense +that before he slept he would know his fate, for he acknowledged that his +fate lay largely, now, in the hands of the man who no longer had any +doubt of his identity. + +It was half-past eight when the buggy passed Farwell's window bound for +the Hill Place. Young Travers was driving and the seat beside him was +empty! Nine o'clock struck; the lights went out in the village, but +Farwell rose and trimmed his lamp carefully. Ten o'clock--all Kenmore, +excepting Mary McAdam, slept. Still Farwell waited while his clock ticked +out the palpitating seconds. The moonlight flooded the Green. Where was +he, that waiting man who was to come and give the blow? + +It was nearly eleven when Farwell saw him advancing across the Green. He +had been down by the water, probably hiding in some anchored boat until +he was sure that he would not be seen. As he reached the door of +Farwell's house a clear voice called to him: + +"Will you come in, or would you prefer to have me come out?" + +This took Ledyard rather at a disadvantage. He could hardly have told +what he expected, but he certainly did not look for this calm acceptance +of him and his errand. + +"I'll come in. I see you have a light. Thank you"--for Farwell had +offered a chair near the table--"I hope I'm not disturbing you." + +The irony of this was apparently lost upon Farwell. He sat opposite +Ledyard, his arms folded on the table, waiting. + +"So you're alive!" + +"So it seems--at least partly so." Farwell parried the blows as one does +even when he sees failure at hand. + +"Perhaps you know your death was reported some years ago? There was a +full account. You were escaping into Canada. The _La Belle_ was the name +of the boat. It went down near here?" + +"Off Bleak Head," Farwell broke in. + +"Thanks. There was even a picture of you in the papers," Ledyard said. + +"A very poor one, I recall." Now that he was on the dissecting table, +Farwell found himself strangely calm and collected. He saw that his +manner irritated Ledyard; felt that it might ruin his chances, but he +held to it grimly. + +"So you saw--the papers?" The eyes under the shaggy brows looked ugly. + +"Oh, yes. I had them all sent to me. It was very interesting reading +after I got over the shock of the wreck and had accepted my isolated +position." + +"I suppose--Boswell keeps in touch with you--damn him!" + +"Do you begrudge me--this one friend?" + +"Yes. You have put yourself outside the pale of human companionship and +friendships." + +To this Farwell made no rejoinder. Again he waited. + +"What do you think I'm going to do about it, now that I've run you down +so unexpectedly?" + +"I have supposed you would tell me, once we got together." + +"Well, I've come to tell you!" + +Ledyard leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out before +him. + +"But first I'm going to ask you a few questions. Your answers won't +signify much one way or the other, but I'm curious. Why did you make such +a fight--just to live? It must have been a devil of a game." + +Farwell leaned against the table and so came nearer to his inquisitor. + +"It was," he said quietly, "and I wonder if you can understand why it is +that I'm glad to tell--even you about it? I don't expect sympathy, pity, +or--even justice, but when a man's been on a desert isle for years it's a +relief to speak his own tongue again to any one who can comprehend and +who will listen." + +"I'm prepared to listen," Ledyard muttered, and shrugged his heavy +shoulders; "it will pass the time." + +"After the thing was done," Farwell plunged in, "the thing I--had to +do--I was dazed; I couldn't think clear. I'd been driven by drink +and--and other things into a state bordering on delirium. Afterward, when +they had me and I was forced to live normally, simply, I began to think +clearly and suffer. God! how I suffered! I faced death with the horror +that only an intelligent person can know. I saw no escape. The trial, the +verdict, brought me closer and closer to the hideous reality. At first +I thought it could _not_ happen to me--to me! But it could! I sat day +in and day out, looking at the electric chair! That was all I could see: +it stood like a symbol of all the torture. I wondered how I would +approach it. Would I falter, or go as most poor devils do--steadily? I +saw myself--afterward--all that was left of me to give back to the world. +Oh! I suffered, I suffered!" + +The white, haggard face held Ledyard's fascinated gaze, but drew no word +from him. + +Farwell loosened the neck of his shirt--he was stifling, yet feeling +relief as the past dreams of his lonely life formed themselves into +words. + +"At night I was haunted by visions," the low, vibrant voice rushed on. +"It was worse at night when semi-unconsciousness made me helpless. I'd +wake up yelling, not with fright, but pain, actual pain--the hot, knifing +pain of an electric current trying to find my heart and brain. + +"Then they said I was mad. Well, so I was; and the fight was on! At first +there was a gleam--the chair faded from sight. If I lived--there was +hope; but I was mistaken. You know the rest. The legal struggle, the +escapes and captures. One friend and much money did what they could; it +wasn't much. + +"You've seen a cat play with a mouse? The mouse always runs, doesn't it? +Well, so did I, though I didn't know where in God's world I was running, +nor to what." + +For some minutes Farwell had been speaking like a man distraught by +fever. He had forgotten the listener across the table; he was remembering +_aloud_ at last, with no fear of consequences. He did not look at +Ledyard, and when he spoke again it was in a calmer tone. + +"It was on the last run--that I was supposed to have drowned. Well, I did +die; at least something in me died. I lost breath, consciousness, and +when I came to I was a poor, broken thing not worth turning the hounds +on. I'm done for as far as the past's concerned. I'm a different man--not +a reformed one! God knows I never played that rôle. I'm another man. I +took what I could to keep me from insanity. I had to do something to +occupy my time. That's why I've taught these poor little devils; it +wasn't for them, it was for me; and when they grew to like me and trust +me--I was grateful. Grateful for even that!" + +Ledyard was holding the white, drawn face by his merciless eyes. So he +looked when a particularly interesting subject lay under his knife and he +was all surgeon--no man. + +"But you're not equal to going back to the States without being hauled +there--and taking your medicine?" he asked calmly. + +"No. I suppose in the final analysis all that justice demands is that I +should be put out of the way--out of the way of harming others? Well, +that's accomplished. I don't suppose your infernal ideas of justice claim +that a man should be hounded beyond death, and every chance for right +living be barred from him? If a poor devil ever can expatiate his sin and +try to live a decent life, why shouldn't he be given the opportunity here +and now instead of in some mythical place among creatures of one's +fancy?" + +"You didn't argue that way when you shot Charles Martin down, did you? He +was my friend; he had to--take his medicine!" Ledyard almost snarled out +these words. "He may have deserved his punishment for the lapses of his +life--but you were not the one to deal it. His family demand and should +have justice for him--I mean to see that they shall. Martin, for all his +folly was a genius, and gave to the world his toll of service. Why should +you, who gave nothing, escape at his expense?" + +"Martin was no better, no worse, than I. He and I lived on the same plane +then; had the same interests. Had I not killed him, he would have killed +me. He swore that." + +"But you took him--at a disadvantage, like the damned----" Ledyard +paused; he was losing his self-control. The calm, living face across the +table enraged him. + +"I met him in the open; I did not know he was unarmed. I drew my pistol +in full view. A week before he had done the same; I escaped. No one +believed that when I told it at the trial. I had no witnesses; he had +many when I took my revenge." + +"Who could believe you? What was your life compared with his?" + +"Exactly. Perhaps that is why I--I kept running. Martin only dipped into +such lives as mine was then; he always scurried back to respectability +and honour; I grovelled in the mire and got stuck! When you get stuck you +get what the world calls--justice." + +"I recall"--Ledyard's face was hardening--"I recall you always squealed. +You were always the wronged one; society was against you. Bah!" + +Farwell sat unmoved under this attack. + +"I'm not squealing now," he said quietly; "I am merely defending myself +as I can. That's the prerogative of any human being, isn't it? Why, see +here, Ledyard, there's one thing men like you never comprehend. On the +different stratas of life exactly the same passions, impulses, and +emotions exist; it's the way they're dealt with, how they affect people, +that makes the difference. Up where you live and breathe they love and +hate and take revenge, don't they? That's what happened down where I +wallowed and where Martin sometimes came--to enjoy himself!" + +And now Farwell clutched his thin hands on the table to stay their +trembling as he went on: + +"I loved--the woman in the case. That sounds strange to you, but it's the +only thing I warn you not to laugh at! I loved her because she was +beautiful, fascinating, and as--as bad as I. I knew the poor creature had +never had half a show. She was born in evil and exploited from the cradle +up. Martin knew it, too, and took advantage. She was fair game for him +and his money. When he came down to hell to play, he played with her and +defied me. But on my plane it was man against man, you see, and when he +flung his plaything aside, she came to me; that's all! She told me how he +had brought her where she was--yes, damn him! when she was innocent! She +paid her toll then, _not_ for his money--though who would believe +that?--but for the chance to be decent and clean. He told her, when +she was only sixteen, that the one way she could prove her vows to him +was to give herself to him. If she trusted him so far, he could trust +her. She trusted, poor child! Two years later he married up on his higher +plane--your plane--and laughingly offered a second best place to her. It +was the only bargain she could make then! The rest was an easy downhill +grade. + +"Well, I took her. I was all you say, but I meant to do the right +thing by her, and she knew it! Yes, she knew it, and later he came back +and tried to get her away. After I shot him and went to her with the +story--she told me she'd pull herself together and wait for me +until--until I came for her. She understood!" + +Ledyard moistened his lips and set his jaws harshly. The story had not +moved him to pity. + +"And--where is she now?" he asked. + +"In New York, I suppose. She thinks me dead." + +"Boswell tells you that?" + +"Yes. And he will never let her know. Unless I----" + +"You expect to go back--some day?" + +Farwell gave a dry, mirthless laugh at this, and then replied: + +"After I've been dead long enough, when I've been good long enough, +perhaps. You know even in a disembodied spirit hope dies hard. Yes--I +_had_ hoped to go back." + +"I--I thought so." Ledyard leaned forward and across the table; his face +was not three feet from Farwell's. + +"I like to trace diseases down to the last germ," he said. "You're a +disease, Farwell Maxwell, a mighty, ugly, dangerous one. You oughtn't to +be alive; you're a menace while you have breath in your body; you should +have died years ago in payment of your debt, just as Martin did, but you +escaped, and now some one has got to keep an eye on you; see that you +don't skip quarantine. You understand?" + +Farwell felt the turning of the screw. + +"I'm going to be the eye, Maxwell. You're going to stay right where you +are until you pass off this sphere. Remembering what you once were, your +pastimes and love of luxury, this seems as hellish a place and existence +as even you deserve. When I saw you last night"--and here Ledyard +laughed--"it was all I could do to control myself. You play your part +well; but you always had a knack for theatricals. I know I'm a hard, +unforgiving man, but there is just one phase of human nature that I will +not stand for, and that is the refusal to take the medicine prescribed +for the disease. What incentive have people for better living and upright +thinking if every devil of a fellow who gets through his beastiality is +permitted to come up into the ranks and march shoulder to shoulder with +the best? If it's living you want and will lie for, steal for, and beg +for--have it; but have it here where the chances are all against your old +self. You'll probably never murder any one here or ruin the women; so +grovel on!" + +As he listened Farwell seemed to shrink and age. In that hour he +recognized the fact that through all the years of self-imposed exile he +had held to the hope of release in the future: the going back to that +which he had once known. But looking at the hard, set face opposite he +knew that this hope was futile: he must live forever where he was, or, by +departing, bring about him the bloodhounds of justice and vengeance. +Ledyard had but to whistle, he knew, and again the pursuit would be keen, +and in the end--a long blank lay beyond that! + +"You will--stay where you are!" Ledyard was saying. + +"Surely. I intend to stay right here." + +Then Farwell laughed and leaned back in his chair. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Life settled into calm after the storm and subsequent happenings. Mary +McAdam, having done what she felt she must do, grimly set her house in +order and prepared for a new career. The bar, cleansed and altered, +became her private apartment. With the courage and endurance of a martyr +she determined to fight her battle out where there would be the least +encouragement or comfort. + +"I'll drink to the dregs," she said to Mary Terhune, who gave up her +profession to share the solitude and fortunes of the White Fish; "but +while I'm drinking there's no crime in serving my kind. Come summer I'll +open my doors to tourists and keep the kind of house a woman--and a +God-bepraised widow one at that--should keep. Time was when the best +would not come to me, the bar being against their liking. Well, the best +may come now and find peace." + +"'Tis a changed woman you are, Mrs. McAdam." + +"No, just a stricken one, Mary. When I sit by those empty graves back of +the pasture lot I seem to know that I must do the work of my boys as well +as my own--and the time's short! I'm over sixty." + +"And looking forty, Mrs. McAdam." The manners of her trade clung to Mrs. +Terhune. + +"The shell doesn't count, Mary, if the heart of you is old and worn." + +The people from the Far Hill Place returned early to town that year, and +Anton Farwell breathed easier and sunk back into his old life when he +knew they were gone. + +In resurrecting the man Farwell once was, Ledyard had all but slain the +man he had, perforce, become. + +Whether former characteristics were dead or not, who could tell? +But certainly with temptation removed, with the routine of a bleak, +uninteresting existence his only choice, Farwell was a harmless creature. +Gradually he had found solace in the commonplaces that surrounded +him. Like a person relieved of mortal agony he was grateful for +semi-invalidism. Previous to Ledyard's recognition of him he had sunk to +a monotonous indifference, waiting, he realized now, for the time when he +might safely shake off his disguise and slip away to what was once his +own. Now, with his exit from Kenmore barred, he found that he no longer +could return to his stupor; he was alert, keen, and restless. In the +past he had often forced himself to exercise in order that he might be +ready to journey on when the time of release came. His walks to the +distant town, his long hours on the water, had all been preparations +for the final leave-taking from his living tomb. + +But now that he had no need of lashing himself into action, he found +himself always on the move. He worked early and late at trifling tasks +that occupied his hands while sharpening his wits. With shades drawn at +night, he drew, with pencil and paper, plans of escape. He must choose +a calm spell after a storm; he would take his launch, with a rowboat +behind, to the Fox Portage. He'd set his launch free and shoulder his +boat. Once he reached the Little Bay, he'd take his chances for an +outgoing steamer. He'd have plenty of money and a glib story of a bad +connection. It would go. He must defeat Ledyard. + +Then he would tear the sheets of paper in bits, toss them on the coals, +and laugh bitterly as he realized that he was imprisoned forever. + +Foolish as all this was, it had its effect upon the man. He played with +the thought as a child might play with a forbidden toy. Then he decided +to test the matter. He would have to buy clothes and provisions for the +winter--he always made a pilgrimage about this time. There would be a +letter from Boswell, too. There always was one in September. So on a +certain morning Farwell turned the key in his lock and quite naturally +set forth with a sense of exaltation and freedom he had imagined he would +never feel again. + +Followed by his dogs, he went to his boat, which happened just then to be +tied at the ricketty dock of the White Fish. + +"It's off for a tramp you are, maybe?" asked Mrs. McAdam from her +doorway. "God keep you, Mr. Farwell, and bring you back safe and sound." + +At this Farwell paused. + +"I think I'll leave the dogs behind," he said. "I may wish to hurry back, +and a brace of dogs, keen on scents and full of spirits, is a handicap on +a journey." + +"Sure I'll feed and care for the two, and welcome, and if their staying +behind brings you quicker home, 'tis a good piece of work I'm doing for +Kenmore." + +With this Mary McAdam came down to the boat and looked keenly at Farwell. + +"Are you well?" she asked with a gentleness new and touching. "'Tis pale +you look, and thin, I'm thinking. I'm getting to depend upon you, and the +thought of anything happening to you grieves the heart of me. In all +Kenmore there's no one as I lean on like you. There be nights when I look +out toward your house and see your light a-shining when all else is dark, +and say to myself, 'The master and me' over and over, and I'm less +lonely." + +For a moment Farwell could not speak. Once an inward desire to laugh, +to scoff, would have driven him to supernatural gravity; now he merely +smiled with grave pleasure, and said: + +"A tramp will do me good, Mrs. McAdam. Thank you. I'll take your words +with me for comfort and cheer." + +The first night Farwell slept beside his fire, not ten miles from +Kenmore. He had revelled in his freedom all day, had played like a boy, +often retracing his steps, carefully using the same footprints, and +laughing as he imagined the confusion of any one trying to follow him; +the vague somebody being always Ledyard. + +After a frugal meal, Farwell smoked his pipe, even attempted a snatch of +rollicking song, then, rolling himself in a blanket, fell into natural +and happy slumber. + +At four he awoke with the creeping sensation of unexplainable fear. He +first thought some animal was prowling near, and, raising himself on his +elbow, looked keenly about. The appearance of the fire puzzled him. It +looked as if fresh wood had been laid upon it, but, as no one was in +sight he concluded that his own wood had been damp, and, therefore, had +burned slower. + +He did not sleep again, however, and his excited thoughts trailed back to +his past and the one woman who had magically caught and held all the best +that was in him. To what point of vantage had she, poor, disabled little +soul, drifted? The world was a hard enough place for a woman, God knew, +and for her, with her sudden-born determination to rise above the squalor +of her early youth, it would be a serious problem. Boswell told him so +little. He could count on his fingers the few sharp facts his friend had +given him with the promise that if conditions changed he should know, but +if all remained well, he might be secure in his faith and hope for the +future. The future! Was there any future for him except Kenmore? And if +she heard now that he was alive, had only _seemed_ dead for her safety +and his own, would she come to him and share the dun-coloured life of the +In-Place? + +She was alive; she was faithful. Boswell was making her comfortable with +Farwell's money. She was accepting less and less because she was winning +her way to independence in an honourable line. Since no man had entered +her life after Farwell's death was reported, Farwell could readily see +why. + +Over and over, that first night in the woods, Farwell rehearsed these +facts for comfort's sake. Suppose he made an escape. Suppose he lost +himself in the city's labyrinth--what then? + +And then, just at daybreak, a vivid and sharp memory of the woman's face +came to him as he had last seen it pressed against the bars of his cell. +Behind the squares of metal it shone like an angel's. Fair, pitiful, +wonder-filled eyes, and quivering mouth. All day the picture haunted him +and seemed to draw him toward it. He walked twenty miles that day and +came at sunset to a dense jungle where he made his camp and stretched +himself exhaustedly before the fire. + +Sleep did not come easily to him; he was too excited and nerve worn. The +white face checked by iron bars would not fade, and in the red glow of +the flames it began to look wan and haggard, as if the day had tired it +and it could find no rest or comfort. + +The feeling of suffocation Ledyard had managed to create, returned to +him. He grew nervous, ill at ease, and fearful. + +Then he fell to moralizing. He was not often given to that, or +introspection. Longing and alternate hope and despair had been his +comrades and bedfellows, but he rarely indulged in calm consideration. +Smoking his pipe, stretched wearily on the moss, he wondered if men knew +how much they punished while fulfilling their ideals of justice? + +"If only the sense of vindictiveness could be left out," he thought; "the +Lord knows they have it all in their power once the key is turned on us. +I deserved all they meant to inflict, but no human being deserves all +that was given unconsciously." + +Then Farwell relived his life, while the wood crumbled to ashes and the +moon came up over the hills. A misguided, misspent boyhood; too much +money; too little common sense; then the fling in the open with every +emotion and desire uncurbed. Well, he had to learn his lesson and God +knew he had; but why, in the working of things, shouldn't one be given +a chance to prove the well-learned task; an opportunity, while among the +living, to settle the question? + +However, such fancies were idle, and Farwell shook the ashes from his +pipe and gave a humorous shrug. + +It would be a fine piece of work to slip from the clutches of the past +and make good! This idea caused him to tremble. Surely no one would look +for him in the camp of the upright. Walking the paths of the clean and +sane he would be more surely secure from detection than anywhere else on +earth. That was what his past had done for him. The truth of this sank +into the lonely man's soul with sickening finality. And as he realized +it, and compared it with the fact of his youth, he groaned. What an +infernal fool he had been! What fools all such fellows were who, like +him, wasted everything in their determination to make the unreal, real. +He did not now desire to be a drivelling repentant; he wanted, God knew +he really wanted, a chance to be decent and live; but in order to live he +must go on acting a part and cringing and hiding. + +These thoughts led nowhere and unfitted him for his journey, so he made +the fire safe, lay down beside it, and slept as many a better man would +have given much to sleep. + +At four he awoke as on the previous night. So quietly, however, did he +open his eyes that he took by surprise a man crouching by the fire as if +stealing a bit of warmth. Farwell turned over, and the two eyed each +other with wide, penetrating gaze. + +Tough Pine, the guide, finding himself discovered, grinned sheepishly; he +was loathing himself for being taken off guard, and muttered: + +"Me share fire? me helped keep it." + +Farwell raised himself on his elbow, all the light and courage gone from +his face. It was the old story, the dream of freedom and--the prison +bars! + +"Where are you going?" he asked, though he knew full well. + +"Where--you go? There, Pine go! Pine--good friend and good guide." + +They questioned each other no more. Farwell finished his errand in dull +fashion, bought his goods, found a letter, long waiting him, read all the +papers he could lay hands on, and then set his face toward Kenmore. And +that winter he devoted himself as he never had before to the simple +people who were the means of keeping him sane. + +Upon this newly restricted and devastated horizon Priscilla Glenn loomed +large and vital. With Nathaniel's loosened rein and Theodora's restored +faith, the girl developed wonderfully. Farwell made no more objection to +her dancing or her flights of fancy. He fiddled for her and fed the flame +of her imagination. She was the sunniest creature he had ever known; +the bleak life of Lonely Farm had spurred her to greater lengths of +self-defence; nothing could daunt her. She had an absorbing curiosity +about life, out and beyond the Kenmore confines; and more to keep his own +memory clear than to satisfy Priscilla, Farwell set himself to the task +of educating the girl in ways that would have appalled Nathaniel and +reduced Theodora again to tears and apprehension. + +The bare room of the master's house was the stage upon which were set, in +turn, the scenes of distant city life. Vicariously Priscilla learned the +manners of a "real lady" under the most trying circumstances. Farwell +told her of plays, operas, and, over his deal table, they chatted in +brilliant restaurants. They walked gay streets and stood bewildered +before flashing shop windows. It was all dangerous, but fascinating, and +in the playing of the game Farwell grew old and drawn, while Priscilla +gradually came into her Heart's Desire of delight. + +"My Road!" she proudly thought. "My Road!" + +The old poem was recalled and was often repeated like a litany, while +life became more and more vital and thrilling with dull Kenmore as a +background and setting. + +Just about this time Jerry-Jo took to wearing his Sunday suit on week +days, thus proclaiming his aspirations and awaking the ribald jests of +his particular set. + +Mary Terhune, now partner of Mrs. McAdam, took note of Jerry-Jo's +appearance, and, on a certain afternoon in midwinter, when she, Long +Jean, and Mary McAdam sat by the range in the White Fish kitchen, fanned +a lively bit of gossip into flame. + +"Trade's a bit poor these days, eh, Jean?" + +Jean grunted over her cup of green tea. + +"Not so many children born as once was, eh? What you make of it, +Jean--the woman getting heady or--which?" + +Mary McAdam broke in. + +"What with poverty and the terrors of losing them, there's enough born to +my thinking. Time was when the young 'uns happened; they're thought more +on, these days. Women _should_ have a say. If there's one thing a man +should keep his tongue off it's this matter of families!" + +To this outrageous sentiment the listeners replied merely by two audible +gulps of tea, and then Mary Terhune found grace to remark: + +"You certainly do talk most wonderful things, Mary McAdam. You be an +ornament to your sex, but only such women as you can grip them audacious +ideas. Let them be sowed broadcast and----" + +"Where would me, and such as me, be?" Long Jean muttered, defending her +profession. + +Mrs. Terhune tactfully turned the conversation: + +"Have you noticed the change in Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" she asked with a +mysterious shake of her head. + +"Any change for the better would be welcome," Mrs. McAdam retorted. "Have +another cup, Jean? Strong or weak?" + +"Strong. I says often, says I, that unless tea curls your tongue you +might just as well take water. When I'm on duty I keep a pot on the back +of the stove week in and week out; it do brace me powerful." + +Mrs. McAdam poured the tea into the outstretched cup and proceeded to +discuss Jerry-Jo. + +"Why doesn't the scamp go to the States and find himself instead of +worrying old Jerry's very life out of him--the vampire!" + +"He may have it in his mind," soothed Mary Terhune, "but the lad's deep +and far seeing like his Injun mother--beg pardon, Jean, the term's a +compliment, God save me!" + +"You've saved your face, Mrs. Terhune. Go on!" + +Jean had begun to resent, but the explanation mollified her. + +"More tea," she said quietly, "and you might stir the dregs a mite, Mrs. +McAdam; it's plain sinful to let the strength go to waste." + +"If I was Theodora Glenn," Mary Terhune went on, monotonously stirring +the cold liquid in her cup, "I'd have my eye on that girl of hers." + +And now the ingredients were prepared for the mixing! + +"What's Priscilla Glenn got to do with Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" Mrs. McAdam +asked sharply, fixing her little ferret eyes on the speaker. + +Long Jean bridled again and interjected: + +"And for why not? Young folks is young folks, and there ain't too many +boys for the gels. What with the States and the toll to death, the gels +can't be too particular, not casting my flings at Jerry-Jo, either. He's +a handsome lad and will get a footing some day. Glenn's girl ain't none +too good for him; he'd bring her to her senses. All that dancing and +fiddle-scraping at Master Farwell's is not to my liking. The goings-on +are evil-looking to my mind. The girl always was a parcel of +whim-whams--made up of odds and ends, as it was, of her fore-runners. +What _all_ the children of the Glenns might have been--Priscilla is!" + +"So Jerry-Jo's fixed his bold eyes on the girl?" asked Mary McAdam. "It +bodes no good for her. She's a sunny creature and mighty taking in her +ways. I wish her no ill, and I hate to think of Jerry-Jo shadowing her +life till she forgets to dance and sing. For my part, I wish the master +were twenty-five years younger and could play for the lass to dance to +the end of their days." + +"And a poor outlook for me!" grumbled Jean humorously. "Another cup of +the tea, Mary Terhune, and make it stronger. I begin to feel the bitter +in my toes." + +And while this talk and more like it was permeating Kenmore, Jerry-Jo, +adorned and uncomfortable, did his own thinking and planned his own plans +after the manner of his mixed inheritance. He could not settle to any +task or give heed to any temptation from the States until he had made +Priscilla secure. The girl's age in no wise daunted McAlpin. His eighteen +years were all that were to be considered; he knew what he wanted, what +he meant to have. He could wait, he could bide the fulfillment of his +hopes, but one big, compelling subject at a time was all he could master. + +He secretly and furiously objected to the dancing and visits in Farwell's +cottage. He was ashamed to voice this feeling, for Farwell was his friend +and had taught him all he knew, but Farwell's age did not in the least +blind Jerry-Jo to the fact that he was a man, and he did not enjoy seeing +Priscilla so free and easy with any other of the male sex, be he ancient +enough to topple into the grave. + +"She'll dance for me--for me!" the young fellow ground his teeth. "I'll +make her forget to prance and grin unless she does it for me. The +master's just training her away from me and putting notions in her head. +I'll take her to the States--maybe her dancing will help us both there. +I don't mean to drudge as Jamsie Hornby does! Better things for me!" + +Sex attraction swayed Jerry-Jo madly in those days and he thought it +love, as many a better man had done before him. The blood of his mother +controlled him largely and he wished that he might carry the girl off to +his wigwam, and, at his leisure, with beads and blankets, or other less +tangible methods, win her and conquer her. But present conditions held +the boy in check and compelled him to adopt more modern tactics. He +stole, when he couldn't beg, from his poor father all the money Jerry +wrenched from an occasional day's work. With this he bought books for +Priscilla, vaguely realizing that these would most interest her, but his +selection often made her laugh. Piqued by her indifference, Jerry-Jo +plotted a thing that led, later, to tragic results. Remembering the +favour Priscilla had long ago shown for the book from Far Hill Place, he +decided to utilize the taste of the absent owner, and the owner himself, +for his own ends, not realizing that Priscilla had never connected the +cripple Jerry-Jo had described, with the musician of the magic summer +afternoon that had set her life in new currents. + +It was an easy matter to enter the Far Hill Place, and, where one was +not troubled with conscience, a simple thing to select at random, but +with economy, books from the well-filled shelves. These gifts presently +found their way to Priscilla, cunningly disguised as mail packages. +Inadvertently the very book Priscilla had once cried over came to her and +touched her strangely. + +"Why should he send me these--send me this?" she asked Jerry-Jo, who had +brought the package to her. + +"He always wanted you to have it. I told you that; he remembers, I +suppose, and wants you to have it. He said it was more yours than his." +To test her Jerry-Jo was hiding behind Travers. + +"I'd walk a hundred miles over the rock on bare feet to thank him," the +girl replied, her big eyes shining. And with the words there entered into +Jerry-Jo's distorted imagination a concrete and lasting jealousy of poor +Dick Travers, who was innocent of any actual memory of Priscilla Glenn. +Travers at that time was studying as few college men do, always with the +spur of lost years and a big ambition lashing him on. + +During that winter the stolen books from the Far Hill Place caused +Priscilla much wonderment and some little embarrassment. She had to keep +them secret owing to her father's sentiment, and, for some reason, she +did not confide in Farwell. This new and unexpected interest in her life +was so foreign to anything with which the master had to do that she felt +no inclination to share it. + +"But I cannot understand," she often said to Jerry-Jo. "I'd like to write +to him. Do you think you could find out for me where he is? That he +should even remember me! I would not have him think me so ungrateful as +I must seem." + +She and Jerry-Jo were in the path leading to Lonely Farm from Kenmore as +she spoke, and suddenly something the young fellow said brought her to a +sharp standstill. + +"Oh! I suppose, after your cutting up in the woods that day he wants to +make you remember him." + +This was an outburst that Jerry-Jo permitted himself without forethought. +He was using Travers as an old tribeman might have used torture, to test +his own bravery and endurance, but the effect upon Priscilla was so +startling and unexpected that he fell back bewildered. + +"In--the--the--woods?" she gasped. + +"Sure. That time your father drove you home." + +For a full moment Priscilla stared helplessly, then she began to see +light. + +"Do you mean," she gasped, "that he who made me dance--was the boy of the +Hill Place?" + +"As if you did not know it!" Jerry-Jo grunted. + +"But Jerry-Jo you said he--that boy was a poor, twisted thing, ugly past +all belief, while he who played and laughed that day was like an angel of +light just showing me the way to heaven!" + +And now Jerry-Jo's dark face was not pleasant to look upon. + +"Can't a twisted thing become straight?" he muttered; "can't a devil trap +himself out like an--an angel?" + +"Oh! Jerry-Jo, he who played for me in the woods could never have been +evil. Why, all his life he had been making himself into something big +and fine. He put into words the things I had always thought and dreamed +about--an ideal was what he called it! And to think I never knew! And he +remembered and wanted to be kind! I shall worship him now while I live. +And when he comes back to the Hill Place I will go and thank him, even +if my father should kill me. I shall never be happy until I can explain. +What a stupid he must think me!" + +After that the secret became the sacredest thing in Priscilla's life and +the most tormenting in Jerry-Jo's. They were both at ages when such an +occurrence would appeal to a girl's sentimentality and a young man's +hatred. + +The family did not return to the Hill Place for many summers, and only +once during the following years did Priscilla's name pass Travers's +lips. + +Apropos of something they were talking about he said to Helen Travers: "I +wonder what has become of that little dancing dervish up in Canada? She +wasn't plain, ordinary stuff, but I suppose she'll be knocked into shape. +Maybe that half-breed, Jerry-Jo, will get her when she's been reduced to +his level. There are not girls enough to go around up there, I fancy. +That little thing, though, was too spiritual to be crushed and +remodelled. As she danced that day, her scarlet cape flying out in the +breeze, she looked like a living flame darting up from the red rock. +And those awful words she uttered--poor little pagan! Jerry-Jo told +me afterward what the lure of the States meant: it's a provincial +expression. Mother, if the lure should ever control that girl of Lonely +Farm I wish we might greet her, for safety's sake." + +But it was not likely that either of the Traverses for a moment conceived +of the reality of Priscilla leaving the In-Place, and in time even the +memory of her became blurred to Dick by the eternal verities of his +strenuous young life. + +Gradually his lameness disappeared until a slight hesitation at times was +all that remained. Five years of college, two abroad--one with Helen, one +with Doctor Ledyard--and then Richard Thornton Travers (Helen had, when +he went to college, insisted for the first time upon the middle name) +hung out his modest sign--it looked brazenly glaring to him--under that +of Thomas R. Ledyard, and nervously awaited the first call upon him. He +was twenty-five when he started life, and Priscilla Glenn, back in +forgotten Kenmore, was nearing nineteen, with Jerry-Jo in hot pursuit +behind her. As to Anton Farwell, there was no doubt about his age now. +Not even the very old called him young, and there was a pathos about him +that attracted the attention of those with whom he had lived so long. + +"He looks haunted," Mary Terhune ventured; "he starts at times when one +speaks sudden, real pitiful like. The look of his eyes, too, has the +queer flash of them as sees forward as well as back. Do you mind, Mrs. +McAdam, how 'tis said that them as comes nigh to drowning have a glimpse +on before as well as the picture of all that has past?" + +"I've heard the same," nodded Mary McAdam. + +"Belike the master remembers and often looks to the end of his journey. +Well, he's been a good harmless sort, as men go. He's kept the children +out of trouble far more than one could expect, and he's been a merciful +creature to humans and beasts. I wonder what he had in his life before he +washed up from the _La Belle_?" + +All this seemed to end the discussion. + +Mary McAdam was an important personage about that time. The White Fish +Lodge had become famous. Without bar or special privilege of any sort, +the house was patronized by the best class of tourist. Mary was a born +proprietress, and, while she extracted the last penny due her, always +gave full value in return. She and Mary Terhune did the cooking; a bevy +of clean, young Indian girls from Wyland Island served as waitresses and +maids, their quaint, keen reserve was charming, and no better public +house could have been found on the Little or Big Bay. + +Priscilla drifted to the Lodge as naturally as a flower turns to the sun. +The easy-going people, the laughter and merriment appealed strongly to +her, and again did she cause Jerry-Jo serious displeasure and arouse her +father's lurking suspicions. + +"Watch her! watch her!" was his warning, and Theodora returned to her +fears and tears. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Anton Farwell had, little by little, accepted the fate of those who, +deprived of many blessings, learn to depend on a few. As the remaining +senses are sharpened by the loss of one, so in this man's life the +cramping process, begun by his own wrongdoing, and prolonged and +completed by other conditions, had the effect of focussing all his power +on the atoms that went to the making up of the daily record of his days. +Had he kept a diary it would have been interesting from its very lack of +large interest. And yet, with all this narrowing down, a certain fineness +and purpose evolved that were both touching and inspiring. He never +complained, not even to himself. After recognizing the power which +Ledyard held in his life, he relinquished the one hope that had held him +to the past. Then, for a year or two, the light of the doctor's contempt, +which had been turned on him, took the zest from the small efforts he had +made for better living and caused him to distrust himself. He saw himself +what he knew Ledyard thought him--a mean, cowardly creature, and yet, in +his better moments, he knew this was not so. + +"Men have made friends of mice and insects in prison," he argued; "they +have kept their reason by so doing; why, in heaven's name, shouldn't I +play with these people here and make life possible?" + +But try as he might he found his courage failing, and more and more he +dwelt apart and clung to the few--Priscilla Glenn, Mary McAdam, and old +Jerry McAlpin--who regarded him in the light of a priest to whom they +might confess freely. + +Then one of Farwell's dogs died and he was genuinely anxious at the +effect this had upon him. + +"So this is what I've come to!" he muttered as he buried the poor brute, +while the tears fell from his eyes and the other dog whined dolorously +beside him--"broken hearted over--a mongrel!" But he got another dog! + +For a time Farwell vigorously set himself against depending upon +Priscilla Glenn as a support in his narrowing sphere. Many things +threatened such a friendship--Nathaniel, Jerry-Jo, and the girl +herself--for Priscilla, during the first years of Nathaniel's relaxed +severity, was like a bee sipping every flower, and Farwell was not at +all confident that anything he had to give would hold even her passing +interest for long. Then, too, like a many-wounded creature, he dreaded +a new danger, even though for a moment it gave promise of comfort. But +finally Priscilla got her bearings and more and more brought all her +powers to bear upon one ambition. + +The childish madness that prompted her to run away from anything that +hurt or angered her, gradually disappeared, and in its place came a staid +determination to seek her fortunes, soon, in some place distant from +Kenmore. + +The tourists opened a new vista to her, but many of them, with stupid +ignorance, mistook her position and traditions. She was offered +occupations as cook, maid, or laundress. She had sense of humour enough +to laugh at these, and often wished she dared repeat them for her +father's edification. + +"The daughter of the King of Lonely Farm," she said to Farwell one day +with her mocking smile and comical courtesy "is bidden to the service of +Mrs. Flighty High as skivvy. If this comes to the king's ears, 'twill +mean the head of Mrs. Flighty High!" + +Farwell joined her in her amusement and felt the charm of her coming +womanhood. + +"But there is one up at the Lodge," Priscilla went on more gravely, "who +is not such a wild fool. She has a sick baby, and for two nights she and +I have watched and tended together. She says I have the touch and nature +of the true nurse and she has told me how in the States, and England, +too, they train young girls in this work. She says we Canadians are in +great demand, and the calling is a wonderful one, Master Farwell." + +This interested Anton Farwell a good deal and he and Priscilla discussed +it often after the woman who had just broached it had departed. It seemed +such a normal, natural opening for Priscilla if the time really came for +her to go away. The doubt that she would eventually go was slight in +Farwell's heart. He, keener than others, saw the closing-in of +conditions. He was not blind to Jerry-Jo's primitive attempts to attract +the girl's attention, but he was not deceived. When the moment came that +Priscilla recognized the half-breed's real thought, Farwell knew her +quick impulse would, as of old, be to fly away. She was like a wild bird, +he often pondered; she would give to great lengths, flutter close, and +love tenderly, but no restraining or harsh touch could do aught but set +her to flight. + +At twenty-three Jerry-Jo surlily and passionately came to the conclusion +that he must in some way capture his prize. Other youths were wearing +gaudy ties and imperilling their Sunday bests; he was letting precious +time slip. Then, too, by Farwell's advice, old Jerry was growing rigid +along financial lines, and at last the _States_ took definite shape in +Jerry-Jo's mind, but he meant to have Priscilla before he heeded the +lure. With all his brazen conceit and daring he intuitively knew that +the girl had never thought of him as he thought of her, and he dared not +awaken her by legitimate means. Quite in keeping with his unrestrained +nature, he plotted, indirectly, to secure what otherwise might escape +him. Fully realizing Nathaniel's attitude toward his daughter, counting +his distorted conceptions and foolish pride, Jerry-Jo began to construct +an obstacle that would shut Priscilla from her father's protection and +cause her to accept what others had to offer--others, being always and +ever, himself! + +Once Lonely Farm was closed to the girl, other houses in the serenely +moral In-Place would inevitably slam their doors. The cunning of the +half-breed was diabolic in its sureness. Anton Farwell could not assume +responsibility for Priscilla if all Kenmore turned its back on her, and +in that hour the girl would, of course, come running or crawling--never +dancing--to him, Jerry-Jo! + +It was all for her own good, the evil fellow thought. + +"I'll be kind to her when I get her. I'm only playing her with the hook +in her mouth." + +But Jerry-Jo was scheming without considering the Lure, which never was +long absent from Priscilla's mind at that time. + +One early September afternoon Priscilla presented herself at Farwell's +cabin in so startling a manner that she roused the man as nothing +previously in his association with her had ever done. + +He was sitting at the west window of his living-room, his back toward the +door leading to the Green. For a wonder, what he was reading had absorbed +him, and he was far and away from the In-Place. He had taken to fine, old +literature lately and had found, to his delight, that his mind was +capable of appreciating it. + + "Wisdom, slow product of laborious years, + The only fruit that life's cold winter bears, + Thy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay, + By the fierce storm of passion torn away; + Should some remain in rich, gen'rous soil, + They long lie hid, and must be raised with toil; + Faintly they struggle with inclement skies, + No sooner born than the poor planter dies." + +With such word-comfort did Farwell dig, from other's experiences, crude +guidings for himself! And at that moment a stir outside the open door +caused him to turn and confront what, in the excited moment, seemed an +apparition from the past, which, for him, was sealed and barred. + +"Good Lord!" he ejaculated under his breath and started to his feet. A +visitor from the Lodge apparently had descended upon him. + +"I beg pardon," he said aloud, and then a laugh, familiar and ringing, +brought the colour to his pale, thin face. + +The girl came in, threw back the veil from her merry face, and confronted +Farwell. + +"Miss Priscilla Glenn, sir! Behold her in the battered finery of the +place she is going to--to grace some day!" + +Then Priscilla wheeled about lightly and displayed her gown to Farwell's +astonished eyes. + +"Cast-offs," she explained; "the Honourable Mrs. Jones from the States +left them with Mrs. McAlpin for the poor. Just imagine the 'poor' +glinting around in this gay silk gown all frayed at the hem and in holes +under the arms! The hat and veil, too, go with the smart frock; likewise +the scarf of rainbow colours. But, oh! Mr. Farwell, how do I look as a +real lady in my damaged outfit?" + +Farwell stared without speaking. He had grown so used to the change in +the girl since the time when he had prevailed upon Glenn to loosen the +rein upon her, that the even stream of their intercourse had been +unruffled. He had passed from teacher to friendly guide, from guide to +good comrade; but here he was suddenly confronting her--man to woman! + +All his misfortune and limitations had but erected a shield of age about +him beneath which smouldered dangerously, but unconsciously, all the +forbidden and denied passions and sentiments of a male creature of early +middle life. + +In thinking afterward of the shock Priscilla gave him, Farwell was always +glad to remember that his first thought was for her, her danger, her +need. + +"I declare!" he exclaimed. "I did not know you, Priscilla Glenn." + +His tone had a new ring in it, a vibration of defence--the astonished +male on guard against the attack of a subtle force whose power he could +not estimate. + +"And no wonder. I did not know myself when I first saw myself. Do you +know, Mr. Farwell, I never thought about my--my face, much, but it is +really a--very nice face, isn't it? As faces go, I mean?" + +"Yes," Farwell returned, looking at her critically and speaking slowly. +"Yes, you are very--beautiful. I had not thought of it before, either." + +"Drop me down, now, in the States, Mr. Farwell, and I fancy that with my +looks and my dancing I might--well, go! What do you think?" + +She was preening herself before a small mirror and did not notice the +elderly man, who, under her fascination, was being transformed. + +"You're a regular Frankenstein," he muttered, while the consciousness +of the blue eyes in the dusky skin, the long slenderness of her body, +and the hue of her strange hair grew upon him. "Do you know what a +Frankenstein is?" + +"No." And now Priscilla, weary of her play and self-contemplation, turned +about and took a chair opposite Farwell. "Tell me." + +So he told her, but she shook her head. + +"You've only helped me to find myself; you did not make me," she said +with a little sigh. "Oh, Mr. Farwell, I do--much thinking up at Lonely +Farm. The winters are long, and the nights, too. You know there is a +queer little plant beside the spring at the foot of our garden; it has +roots long enough and thick enough for a thing twice its size. It grew +strong and sure underground before it ventured up. It blossomed last +summer; an odd flower it had. I think I am like that. You've taught me +to--well, know myself. I shall not shame you, Master Farwell. You know we +of the lonesome In-Place make friends with strange objects; everything in +nature talks to us, if we will but listen. You have taught me to listen, +too. Back a piece in the woods are a strong young hemlock and a little +white birch. For years I have watched and tended them. When I was a small +girl I likened the hemlock to you, sir, and there was I, leaning and +huddling close to you, like the ghostly stripling of the woods. Well, I +noticed to-day, Mr. Farwell, the birch stands quite securely; it doesn't +bend for support on the hemlock, but it is standing friendly all the +same. I think"--and here Priscilla clasped her hands close and +outstretched them--"I think I am soon going away!" + +Her eyes were tear-dimmed, her face very earnest. + +"I wish--you would give up the childish folly, Priscilla." A fear rose +in Farwell's eyes. "What could you, such an one as you have become, do +out--in the States? It is madness--sheer, brutal madness." + +Priscilla shook her head. + +"You think it childish folly? Why, I have never lost sight of it for a +day. You have not understood me if you have imagined that. I have always +known I must go. Lately I have felt the nearness of the going, and it is +the _how_ to break away and begin that puzzle me. I am ready." + +"Priscilla, you are a wild child still, playing with dangerous tools. +You cannot comprehend the trouble into which you are willing, in your +blindness, to plunge. Why, you are a--a woman; a beautiful one! Do you +know what the world does with such, unless they are guarded and +protected?" + +"What does it do?" The true eyes held Farwell commandingly, and with a +sense of dismay he looked back at the only world he really knew: the +world of his own ungoverned passions and selfishness. A kind of shame +came over him, and he felt he was no safe guide. There were worlds and +worlds! He had sold his birthright; this woman, bent upon finding hers, +might inherit a fairer kingdom. + +"What does it do, Master Farwell?" + +"I do not know. It depends upon--you. It is like a great quarry--I have +read somewhere something like this--we must all mould and chisel our +characters; some of us crush them and chip them. It isn't always the +world's fault. God help us!" + +Priscilla looked at him with large, shining eyes and the maternal in her +rose to the call of his sad recognition of failure where she was to go +with such brave courage. + +"Do not fear for me," she said gently; "'twould be a poor return if I +failed, after all you have done for me." + +"I--what have I done?" + +"Everything. Have you ever thought what sort I would have been had Lonely +Farm been my only training?" she smiled faintly, and her girlish face, in +the setting of the faded hat and soiled veil, struck Farwell again by its +change, which now seemed to have settled into permanency. Of course it +was only the ridiculous fashion of the world he once knew, but he could +not free himself of the fancy that Priscilla was more her real self in +the shabby trappings than she had ever been in the absurd costumes of the +In-Place. + +With the acceptance of the fact that the girl really meant to get away +and at once, a wave of dreariness swept over him. He thought of the time +on ahead when his last vital interest would be taken from him. Then he +aroused from his stupor and brought his mind to bear upon the inevitable; +the here and now. + +"It's a big drop in your ambition, Priscilla," he said; "you used to +think you could dance your way to your throne." + +"There is no throne now, Master Farwell. I'm just thinking all the time +of My Road." + +"But there's the Heart's Desire at the end, you know." + +"Yes; but I do not think I would want it to be a throne." + +"What then?" + +"Oh! love--my own life--the giving and giving just where I long to give. +It's splendid to tramp along your road, if it _is_ your road, and be +jolly and friendly with those you care for. It will all be so different +from Kenmore, where one has to take what one must." + +"I wonder how Jerry-Jo will feel about all this?" + +"Jerry-Jo! And what right has he to think at all--about me?" + +The girl's eyes flashed with mischief and daring. + +"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed with amusement. "Just big, Indian-boy Jerry-Jo! +We've played together and quarrelled together, but you're all wrong, +Master Farwell, if you think he cares about me! He knows better than +that--far, far, better." + +But even as she spoke the light and fun left her eyes. She looked older, +more thoughtful. + +"Isn't it queer?" she said after a pause. + +"What, Priscilla?" + +"Oh, life and people and the things that go to their making? You're quite +wrong about Jerry-Jo. I'm sure you're wrong." + +Then suddenly she sprang up. + +"I must go," she said abruptly; "go and exchange these rags for my own +plain things. I only wanted to surprise you, sir; and how deadly serious +we have grown." + +She passed out of the cottage without a word more. Farwell watched her +across the Green and up to the Lodge. He was disturbed and restless. The +old fever of escape overcame him. With the thought of Priscilla's flight +into the open, he strained against the trap that Ledyard had caught him +in. The guide who, he knew, never permitted him to escape his vigilance, +became a new and alarming obstacle, and Farwell set his teeth grimly. +Then he muttered: + +"Curse him! curse him!" and an emotion which he had believed was long +since dead rose hotly in his consciousness. Before the dread spectre, +suddenly imbued with vitality, Farwell reeled and covered his face. +Murder was in his heart--the old madness of desire to wipe out, by any +means, that which barred his way to what he wanted. + +"My God!" he moaned; "my God! I--I thought I--was master. I thought it +was dead in me." + +Farwell ate no evening meal that night. Early he closed and locked his +outer door, drew the dark green shades, and lighted his lamp. His hands +were clammy and cold, and he could not blot out with book or violin the +horror of Charles Martin's face as it looked up at him that night so long +ago. Way on toward morning Farwell paced his room trying to forget, but +he could not. + +But Priscilla, after leaving Farwell, dressed again in her plain +serviceable gown and hat, had made her way toward the farm. Her happy, +light-hearted mood was past; she felt unaccountably gloomy, and as she +walked on she sought to explain herself to herself, and presently +Jerry-Jo came into focus and would not stir from her contemplation. Yes, +it was Jerry-Jo's personality that disturbed her, and it was Farwell's +words that had torn the shield she herself had erected, and set the truth +free. Yes, she had played with Jerry-Jo; she had tested her coquetry and +charm upon him for lack of better material. In her outbreaks of youthful +spirits she had claimed him as prey because the others of his sex were +less desirable. Jerry-Jo had that subtle, physical attraction that +responded to her youthful allurements, but the young fellow himself, +taken seriously, repelled her, and Farwell had taken Jerry-Jo seriously! + +That was it! She was no longer a child. She was a woman and must remember +it. Undoubtedly Jerry-Jo himself had never given the matter a moment's +deep thought. Well, she must take care that he never did. Jerry-Jo in +earnest would be unbearable. + +And then, just as she reached the pasture bars separating her father's +farm from the red rock highway, Jerry-Jo McAlpin strode in sight from the +wood path into which the highway ran. She waited for him and gave him a +nervous smile as he came near. His first words startled her out of her +dull mood. + +"I've been up to the Hill Place. Him and her's there for a few days." + +"Him and her!" Priscilla repeated, her face flushing. "Oh, him and her!" + +"Sure!" McAlpin was holding her with a hard, fixed gaze. + +In the mesh that was closing about Priscilla, strangely enough names +were always largely eliminated. They might have altered her course later +on, might have held her to the past, but Kenmore dealt briefly with +personalities and visualized whatever it could. The name Travers had +rarely, if ever, been spoken in Priscilla's presence. "The Hill Place +folks" was the title found sufficient for general use. + +"And I was remembering," Jerry-Jo went on, "how once you said you wanted +to thank him for--for the books. We might take the canoe, come to-morrow, +and the day is fine, and pay a visit." + +Still Priscilla did not notice the gleam in McAlpin's keen eyes. + +"Oh! if I only dared, Jerry-Jo! What an adventure it would be, to be +sure. And how good of you to think of it." + +"What hinders?" + +"Father would never forgive me!" + +"And are you always to be at the beck and whistle of your father even in +your pleasures?" + +Priscilla was in just the attitude of mind to receive this suggestion +with appreciation. + +"There's no reason why I shouldn't go if I want to," she said with an +uplift of her head. + +"And--don't you want to?" Jerry-Jo's eyes were taking in the loveliness +of the raised face as the setting sun fell upon it. + +"Yes, I do want to! I'll go, Jerry-Jo." + +Then McAlpin came close to her and said in a low voice: + +"Priscilla, give us a kiss for pay." + +So taken out of herself was the girl, so overpowered by the excitement +of adventure, that before she realized her part in the small drama of +passionate youth, she gave a mocking laugh and twisted her lips saucily. + +Jerry-Jo had her in his arms on the instant, and the hot kiss he pressed +on her mouth roused her to fury. + +"If you ever touch me again," she whispered, struggling into freedom, +"I'll hate you to the last day of my life!" + +So had she spoken to her father years ago; so would she always speak when +her reservations were threatened. "I declare I am afraid to go with you +to-morrow." + +McAlpin fell back in shamed contrition. + +"You need not be afraid," he muttered. "I reckon I was bidding +you--good-bye. Him and me is different. Once you see him and he sees you, +it's good-bye to Jerry-Jo McAlpin." + +Something in the words and tone of humility brought Priscilla, with a +bound, back to a kindlier mood. After all, it was a tribute that McAlpin +was paying her. She must hold him in check, that was all. + +They parted with no great change. There had been a flurry, but it had +served to clear the atmosphere--for her at least. + +But Nathaniel, that evening in the kitchen, managed to arouse in the girl +the one state of mind needed to drive her on her course. + +"What was the meaning of that scuffling by the bars a time back?" he +asked, eyeing Priscilla with the old look of suspicious antagonism. Every +nerve in the girl's body twitched with resentment and her spirit flared +forth. She shielded herself behind the one flimsy subterfuge that Glenn +could never understand or tolerate. + +"A kiss you mean. What's a kiss? You call that a scuffle?" + +Theodora, who was washing the tea dishes while Priscilla wiped them, took +her usual course and began to cry dispiritedly and forlornly. + +"What's between you and--McAlpin?" Nathaniel asked, scowling darkly. + +"Between us? What need for anything between us?" + +Priscilla ceased smiling and looked defiant. + +"Maybe you better marry that half-breed and have done with it." + +"It's more like--would _he_ marry me?" + +This was unfortunate. + +"And why not?" Nathaniel shook the ashes from his pipe angrily. "A little +more such performance as I saw to-day and no decent man will marry you! +As for Jerry-Jo, he'll marry you if I say so! You foul my nest, miss, and +out you go!" + +"Husband! husband!" And with this Theodora dropped a cup, one of Glenn's +mother's cups, and somehow this added fire to his fury. + +"And when the time comes, wife, you make your choice: Go with her, who +you have trained into what she is, or stay with me who has been defied in +his own home, by them nearest and closest to him." + +Priscilla breathed fast and hard. The tangible wall of misunderstanding +between her and her father stifled her to-night as it never had before. +Again she realized the finality of something--the breaking of the old +ties, the helpless sense of groping for what lay hidden, but none the +less real, just on before. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The next day was gloriously clear and threateningly warm. Such days do +not come to Kenmore in September except to lure the unheeding to acts of +folly. And at two o'clock in the afternoon Priscilla, from the kitchen +door, saw Jerry-Jo paddling his canoe in still, Indian fashion around +Lone Tree Island. Theodora was off erranding, and Nathaniel, as far as +human knowledge went, was in some distant field; he had started off +directly after dinner. Priscilla was ready for her adventure. With the +natural desire of youth, she had decked herself out in her modest +finery--a stiffly starched white gown of a cheap but pretty design, a +fluff of soft lace at throat and wrist, and, over it, the old red cape +that years before had added to her appearance as she danced on the rocks. +Perhaps remembering that, she had utilized the garment and was thankful +that cloth lasted so long in Kenmore! + +The coquetry of girlhood rose happily in Priscilla's heart. Jerry-Jo had +become again simply a link in her chain of events; he had lost the +importance the flash of the evening before had given him; he was not +forgiven, but for the time he was, as a human being, forgotten. He was +Jerry-Jo who was to paddle her to her Heart's Desire! That was it, and +the old words, set to music of her own, were the signals used to attract +McAlpin's attention. But the merry call brought Glenn from out the barn +just as the canoe touched the rocks lightly, and Priscilla prepared to +step in. + +"Where you two going?" he shouted in the tone that always roused the +worst in Priscilla's nature. Jerry-Jo paused, paddle in air, but his +companion whispered: + +"Go on!" To Nathaniel she flung back: "We're going to have a bit of fun, +and why not, father? I'm tired of staying at home." + +This was unfortunate: on the home question Glenn was very clear and +decided. + +"Come back!" he ordered, but the little canoe had shot out into the +Channel. "Hi, there McAlpin, do you hear?" + +"Go on!" again whispered Priscilla, and Jerry-Jo heard only her soft +command, for his senses were filled with the loveliness of her charming, +defiant face set under the broad brim of a hat around which was twined +a wreath of natural flowers as blue as the girl's laughing eyes. + +Nathaniel, defied and helpless, stood by the barn door and impotently +fumed as the canoe rounded Lone Tree Island and was lost to his +infuriated sight. + +"You'll catch it," Jerry-Jo comforted when pursuit was impossible, and he +had the responsibility of the rebel on his hands. "I wouldn't be in your +place, and you need not drag me in, for I'd have turned back had you said +the word." + +A fleeting contempt stirred the beauty of the girl's face for a moment, +and then she told him of that which was seething in her heart. + +"What does it matter, Jerry-Jo? All my life, ever since I can remember, +I have been growing surely to what is now near at hand. I cannot abide my +father; nor can he find comfort in me. Why should I darken the lives of +my parents and have no life of my own? The lure of the States has always +been in my thought and now it calls near and loud." + +McAlpin stared helplessly at her, and her beauty, enhanced by her unusual +garments, moved him unwholesomely. + +"What you mean?" he muttered. + +"Only this: It would be no strange thing did a boy start for the States. +A little money, a ticket on a steamer, and--pouf! Off the boys and men +go to make their lives. Well, then, some day you will--find me gone, +Jerry-Jo. Gone to make my life. Will you miss me?" + +This question caused McAlpin to stop paddling. + +"You won't be--let!" he murmured; "you--a girl!" + +"I, a girl!" Priscilla laughed scornfully. "You will see. This day, after +I have thanked him up yonder, I am going to ask his mother to help me get +away. Surely a lady such as she could help me. I will not ask much of +her, only the guiding hand to a safe place where I can--live! Oh! can you +understand how all my life I have been smothered and stifled? I often +wonder what sort I will be--out there! I'm willing to suffer while I +learn, but Jerry-Jo"--and here the excited voice paused--"I have a +strange feeling of--myself! I sometimes feel as if there were two of me, +the one holding, demanding, and protecting the other. I will not have men +always making my life and shielding me; the woman of me will have its +way. Men and boys never know this feeling." + +And Jerry-Jo could, of course, understand nothing of this, but the thing +he had set out to do, more in rude, brutish fun than anything else, +assumed graver purpose. A new and ugly look grew in his bold eyes, a +sinister smile on his red mouth, which showed the points of his white, +fang-like teeth. But Priscilla, too absorbed with her own thoughts, did +not notice. + +It was four o'clock when the canoe touched the landing spot of Far Hill +Place, and Priscilla sprang out. + +"I'll bide here; don't be long," said McAlpin. + +But Priscilla paused and glanced up at the sky. + +"It's darkening," she faltered, a shyness overcoming her. "I +smell--thunder. Don't you think you better come up with me Jerry-Jo? +Suppose they are not at home?" + +"They'll be back soon in that case, and as for a shower, that would +hasten them and you would be under shelter. I can turn the canoe over me +and be dry as a mouse in a hayrick. I'll not go with you, not I. Do your +own part, with them looking on as will enjoy it." + +"I believe you are--jealous, Jerry-Jo." This was said idly and more to +fill in an awkward pause than for anything else. + +"And much good that would do me, after what you've just said. If you're +bound for the devil, Priscilla, 'tis little power I have to stay you." + +"I'm not--for the devil!" Priscilla flung back, and started sturdily up +the hill path toward the house hidden among the trees. + +Out of McAlpin's sight, the girl went more slowly, while she sought to +arrange her mode of attack. If her host were what he once was, he would +make everything easy after she recalled herself to him. As for the +mother, Priscilla had only a dim memory of her, but something told her +that the call would be a happy and memorable one after the first moment. + +A bit of tune cheered the girl; a repeating of the Road Song helped even +more, for it resurrected most vividly the young fellow who had introduced +music and happiness into her life. + +"I'll be doshed!" she cried. The word had not passed her lips for years; +it brought a laugh and a complete restoration of poise. So she reached +the house. Smoke was issuing from the chimney. A fire had been made even +on this hot day, but like enough it was to dry the place after the years +of closed doors and windows. Evidently it was a many-houred fire, for the +plume of smoke was faint and steady. The broad door was set wide but the +windows were still boarded up at the front of the house, though the side +ones had escaped that protection. + +Priscilla knocked and waited. No reply or sound came in response, and +presently a low muttering of distant thunder broke. + +"That will bring them in short order," she said, "and surely they will +not object if I make myself comfortable until they come." + +She went inside. The room had the appearance of one from which the owner +had long been absent, that unaccountable, vacant look, although a +work-bag hung on the back of a chair by the roaring fire, and a blot of +oil lay on the table near the lamp which had evidently been recently +filled. Back of these tokens lay a wide sense of desolation. + +For a moment Priscilla hesitated before sitting down; her courage failed, +but a second thought reconciled conditions with a brief stay after long +absence, and she decided to wait. + +And while she waited, suddenly and alarmingly, the storm burst! The +darkness of the room and the wooded space outside had deceived her: there +was no escape now! + +She was concerned for the people she had come to see. Jerry-Jo, she knew, +would crawl under his boat and be as dry as a tortoise in its shell. But +those others! + +With this thought she set about, mechanically, making the room +comfortable. She piled on fresh wood and noticed that it was so wet that +it sputtered dangerously. Presently the wind changed sharply, and a blast +of almost icy coldness carried the driving rain halfway across the floor. + +It was something of a struggle to close the heavy door, for it opened +outward, and Priscilla was drenched by the time it was made secure. +Breathing hard, she made her way to the fire and knelt before it. The +glow drew her attention from the darkness of the space back and around +her. + +It was unfortunate and depressing, and she had no choice but to make +herself as comfortable as she might, though a sense of painful uneasiness +grew momentarily. At first she imagined it was fear of what she must +encounter upon her return home; then she felt sure it was her dread of +meeting the people for whom she had risked so much. Finally Jerry-Jo +loomed in the foreground of her thought and an entirely new terror was +born in her soul. + +"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed aloud as his name passed her lips. "Jerry-Jo, to +be sure. My! how thankful I'd be to see him this instant!" + +And with the assertion she turned shudderingly toward the door. The gloom +behind her only emphasized her nervousness. + +"I'll--I'll have to go!" she whispered suddenly, while the wind and the +slashing of sleety rain defied her. "It will be better out of doors, bad +as it is!" + +The grim loneliness of four walls, compared with the dangers of the open, +was worse. But when Priscilla, trembling and panting, reached the door +and pushed, she found that the storm was pitting its strength against +hers and she could not budge it. + +"Oh, well," she half sobbed; "if I must, I must." And she stealthily +tiptoed back to the warmth and light as if fearing to arouse something, +she knew not what, in the dim place. + +There was no way of estimating time. The minutes were like hours and the +hours were like minutes while Priscilla sat alone. As a matter of fact, +it was after seven when steps, unmistakable steps, sounded on the porch +and carried both apprehension and relief to the storm-bound prisoner +inside. + +"Thank heaven!" breathed she, and sprang to her feet. She was midway in +the room when the door opened, and, as if flayed forward by the lashing +storm, Jerry-Jo broke into the shadow and drew the heavy oak door after +him. In a black panic of fear Priscilla saw him turn the key in the lock +before he spoke a word to her; then he came forward, flung his wet cap +toward the hearth, and laughed. + +"What's the matter?" he asked quickly as Priscilla's white face +confronted him. "Disappointed, I suppose. Do you begrudge me a bit of +warmth and shelter? God knows I'm drenched to the bone. The rain came up +from the earth as well as down from the clouds. It's a devil's storm and +no mistake. What you staring at, Priscilla? Had you forgotten me? Thought +me dead, and now you're looking at my ghost? Didn't I wait long enough +for you? Where are the--others?" + +This seemed to clarify and steady the situation and Priscilla gave a +slight laugh: + +"To be sure. You did not know. They--they were away. The storm came up +suddenly. I had to wait. You are wet through and through, Jerry-Jo. It's +good we have such a fire. You'll be comfortable in a moment. I'm glad you +came; I was getting--afraid." + +"Let's see if there is any oil in the lamp!" Jerry-Jo exclaimed. He was +in no mood for darkness himself. + +"They must have filled it before they went," Priscilla answered. "See, +there is some oil on the table." + +McAlpin struck a match and soon the room was flooded with a new +brightness that reached even to the far corners and seemed to set free +the real loneliness that held these two together. + +"I--I managed to keep this dry," McAlpin spoke huskily. "I always have +a bite with me when I take to the woods. Who can ever tell what may +happen!" + +He pushed a coarse sandwich toward Priscilla and began eating one +himself. + +"Go on!" he said. + +"I'm not hungry, Jerry-Jo, and I want to start back home at once." + +Jerry-Jo leered at her over his bread and meat. + +"What's your hurry? I want to get warm and dry before I set out again. +This is an all-nighter of a storm, if I know anything about it." + +"Get dry, of course, Jerry-Jo. It won't take long with this heat; then we +must start, storm or no storm." + +The old discomfort and unrest returned, and she fixed her eyes on +Jerry-Jo. + +"There's no great hurry," said he, munching away. "It's warm here and +cozy. What's got you, Priscilla? You was mighty keen to come, and you +ain't finished your errand yet. What's ailing you? No one could help the +storm, and we'd be swamped in the bay if we was there now." + +Priscilla got up and walked slowly toward the door, but without any +apparent reason Jerry-Jo arose also, and, still chewing his bread and +meat, backed away from the table, keeping himself between the girl and +whatever her object was. Noticing this, a real terror seized upon +Priscilla and she darted in the opposite direction, reached the hearth, +and was bending toward a heavy poker which lay there, before she herself +could have explained her motive. Jerry-Jo was alert. Tossing his food +upon the table as he strode forward, he gripped her wrist. + +"None of that!" he muttered. "What ails you, Priscilla?" They faced each +other at close range. + +"I--I am afraid of you!" + +At this McAlpin threw back his head and roared with laughter, releasing +her at the same time. With freedom Priscilla gained a bit of courage and +a keen sense of the necessity of calmness. She did not move away from +Jerry-Jo, but fixing him with her wide eyes she asked: + +"Are--are the--family here--here in Kenmore?" Suspicion and anger shook +the voice. The slow, tense words brought things down to fact. + +"No! God knows where they are! I don't know or care." + +Brought face to face with great danger, mental or physical, the majority +of people rise to the call. Priscilla knew now that she was in grave +peril--peril of a deeper kind than even her tormentor could realize. +Every nerve and emotion came to her defence. She would hold this creature +at bay as hunters hold the wild things of the woods when gun or club +fail. Then, after that, she would have to deal with what must inevitably +confront her at home. She seemed to be standing alone amid cruel and +unfamiliar foes, but she was calm! + +"You lied, then? What for?" + +"What do you think?" + +"You believe, by shutting me away from everything, every one, you can win +what otherwise you could not get?" It all seemed cruelly plain, now. She +felt she had always known it. + +"Something like that, yes. You'll come to me fast enough, after to-night. +Once you come I'll--I'll do the fair and square thing by you, Priscilla." + +The half-pleading caught the girl's thought. + +"You mean, by this device you will make me marry you? You'll blacken +my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous +and--marry me?" + +[Illustration: "'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you? +You'll blacken my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be +generous and--marry me?'"] + +Jerry-Jo dropped his bold, dark eyes. + +"I never cared for you, Jerry-Jo. I hate you, now!" + +At this McAlpin raised his head and a fierce red coloured his face. + +"You'll get over that!" he muttered. "Any port in a storm, you know. +You better not drive me now! I ain't--safe, and I've got you tight +for--to-night!" + +Suddenly the pure flame of spirituality flashed into the soul of +Priscilla Glenn. Alone, undefended, facing a hideous possibility, beyond +which lay a black certainty of desolation, she rose supreme to protect +something that her rudely aroused womanhood must defend, even by death! + +"You--beast!" she cried, and all her shrinking fear fell from her. "Go +back! Sit down! I have something to say to you--before----" She did not +finish, but the pause made Jerry-Jo understand that she recognized her +position. + +"I'll stand here, by God!" he almost shouted, and came close. + +The proximity of the rough, coarse body was the one thing the girl felt +she could not bear. She smelled the odour of his wet clothing, felt his +breath, and she shrank back a step. + +"This--this body, Jerry-Jo McAlpin," she whispered, "is all you can +touch. That, I will kill to-morrow--the next day--it does not matter. But +the soul of me shall haunt you while you live. Night and day it shall +torment and clutch you until it brings your sinful spirit to--to God!" + +"You--you devil!" cried McAlpin, all the superstitious fear of his mixed +blood chilling him. "You----" And then as if daring the fate she had it +in her power to evoke, he rushed toward her and clasped her close in his +strong arms. His face was bent over hers, his lips parted from his cruel +teeth, but he did not force them upon her. + +So here she was--she, Priscilla Glenn, in the jaws of death, she who +would have laughed, danced, and sang her way straight into happiness! +Here she was, with what on ahead--if she lived? + +She waited, she struggled, then she relaxed in the iron hold, and for a +moment, only a moment, lost the sense of reality. Presently words that +McAlpin was saying came to her in the black stillness of her +consciousness. + +"I had--to have you! Now that I've shown you my power, I can wait until +you come whining to me. I ain't going to hurt you! I want you as you are +when you come a-begging of me. I only wanted to prove to you that--I've +got you!" + +Again Priscilla was aware of the red warmth of the fire, the sickening +smell of drying wool, the loosening of the bands of McAlpin's arms. + +"You--you who boast that when you hunt, out of season, you shoot +one shot in the air in order to give a poor wild thing a chance of +escape--you bring me here with a lie; close every hope to me, +and--call that--victory! You--you--fiend! What do you mean?" + +She was standing free at last! She was so weak that she staggered to a +chair, fearing that McAlpin, seeing her need, might again lay hands upon +her. + +"I mean--that I've fired my shot!" Her words had caught his fancy. "You +have your chance to--to get away! But where? Where?" + +The dark face leered. + +"See! I'm going to leave you. Go out into the night. You can try for +your--your life, but in the end you'll come to me. I don't care what they +of Kenmore will say, I'll know you are--what you are, and sympathy will +be with me, gal, when I take you. And you'll know, once you come to me, +proper and asking, I'll do--I'll do the best any man could do--for--I +love you!" + +This was flung out desperately, defiantly. + +"Yes, I love you as--Jerry-Jo McAlpin knows how to love. It's his way. +Remember that!" + +Not a word rose to Priscilla's lips. She saw McAlpin turn and stride to +the door; she heard him turn the key and--she was alone! But a strange +thing happened just at that moment, a thing that did more to unnerve the +girl than anything that had gone before. As the heavy oak door slammed +after the retreating figure, the jar caused the tall clock, back among +the shadows of the far side of the room, to strike! One, two, three! +Then followed a whirring that faded into deathly silence. It was like the +voice of one, believed to be dead, speaking! + +Frightened, but thoroughly roused to her only hope, Priscilla staggered +to the door, clutched the key in cold, trembling fingers, and turned it +in the lock. Then, sinking upon her knees, she crept back to the fire, +keeping close to the wall. If an eye were pressed to a knothole in the +shutter it could not follow her. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Priscilla kept the fire alive. She laid the sticks and logs on +cautiously; she turned wide eyes now and again on the tall clock whose +white face gleamed pallidly among the shadows like a dead thing that had +used its last breath to speak a message. If the clock struck again +Priscilla felt that she might go mad. + +It was after midnight when Nature laid a commanding and relentless touch +upon the girl, and, crouching by the hearth, her head in her arms folded +upon a chair, she slept. + +Outside the storm sobbed itself into silence; the rain dripped +complainingly from the roof of the porch and then ceased. At five o'clock +the new day, rosy and full of cheer, made itself felt in the dim room +where Priscilla, breathing evenly and softly, still slept. No gleam of +brightness made its way through the heavy shutters or curtains, but a +consciousness of day at last roused the sleeper. At first the experience +through which she had passed made no demand upon her. She got painfully +upon her feet and looked about. The fire was but embers, the air was hot +and stifling, and then, with the thought of opening a door or window, the +grim spectre of the black hours lay warning touch upon her. She shrank +back and began again to--wait! Of course McAlpin would return--and what +lay before her when he did? Her strength was spent, lack of food----And +here her eyes fell on the broken fragments of stale bread and meat that +Jerry-Jo had tossed aside. + +She took the morsels and devoured them eagerly; the nerves of the stomach +were calling for nutrition, and even the coarse crumbs gave relief. + +The moments passed slowly, but presently, with the knowledge that day lay +beyond her prison, she gained a new, a more desperate courage. If she +must die, she would die in the open, where she at least might test her +pitiful strength against Jerry-Jo's did he pursue her. The determination +to act gave relief. The dark, damp room she could no longer bear; the +lamp had hours before ceased to burn; the smell of stale oil smoke was +sickening. No matter what happened she felt she must make a break for +freedom. She knew full well that should Jerry-Jo enter now she could not +combat him. + +Then, for the first time, she wondered why no one had come to seek her +through the long, black hours of the night. The men of Kenmore never +permitted a wanderer to remain unsought; there was danger. Why, even her +father could not be so--so hard as to sleep undisturbed while she was +unhoused! And her mother? Oh! surely her mother would have roused the +people! And Anton Farwell? Why, he would have started at once, as he +had for the McAdam boys. And with that conclusion came a new hope: + +"If they are searching it will be on the water!" + +Of course. Cheered by this thought, Priscilla made her way silently +toward the door. With trembling fingers she turned the key and pushed +gently outward. Through the crack the sun poured, and oh, the fresh +sweetness of the morning air! Again she pushed, once again, and then with +a rush she dashed through and was a hundred feet down the path when a +loud laugh stayed her like a shot from a gun. + +She turned and braced herself against a tree for support. Jerry-Jo, +pressed close to the house and not a foot from the door through which she +had come, again shrieked with laughter. Presently he conquered himself, +and, without moving, said: + +"You're free! The canoe's ready for you, too. Go home--if you want--go +home and get what's coming to you! I've been busy. There's a boat +stopping at the wharf to-night. I'm leaving for the States. I've told +them, as will pass it on, that you and me are going together. I'll stand +by it, too, God hears me!" + +"My--my father will kill you when he knows of this night!" + +Priscilla flung the words back savagely. She knew now that she was +free--free for what? Again Jerry-Jo's laugh taunted her, and as she +turned to the path her father faded from her hope. Only Anton Farwell +seemed to loom high. Just and resourceful, he would help her! + +The soggy, mossy path made heavy travelling for weary, nervous feet, but +at the foot of the hill Priscilla saw the little canoe bobbing at the +side of the dock. Once out upon the sunlit water the soul-horror +disappeared and the task before her appeared easy. Now that the real +danger was past, her physical demands seemed simple and well within her +control. If her father turned her away--and as she drew near to Lonely +Farm she felt that he probably would--she would go to Farwell, and from +him, with his assistance, go to the States. The time had come--that was +all--the time had come! She was as ready as she ever would be. She had +herself well in hand before she stepped from the canoe at the foot of her +father's garden. + +The only signs of anxiety in evidence about the house were Nathaniel's +presence in the kitchen at eleven in the morning, and Theodora's red and +swollen eyes as she bent over the dishwashing of a belated breakfast. + +"Mother! Father!" + +They turned and gazed at the pale, dishevelled girl in the doorway. +Neither spoke and Priscilla asked: + +"May I come in?" + +Had she wept, or flung herself upon their mercy, Nathaniel could have +understood, but her very calmness and indifference angered him, coming as +it did upon his real anxiety. He had not heard the village gossip that +Long Jean had already started. He had been out alone most of the night on +the water, and the relief of seeing his girl alive and unharmed turned +his earlier emotions to bitterness. + +"Yes, come in," he said sternly. "Where have you been?" + +Had Priscilla been given more time, had she been less physically spent, +she would have protected herself from her father's thought; as it was she +could only summon enough strength to parry his questions with truthful +answers, and until it was too late she did not realize how they damned +her. + +"Up at--at--Far Hill Place." + +"All night?" + +"Yes." + +"With----" + +"With--with Jerry-Jo McAlpin." + +"Oh!" This came like a snake's warning. + +"The--the storm was--oh! Father----" + +"The storm!" roared Nathaniel; "the storm! Are you sugar or salt? Have +you so little morality that you choose to stay overnight with a man in a +lonely house instead of coming wet but clean-charactered to your safe +home?" + +And then Priscilla understood! She had come into the room and was sitting +near the door she had closed behind her. She, on the sudden, seemed to +grow old and strong; the ancient distrust and dislike of her father +overcame her; she looked at her mother, bent and sobbing over the sink, +and only for _her_ sake did she continue the useless conversation. + +"You--you judge me unheard!" she went on, addressing Nathaniel with an +anger, glowing in her eyes, that equalled his own. + +"Have you not just incriminated yourself--you!" + +"Stop! Do you think that is all? Do you think I would have stayed +there--if--if----" Here the memory of what she had endured choked her. + +"A woman who puts herself in a man's power as you have can expect no +mercy." Nathaniel stormed. + +"Why?" + +"Because it is God's law. All decent women know it. That is what I've +feared for you always, but I'll still stand by you if you show reason. +I'll do it for your mother's sake and my good name. He shall marry you, +by God! Say the word and I'll bring him here." + +Priscilla's upper lip twitched. This was a trick her nerves had of +warning her, but she heeded not. + +"You--you would _force_ me to marry Jerry-Jo even against his will? +You would make that little hell for me without even knowing what has +happened? You'd fling me in it to--to save your name?" + +"You've made your own hell! No matter what has happened, there is only +one way out for you. If you refuse that----" And here Nathaniel flung his +big arms wide, as if pushing his child out--out! + +With white face but blazing eyes Priscilla got up and went over to her +mother. She drew the bowed and quivering form toward her and looked +straight into the tear-flooded eyes. + +"Mother, tell me, do you believe me--dishonoured?" + +The contact of the dear, strong young body gave Theodora power to say: + +"Oh! my dear, my dear, I cannot, I will not believe evil of you. But you +must do what your father thinks best; it is the only way. You have been +so heedless, my child, my poor child." + +"You--side with her?" thundered Nathaniel, feeling himself defied. "Then +heed me! If she refuses, out you go with her! No longer will I live with +my family divided against me. The world with her, or the home with me!" + +Then suddenly and quite clearly Priscilla saw the only way open to her, +the only way that led to even the poor peace she yearned to leave to the +sad, little, clinging, broken creature looking piteously up at her. + +"My child, my child, your father knows best." + +"There! there mother. Now listen!" + +Still holding Theodora, she looked over the gray head at her father's +cruel face. + +"I have only to tell you," she said slowly and with deadly hardness, "you +will not have to force Jerry-Jo McAlpin to marry me; he's eager enough to +do it. He leaves to-night for the States; he has arranged for me to go +with him." She paused, then went on, speaking now to her mother: + +"As God hears me, I am not dishonoured, little mother. I will never bring +dishonour upon you. I could have explained to you--you would have +understood, but father--never! I am going to the States. Good-bye." + +"My child! oh! my girl!" + +"Good-bye, dear mother." + +"Oh, Priscilla! Do not leave us so!" + +"This is the only way." + +"But, you--you are not yet wedded." + +Priscilla smiled. + +"You must leave that to Jerry-Jo and me. And now a kiss--and the dear +cheek against mine. So!" + +"But you will come back----" Theodora sank gently to the floor. She had +fainted quite away! + +Priscilla bent with her, she lifted the white head to her knee, and again +addressed her father. + +"You are satisfied?" she asked. The shield was down between them. Man and +woman, they stared, understandingly, in each other's eyes. + +"Leave her to me!" commanded Nathaniel, and strode toward the prostrate +form. + +"You've lied first and last. Neither McAlpin nor any other honest man +will have you! Go!" + +"I will go and--my hate I leave with you!" + +And when Theodora opened her eyes she was lying on the rough couch in the +sunny kitchen, and Nathaniel was bathing her face with cool water. + +"The child?" faltered the mother, looking pleadingly around. And then +Nathaniel showed mercy, the only mercy in his power. + +"She's gone to McAlpin. They leave for the States to-night. It's you and +I alone now to the end of the way." + +"Husband, husband! We've been hard on her; we've driven her to----" + +"Hush, you! foolish one. Would you defy God? Each one of us walks the +path our feet are set upon. 'Twas fore-ordained and her being ours makes +no difference. Every light woman was--some one's, God knows--and with Him +there be no respecter of persons." + +"Oh! but if you had only been kinder. It seems as if we haven't gone +beside her on her path. Couldn't we have drawn her from it--if we had +expected different of her? Oh! I shall miss her sore. The loneliness, the +loneliness with her out of the days and the long nights." + +Theodora was weeping again desolately. + +"Be grateful, woman, that worse has not come to us." + +Now that the deathlike faint was over, Nathaniel's softening was passing. + +"And she went from our door hungry, the poor dear! We wouldn't have +treated a beggar so." + +"Had she come as a suppliant, all would have been different." + +Then Theodora sat up, and a kind of frenzy drove her to speak. + +"She had something to tell! You did not let her say her say. _What_ kept +her away all night? Jerry-Jo McAlpin has the devil blood in him when he's +up to--to pranks. Suppose----" A sort of horror shook the thin, livid +face. Nathaniel, in spite of himself, had a bad moment; then his hard +common sense steadied him. + +"Would she go to him, if what you fear was true?" + +"Has she gone to him?" + +"Where else then--and all Kenmore not know? Wait till to-morrow before +you leap to the doing of that which you may regret. Calm yourself and +wait until to-morrow." + +And Theodora waited--many, many morrows. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +"And you see, Master Farwell, I cannot go back to my father's house." + +It was after nine of the evening of the day Priscilla Glenn had left +home. She had reached Farwell's shack without being seen. By keeping to +the woods and watching her opportunity, she had gained the rear of the +schoolhouse, entered while Farwell was absent, and breathed freely only +after securing the door. + +The master had returned an hour later and, the gossip of the Green +ringing in his ears, confronted the white, silent girl with no questions, +but merely a glad smile of relief. He had insisted upon her taking food, +drink, and rest before explaining anything, and Priscilla had gratefully +obeyed. + +"I'll gather all the news that is floating about," Farwell had comforted +her. "Sleep, Priscilla. You are quite safe." Then he went out again. + +So she had eaten ravenously and slept far into the early evening while +Anton Farwell went about listening to all who talked. It was a great day +for Kenmore! + +"She and him were together all the night," panted Long Jean, about noon, +in the kitchen of the White Fish. + +"What's that?" called Mary McAdam from the closet. Jean repeated her +choice morsel, and Mary Terhune, preparing the midday meal, thrilled. + +"I was at her borning," Jean remarked, "and I minded then and spoke it +open, that she was made of the odds and ends of them who went before her. +I've a notion that the good and evil that might have thinned out over all +the Glenn girls must work out thick in Priscilla." + +"I'm thinking," Mary Terhune broke in, "that the mingling with such as +visits at the Lodge has upset the young miss. Her airs and graces! Lord +of heaven! how she has flouted the rest of the young uns! Aye, but they +are mouthing about her this day! 'Me and her,' said Jerry-Jo to me this +early morning, 'me and her got caught up in the woods, and, understanding +one another, we chose the dry to the wet, and brought things to a point. +Her and me will make tracks for the States. It's all evened up.' And I do +say," Mary went on, "that all considering, Jerry-Jo is doing the handsome +thing. I ain't picking flaws in her--maybe she's as clean as the +cleanest, but there's them who wouldn't believe it, as you both very well +know." + +This last was to include Mrs. McAdam, who had issued from the closet with +an ugly look on her thin, dark face. + +"You old harpies!" she cried, striding to the middle of the big room and +getting into position for an oratorical outburst. "You two blighted old +midwives as ought, heaven knows, to have mercy on women; you who see the +tortures of women! You would take a girl's name from her on the word of +that half-breed, who would sooner lie than steal--and both are easy to +the whelp. That girl is the straightest girl that ever walked, and no +evil has come to her from my house. A word more like that, Mary Terhune, +and you'll never share my home again, and as for you, Jean, you who +helped the lass into life, what kind of a snake-heart have you?" + +Mary McAdam had both women trembling before her. + +"I'll go up to Lonely Farm myself," screamed she, "and if Glenn and his +poor little slave-wife are doing the low trick by their girl, as God +hears me, I'll take her for my own, and turn you both back to the trade +you dishonour!" + +Anton Farwell, passing near the window, heard this and went his way. + +Later old Jerry McAlpin came to him on the wharf where the men were +gathered to meet the incoming steamer. + +"Lordy! Master Farwell," quavered Jerry; "while I was out on the bay this +early morning, my lad, what all the town is humming about, goes to my +home and takes everything--everything of any vally and leaves this----" + +McAlpin passed a dirty piece of paper to Farwell. + + "I'm going to get out on the steamer. Going to the States, and had to + have the stuff to get away with. _I--ain't--alone!_ I'm going down the + Channel to board the steamer where it stops for gasoline. _Don't_ + follow me for God's sake. I'll pay you back and more." + +Farwell read the words twice, then said: + +"Well?" + +"Shall I--stop him, Master Farwell?" + +"Can you spare what he has taken?" + +"'Tain't that, sir." + +"Then let him go! Let him have his fling." + +"They do say--Long Jean, she do say--it's Glenn's girl. My lad's been +crazy for her. I'm afraid of Glenn." + +"Let things alone, McAlpin. This is your time to lie low and hold your +tongue." + +Farwell tore the paper in shreds and cast them to the wind. + +The steamer came in at eight. At nine-thirty it left the wharf, and, a +mile down the Channel, stopped at the little safety station to take on +oil and gasoline. Tom Bluff, a half-breed, had the place in charge, and +later that evening he put the finishing touch to the day's gossip. + +"'Twas Jerry-Jo, as you live, who jumped aboard, taking the last can I +was hauling up with him. So in a hurry was he that he nigh pushed some +one down who was in front of him. + +"'Where going?' calls I. 'To the States,' he says back, and picks up the +young person he nigh knocked down." + +Long Jean, to whom Tom was confiding this, drew near. + +"Who was the young person?" whispered she, with the fear of Mary McAdam +still upon her. + +"Her face? I did not see her face." + +"'Twas Glenn's girl," panted Long Jean; "Priscilla!" + +"Ugh!" grunted Tom as his ancestors had often grunted in the past. "Ugh!" + +That was all for the day, and behind closed doors and windows Kenmore +slept. The storm of the previous night had been followed by a cold wave, +and upon Farwell's hearth a fire crackled cheerily. + + * * * * * + +"And so, you see, I cannot go back to my father's house." + +Farwell bent his head over his folded arms. + +"But Mrs. McAdam will take you in, Priscilla. After things calm down and +the truth is accepted, your people will forgive and forget. You poor +child!" + +Priscilla closed her lips sharply. Her eyes were very luminous, very +tender, as they rested upon Farwell, but her heart knew no pity for her +father. + +"How old one grows, Master Farwell, in--a night," she said with a quiver +in her voice. "I went happily away with Jerry-Jo, quite, quite a girl, +only yesterday. I had the feeling of a child trying to make believe I was +a woman. I wanted to show my father he could no longer control me as he +always had before. I--I wanted to have my way, and then my way brought me +to--those black hours of horror when something in me died forever and +something new was born. And how strange, Master Farwell, that when I +could think at all clear--you stood out as my only friend. I seemed to +know how it would be with my father and my poor mother. My father has +always expected evil of me, and something in me seemed ever to work +against the good of me, to give him cause for believing me wrong. But +you saw the good, my friend, and to you I come--a woman, now. I do not +know the language of what I feel here"--she pressed her hands to her +heart--"but I feel sure you will understand. I cannot stay in Kenmore! +I do not want to. Always I have wanted to have a bigger place, a larger +opportunity, and even if Kenmore would take me, I will not have Kenmore! +Somehow I feel as if I had never belonged here, really. You do not belong +here. Oh, Master Farwell, can you not come, too?" + +As she spoke, the old, weary look passed for an instant from her eyes; +she was a child, daring, yet fearful! Ready to go forward into the dark, +but pleading for a trusted hand to hold. And Farwell, who, could she have +known, was clinging more to her than she to him, almost groaned the one +word: + +"No!" + +"Why, oh, why, Mr. Farwell? Like father and daughter we could make our +way. I think I have never known what a father might be, but you would +show me now in my great need." + +"Hush!" Farwell's eyes held hers commandingly, entreatingly. "You must +hear what I have to say. Why do you think I have stayed in Kenmore? Why +I _must_ stay? Have you thought?" + +"No." And for the first time in her life Priscilla wondered. Before, the +man had been but part of her life; now she wondered about him, with the +woman-mind that had come so suddenly and tragically to her. + +"No, Master Farwell, why?" + +"Because--well, because Kenmore is my grave--must always be my grave. I'm +dead. Good people, just people said I was dead. I am dead. Alive, I would +be a menace, a curse. Dead, I am safe. I've paid my debt, and you, you, +the people of my grave, since you do not know, have given me a chance, +and I've been a friend among friends! Why, I've even come to a +consciousness that--perhaps it is best for me to be dead, for back there, +back among the living, the thing I once was might assert itself again." + +The bitterness, the pitiful truthfulness, of Farwell's voice and words +sank deep into Priscilla's heart. Out of them she instantly accepted one +great, vital fact: he was in Kenmore as a refugee; he had been--had +done--wrong! With the acceptance of this, a strange thing happened. +Curiosity, even interest, departed. For no reason that she could have +classified, Priscilla Glenn fiercely desired to--keep Farwell! If she +knew what he seemed bent upon telling, he might take away her faith--her +only support. She would keep and hold to what she believed him, what he +had been since he came to the In-Place. It was childish, blind perhaps, +but her words were those of a determined woman. + +"Master Farwell, I will not listen to you. If you are dead, and are +safe, dead, I will not look into the grave. All my life you have been +good to me, been my only friend; you shall not take yourself from me! And +I--please let me do this one little thing for you--let me prove that I +can love and honour you without--explanation!" + +Farwell's face twitched. He struggled to speak, and finally said +unsteadily: + +"I have been--good, as you say, because I had to be. At any moment +I might have been what I once was. Why, girl, without knowing it, +Kenmore--all of you--had it in your power to fling me to the dogs had +you known, so you see----" + +But Priscilla shook her head. + +"You did not have to risk your life as you did for the McAdam boys. +Perhaps you do not know how you have--grown in your grave, Master +Farwell. Trust and liking come hard to us in Kenmore, yet not one of us +doubts you. No, no, lie quiet. I do not want to see you as you remember +yourself; you are better as you are. I will not hear; I will not have it +in my thought when I am far away." + +The hardness passed from Farwell's face. Something like relief replaced +it, and he said slowly: + +"My God! what a woman you will make if they do not harry you to death." + +"They will not!" The white, tired face seemed illumined from within. +"Last night made me so sure--of myself. It showed me how weak I was, +and how strong. Do you know"--and here a flush, not of ignorance, +but of strange understanding, struck across Priscilla's face like a +flame--"women like my mother, all the women here in Kenmore, do not +understand? They just let people take from them what no one has a right +to take, what only they should give! It's when this something is taken +that they become like my poor mother--afraid and crushed. If I live and +die alone and lonely, I shall keep what is my own until I--I give it +gladly and because I trust. I am not afraid! But if I had married +Jerry-Jo because of--of--what he and my father thought, then I would have +been lost, like my mother, don't you see? I--I can--live alone, but I +will not be lost." + +"But, great heavens! you are a woman!" + +"Is it so sad a thing to be a--woman? Why?" + +To this Farwell made no reply. Shading his gloomy eyes with his thin +hand, he turned from the courageous, uplifted face and sighed. Finally he +spoke as if the fight had all gone from him. + +"Stay here. The thing you want isn't worth the struggle. There is no use +arguing, but I urge you to stay. The In-Place is safer for you. What is +it that you must have?" + +Priscilla laughed--a wild, dreary little sound it was, but it dashed hope +from Farwell's mind. + +"I want my chance, a woman's chance, and I cannot have it here. I'm not +going to hide under Mrs. McAdam's wing, or even yours, Master Farwell. +I've left all the comfort with my poor mother that I can. Never let her +know the truth, now I am going--going to start on My Road! I do not care +where it leads, it is mine, and I am not afraid." + +In her ignorance and defiance she was splendid and stirred the dead +embers of Farwell's imagination to something like life. If she were +bent upon her course, if his hand could not rest upon the tiller of her +untested craft when she put out to sea, what could he do for her? To whom +turn? + +"Is there not one, Master Farwell, just one, out beyond the In-Place, +who, for your sake, would help me at first until I learned the way?" + +The question chimed in with Farwell's thought. + +He leaned across the table separating him from Priscilla Glenn and asked +suddenly: + +"Can you keep a secret?" + +Promptly, emphatically, the answer came. "Yes, I can." + +"Then listen! You must stay here, hide yourself, keep yourself as best +you may, while I go to--make arrangements. I will be no longer than I can +help, but it will take time. The house is well stocked; make yourself +comfortable. There are days when no one knows whether I am here or +elsewhere. Protect yourself until I return. And when"--Farwell paused and +moistened his lips--"when you are over the border, in the whirlpool, the +past, this life, must be forgotten. Raise up a high wall, Priscilla, that +no one can scale. Begin your new life from the hour you reach the States. +The one who will befriend you need know no more than I tell him; others +must take you on faith. At any moment your father, or some one like +Jerry-Jo, might hound you unless you live behind a shield. You +understand?" + +He did not plead for his own safety, and he was, at that moment, humanly +thinking of hers alone. + +"If you get the worst of it, come back; but leave the gate open only +for--yourself." + +"Yes, yes." And now Priscilla's eyes were shining like stars. "I will do +all that you say; I feel so brave and strong and sure. I want the test, +and I will leave the door to Kenmore ajar until the day when I can push +it wide and enter as I will, taking or bringing my dear friends with me. +I see"--she paused and her eyes grew misty--"I see My Road, stretching on +and on, and it ends--oh, Master Farwell, it ends in my Heart's Desire!" +She was childishly elated and excited. + +Farwell was fascinated. + +"Your Heart's Desire?" he muttered; "and what is that?" + +"Who knows until--she sees it? Hurry! hurry! Master Farwell, I long to +set forth." + +Forgotten was her recent experience of horror; fading already was Kenmore +from her sight. Danger by the way did not daunt her; the man bowed before +her was but a blurred speck upon her vanishing horizon; then suddenly a +sound caught her ear. + +"You--you--are"--she arose and stood beside Farwell, her hand upon his +bent shoulder--"you are crying; and for why?" + +"Loneliness, remorse, and fear for _you_, poor child." + +And then Priscilla came back to the grim room and the cowering form. + +"I will bring happiness to you," she whispered; "this I swear. In some +way you shall be happy." + +But Farwell shook his head. + +"To bed," he said suddenly; "to bed, girl, and to sleep. I'll take a nap +out here on the couch. Before you awake I'll be on my way. Keep the +shades drawn; it's my way of saying I do not wish to be disturbed. Good +night, and God bless you, Priscilla." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +About two in the morning Farwell set out upon his business for Priscilla. +He left a safe and roaring fire upon the hearth; the window shades he did +not raise, and well he knew that with that signal of desire for privacy +his house would be passed by without apparent notice. The smoke might +curl from the chimney, the dogs might, or might not, materialize, but +with those close-drawn shades the simple courtesy of Kenmore would +protect the master. + +Priscilla was sleeping when Farwell silently closed the door after him, +and, followed by his dogs, provided with food and blankets, he +noiselessly took to the shadowy woods. It was a starry, still hour, +lying between night and morning, and it partook of both. Dark it was, but +with that silvery luminosity which a couple of hours later would be +changed to pink glow. The stars shone, and the one great, pulsing planet +that hung over the sleeping village seemed more gloriously near than +Farwell had ever before noticed it. All nature was waiting for the magic +touch of day; soon action and colour and sound would stir; just then the +hush and breathlessness were a strange setting for the lonely man moving +forward into the deeper shadows followed close by his faithful dogs. This +man who, in the mad passion of his blighted youth, had taken life as if +it were but one of the many things over which he claimed supremacy, with +bowed head and slow steps, was going on an errand of mercy; he was going +to claim, for a helpless human creature, assistance from the only man in +all God's world upon whom he could call with hope of success. + +The program, the next few days, was as clear in Farwell's mind as if he +had already followed it from start to finish. By eight Pine would be on +his tracks; by noon they would be together, the dogs grumbling and +fighting at their heels. Two nights by the fire, smoking in a dull +silence, broken now and then, in sheer desperation, by Farwell himself. + +In Ledyard's plan there had evidently been but one stipulation: the +constant guardianship with explicit reports. Beyond that there seemed to +be no exactions. Farwell had tried to make Pine drink more than was good +for him on various occasions in order to test the metal of the restraint, +but the Indian displayed a wonderful self-control. He knew when and where +to begin and stop in any self-indulgence, but having fulfilled his part +he showed no interest or curiosity in his companion. Once the trading +station was reached, Farwell might buy or seek pleasure as he chose; he +might write or receive letters; might sleep or wake. So long as the +tangible Farwell was where the guide could locate him at a moment's +notice, he was free to think and act to his own satisfaction. + +As he plodded on Farwell contemplated, as he never had before, his +relations with the Indian; in fact, the Indian himself. A superficial +friendliness had sprung up between the two. How deep was it? how much to +be depended upon? If Ledyard could buy the fellow, might not a higher +price secure his allegiance? This, strange to say, was a new thought to +Farwell. Perhaps he had accepted the situation too doggedly; it was his +way to cease struggling when the tide turned against him. It was +weakness, it was folly, and, after Priscilla went, after the girl opened +the doors again into that old life, how could he endure the loneliness, +the tugging of her hold upon him from the place he once had called his? + +The day came late to the deep woods beyond Kenmore, and Farwell seemed +going toward the night instead of facing the morning. At five he paused +to feed his dogs and take a bite himself, and, as he sat upon a fallen +tree, the mystic stirrings of life thrilled him as they often had before. +It was more a sense of rustle and awakening than actual sound. Hidden +under the silence of the forest lay the quivering promises, as the rosy +light lay just on the border of the woodland. Both were pressing warm and +comfortingly close to the lonely man with his patient dogs at his feet. +Farwell was a better man, a finer man, than he knew, but only +subconsciously did this support him. + +It was three of the afternoon before he heard the quick, measured steps +on the trail behind him. He did not turn his head, but he called back a +genial "Hello!" which was answered by a grunt not devoid of friendliness. + +The evening meal was eaten together, and the two arranged their blankets +near the fire for the night's rest. Farwell's two dogs and Pine's one +faithful henchman lay down in peace a short distance away. It was as it +had been for a time back, except that the Indian had become, suddenly, +either an obstacle to be overcome or a friend to assist. Not realizing +his new importance, the guide grunted a good night and fell into that +sleep of his that never seemed to capture his senses entirely. + +At the small town, which was reached late the following day, Farwell +engaged two rooms at the ramshackle tavern and informed Pine that he was +to share the luxuries. + +This was unusual. In the past a day at the station sufficed for business +transactions, and night found them in the woods again. Pine was confused +but alert. However, things progressed comfortably enough. The expected +mail was awaiting Farwell, and he greedily bought all the newspapers he +could get. His purchases at the store did not interest the Indian and he +was not even aware that several garments for a woman were included in +Farwell's list. A telegram sent, and another received, did perturb the +fellow a good deal, but when Farwell tore the one he got into shreds, the +simple mind of the guide concluded that the matter was unimportant, and +he forgot it before they reached Kenmore. He could not burden his poor +intellect with unnecessary rubbish, and the whole business was getting on +to what stood for nerves in the Indian's anatomy. + +What really had occurred was this: Farwell had reached across the +desolate stretches that divided him from his one friend and got a +response. He had impressed upon John Boswell that he could not come in +person to Kenmore, but he could meet a certain needy young person and +convey her to safety in the States. And he had asked a question that for +months had never risen to the surface--he had been too crushed to give it +place. + +"Is Joan Moss still alive?" + +Boswell was ready to aid him in any way, would even deny himself the +longing of seeing his old friend face to face, since that seemed +desirable. He would meet the young woman at a place called Little Corners +and would do what he could for her. + +"Joan Moss is still alive." + +A strong light and a new hope came into Farwell's sad eyes. He had a hold +on the future! With the possibility of supplanting Ledyard in Pine's +ideas of loyalty and economics what might not happen? + +And so they started back. + +It was midnight, four days after Farwell had left home, that he entered +his own door again. The return trip had been rushed, much to Pine's +approbation. Priscilla was quietly sewing at the table when Farwell, +having loudly bidden the Indian good night, came into the living-room. + +The girl's alarmed glance turned to one of relieved welcome when she saw +Farwell. She had some food ready for him--every night she had been +prepared--and he ate it ravenously. She noted how white and weary he +looked, but the triumphant expression in his sad eyes did not escape her, +either. + +"You have good news?" she asked as soon as Farwell had rested a bit by +his fireside. + +"Yes. And you?" + +"Oh! I have done famously. Only two knocks at the door, and I was well +hidden. Once it was Mrs. McAdam and once old Jerry. They did not try to +enter." + +"They would not. And there was food and fuel enough?" + +"Food--yes; I went out three times for wood, and I took one wild, mad +walk. I ran, while all the world slept, to Lonely Farm. I looked in at my +father's window; he was dozing by the fire, and--my mother----" + +"Well, Priscilla?" + +"My mother--was crying! I shall always remember her--crying. I did not +know there were so many tears in the world!" + +"You--you still insist upon going away?" + +"Yes. There is no other way for me. Already I seem a stranger, a +passerby. Not even for my mother can I stay; it could work no good for +her or me. Perhaps, by and by----" Priscilla paused. Now that she was +about to turn her back on all that was familiar to her, she became +serious and intense, but she knew no shadow of wavering. + +Then Farwell told her the arrangements he had made. + +"I have a hundred dollars for you, Priscilla. I wish it were more. My +friend Boswell will meet you at Little Corners. This is Friday; he will +be there on Sunday and will wait for you at the inn; there is only one. +Ask for it and go straight to it. From here to Little Corners is the +hardest part. I will go as far as I dare with you; the rest you must make +alone. Halfway, there is a deserted shanty near the old factory; there +you can make yourself comfortable for the night. Are you afraid?" + +Priscilla was white and intent, but she answered: + +"No, I shall not be afraid." + +"You ought to cover the distance in a couple of days and a night; the +walking is not hard, and the woods are fairly well cleared. Once you +reach Boswell you are safe. He will not question you, but you can trust +him. He's a strange man--younger than I; he stands, has always stood, for +all that is noble and good in my life. I have told him that you are some +one in whom I am interested." + +The feeling of adventure closed in and clutched the girl. Now that the +hour had actually come, the hour up to which all her preparations tended, +she quivered with excitement tinged with sadness. + +"This way of leaving Kenmore is safer," Farwell was saying. "If any one +were to see you and know you, your father would find you out and bring +you back. No one will know you at Little Corners. That's a place which +most honest people let alone. You'll like Boswell--every one does--after +the first. He'll put you in the way of helping yourself, and your people +may still hold their belief about you and Jerry-Jo, since it makes things +easier for them." + +"Yes; they must believe that until----" But Priscilla did not finish the +sentence. + +The two sat silent for a few minutes while the tired dogs upon the hearth +breathed loud and evenly. Then at last Priscilla asked: + +"When do we start, Master Farwell?" + +"Start? Oh, to be sure. I had forgotten." Farwell roused himself from his +lethargy. "We start at once; in an hour or two at the latest. I will nap +here on the couch; you must rest as best you can. There's a long coat and +a hat in yonder bundle. They must serve you until you meet Boswell. He'll +rig you out in some town before you reach civilization. Here's the money; +take wallet and all. Hide it somewhere, Priscilla." Farwell was on his +feet and active once more. + +"Go in an hour or two?" gasped Priscilla absentmindedly, following +Farwell's words and accepting the money with a long, tender look of +gratitude. "In an hour or two? Why, you've only just come in, Master +Farwell!" + +"What matters? After to-morrow I shall have time to rest and sleep to my +fill." + +"You will--miss me, Master Farwell?" Priscilla's eyes were dim. "I would +like to have some one--miss me!" + +"I shall, indeed, miss you! You can never understand what you have meant +to me, Priscilla. I cannot make you understand; I shall not try; but in +helping you I have perhaps helped myself. I cannot walk out of the +In-Place beside you, as I would like to do--not now. Maybe a long time +hence, some day, I may follow!" + +Farwell's excitement showed in his eyes and voice and wiped out the +weariness of his face. + +"You mean that, Master Farwell? You are not trying to comfort me?" + +"No; I am comforting myself!" + +Then, forgetful of the need for sleep, he went on rapidly: + +"Out where you are going, Priscilla, there is a--a woman I love; she once +loved me. This must seem queer to you who have only known me as--as I now +seem. I will seem different to you when you have wakened up--seen other +kinds of men and women." + +"Is she young--pretty?" + +The senseless words escaped Priscilla's lips because quivering interest +and a strange embarrassment held her thought. + +"I--I do not know--how she is now. She _was_ pretty. Good God! how pretty +she was, and young, and kind, too. It was the kindness that mattered +most. You see, she thinks me dead; it was best so. I--I had to be dead +for a while and then I meant to go to her myself. But--something +happened. I was obliged to stay on here, and she might not have +understood. I'd like----" Farwell paused and looked pleadingly at the +white girl-face across the rude table, where the fragments of food still +lay: "I'd like you to go and see her. Boswell could take you. He's done +everything for her, God bless him! I'd--I'd like to have you tell her +gently, kindly, that I am alive. You might say it so as to spare her +shock; you might, better than any one else!" + +The longing in the man's eyes was almost more than Priscilla could +endure. Crude as she was, wrong and sinful as the man near her may at one +time have been, she knew intuitively that the love for that woman in the +States had been his consuming and uplifting passion. If he had sinned for +her, he had also died for her, and now he pleaded for resurrection in her +life. + +"I will do anything in all the world for you, Master Farwell; anything!" + +And Priscilla stretched her hands out impulsively. Farwell took them in +his cold, thin ones and clung to her grimly. + +"I'd like to know she'd welcome me!" he whispered. "Unless she could, I'd +rather stay--dead!" + +Another silence fell between the man and girl while he relived the past +and she sought to enter the future. + +The clock struck the half-hour of one and Farwell sprang up. + +"Get ready!" he said. "No time for napping now. It is--it is Saturday +morning! We must be off! I'll go with you as far as I can. For the +rest----" He stopped suddenly and looked blankly at Priscilla. + +A little after two they started away from the small, darkened house. It +was a cloudy morning; day would be long in coming, and the two made the +most of the darkness. They were well in the deep woods by six o'clock; at +seven they ate some food Farwell had hurriedly prepared, and were on +their way again by eight. They did not talk much. Priscilla found that +she needed all her strength, now that she must soon depend upon herself, +and Farwell had nothing more to say but--good-bye! + +Anton Farwell had got ahead of his spy for once! Not even so +indefatigable an Indian as Pine could be expected to watch a man who had +just returned from a long tramp. But Farwell knew full well that by high +noon his guard would have sensed danger and be uncommonly active, so he +pushed the march to Priscilla's utmost limit. + +At four o'clock they reached the deserted hut near the old factory. A +fire was made upon the hearth and a broken-down settle drawn close. + +"I'd rest until early morning," advised Farwell in a hard, constrained +voice. "Good Lord, Priscilla, it's a cruel place to leave you--alone!" + +"I shall not mind, Master Farwell." All that was brave and unselfish in +the girl rose now to the fore. She recognized that Farwell, even more +than she, needed comfort. + +"I shall never forget you," she said, holding her hands out to him; +"never forget you or cease to--love you!" + +The last words made him wince. + +"Good-bye, Priscilla." + +"Good-bye, Master Farwell." + +When the door closed upon the man, for a moment Priscilla stood with +horrified glance following him. The sense of high adventure perished at +his going. Alone in the woods, in the ghostly hut, the night to face, and +the blank future stretching beyond! It was more than she could bear, and +a cry escaped her parted lips. But Farwell did not hear, and the paroxysm +passed. + +Priscilla slept that night, slept well and safely, and the early light of +Sunday morning found her refreshed and full of courage. She never knew +that two hours after leaving her Farwell met Pine and found in him--a +friend! + +They had come face to face on a side trail. + +"Here I am!" said Farwell cheerfully; then he took his place in front of +the guide. That had always been the unspoken understanding. + +"See here, Pine, we've never said much to each other about what--all this +means, but I want to say something now. I won't give you much trouble in +the future. I shall not go often for my mail, or necessaries. In return, +forget _this_ journey. I went to let a--a poor little devil of a creature +out of a trap. That is all. I just couldn't--leave it to suffer--and I +hadn't time to call you up after our long tramp of yesterday." + +"Ugh!" came from behind. + +"Pine, can you trust me?" + +"Ugh!" But the grunt was affirmative. + +"Smoke on it, Tough?" + +And they smoked while they plodded wearily back into bondage. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Little corners, lying on the borderland of Canada and the States, +stretched like a hand, the thumb and small finger of which belonged to +the Dominion, the three digits, in between, to the sister country. Of +course it was comparatively easy to bring merchandise, and what not, +by way of the thumb and little finger and send the same forth by the +three exits, known to Timothy Goodale as "furrin parts." Timothy was +excessively British, as so many Canadians are, but he was a broad-minded +man in his sympathies, and a friend to all--when it paid. He was a man of +keen perceptions, of conveniently short memory, and had the capacity for +giving a lie all the virtuous appearance of truth and frankness. Goodale +had no family, and, as far as possible, served his guests himself. A +half-breed cooked for him; a half-witted French-Canadian girl did +unimportant tasks about the bedchambers, but the host himself took his +patrons into his own safekeeping and their secrets along with them. + +Little Corners was not a town of savoury reputation. Law-abiding folks +gave it a wide berth; tourists found nothing interesting there, and +newcomers, of a permanent type, were discouraged. For these reasons it +was the place of all places for Mr. John Boswell to enter, by way of the +long, middle finger, and meet Priscilla Glenn, who advanced via the +thumb. No one would know them; no one would remember them an hour after +they departed. + +Timothy was bustling about on a certain Sunday morning, ruminating on the +thanklessness of the task of getting ready for people who might never +appear, when, to his delight, he saw a team of weary horses advancing. He +had time only to put his features in order for business when a man +entered the room. + +No one but Goodale could have taken the shock of the traveller's +personality in just the way he did. The smile froze on his face, his eyes +beamed, and his stiff, red hair seemed bristling with welcome. "Advance +agent of a circus," he thought; "sort of advertising guy." + +The man who had entered was about three feet tall, horribly twisted as to +legs, and humped as to back and chest. The long, thin arms reached below +the bent knees, and large, white hands dangled from them as if attached +by wires. The big head, set low on the shoulders, seemed to have no +connecting link of neck. It was a great, shaggy head with deep-set, +wonderful eyes, sensitive mouth and chin, and a handsome nose. + +"Ah, sir, delighted," said Goodale. "Shall I tell your driver to go to +the stables?" + +"I'm my own driver, but I'd like your man to see to the horses. I'm John +Boswell from New York, though you'll probably forget that an hour after I +leave." + +Goodale nodded. This was quite in his line, and he suddenly became aware +of the exquisite texture and quality of the stranger's clothing; the +fineness of the piping voice. All sorts came to the inn, but this last +comer was a gentleman, for all his defects. + +"I'm expecting a young woman, a distant relative, from farther back in +Canada. I shall await her here. My stay is uncertain. Make me as +comfortable as you can; I like to be comfortable." + +"You--you are alone, sir?" + +"Until the young lady comes, yes. She is to return to the States with me. +It depends upon her how soon we travel back." + +This did away with the show business, but it added romance to the +adventure. + +Goodale made Boswell extremely comfortable, surprisingly so. Two bedrooms +were got in order as if by magic; a little sitting-room emerged from +behind closed doors; an apartment quite detached and cozy, with a +generous fireplace and accommodations for private meals. + +After a good dinner Boswell went for a stroll, telling his host to make +the young lady welcome upon her arrival. + +At half-past four Priscilla Glenn walked into the office of the inn. She +was tired and worn, rather unkempt as to appearance, but she stepped +erect and with some dignity. + +"Is--is Mr. Boswell here?" she asked. + +"He is, and then again he ain't," smiled Timothy, who was always playful +with women when he wasn't brutal. None knew better than he the use and +abuse of chivalry. + +"You are to make yourself at home, Miss; then I'll serve tea in the +sitting parlour; all quite your own and no fear of intrusion. I'm host +and servant to my guests. I never trust them to--to menials." + +"Where's my room?" Priscilla broke in abruptly. She was near the +breaking-point and she longed for privacy and shelter before she +collapsed. Her tone and manner antagonized Goodale. He understood and +recognized only two classes of women, and this girl's attitude did not +fit either class. In silence he showed her to her bedchamber, and once +the door separated him from her his smile departed and he relieved his +feelings by muttering a name not complimentary to Mr. Boswell's relative. + +The sense of safety, warmth, and creature comforts speedily brought about +courage and hope to Priscilla; a childish curiosity consumed her; she was +disappointed that Boswell did not present himself, but his absence gave +her time for rallying her forces. She found her way to the little +sitting-room by six o'clock, and, to her delight, saw that tea things +were on a table by the hearth and a kettle was boiling over the fire. + +"And so--this is Miss Priscilla Glenn?" + +So noiselessly had the man entered the room through the open door, so +kind and gentle his voice, that, though the girl started, she felt no +fear until her eyes fell upon the speaker. Boswell waited. He knew what +must follow. Readjustment always took time. In this case the time might +be longer because of the crudity of the girl. + +"Ah!" The shuddering word escaped the trembling lips and the tightly +clasped hands that had instinctively gone to the face. "Ah!" + +The man by the door sent forth a pitiful appeal for mercy and acceptance +in so sweet and rare a smile that for very shame Priscilla stood up and +smiled back wanly and apologetically. + +Boswell liked the attempt and ready willingness; they showed character. + +"Now that that is over," he said in his strange, fine voice, "we may sit +down and be friends. May we not?" + +"I will make fresh tea for you--please let me!" for Boswell was waving +aside the suggestion. + +"Very well! Weak--just flavoured water. Now, then!" + +The sidling form edged to the deep chair beside the hearth and scrambled +up, using both hands as a child does. Priscilla kept her eyes upon her +task and struggled for composure. + +"I--I suppose Max--I mean Farwell--did not describe me?" + +"No, sir." + +"It was mistaken kindness. My friends have a habit of doing that. They +think to spare me; it only makes it harder. Try to forget, as soon as +you can, my ugly shell; I am commonplace beneath." + +The pathos of this almost brought tears to Priscilla Glenn's eyes. Her +warm, sympathetic nature responded generously. + +"I--I am very sorry I gave you pain, sir. Forgive me!" + +"We will not mention it again. If you can think of me as--a man, a friend +who wishes to help you for another friend's sake, you will honour me and +make easier your own position. You see, you are no stranger to me; I have +the advantage of you. Farwell has kept me in touch with you from your +childhood up. You have amused him, helped him to bear many things that +would have been harder for him without you. I thank you for this. I +am Farwell's friend. Why, do you know"--and now the deep eyes glowed +kindly--"he has even told me of that original religion you evolved from +your needs; he pictured the strange god you worshipped. I've laughed over +that many times." + +"Your tea is getting cold, sir." + +Priscilla was gaining control of her emotions, and John Boswell's evident +determination to place her in a comfortable position won her gratitude +and admiration. + +"I like cold tea; the colder and weaker the better. Thank you. Let the +cup stand on the table; I will help myself presently. I sincerely hope +we, you and I, are going to be friends. It would hurt Farwell so if we +were not." + +"How good you are!" + +"Yes. Goodness is--my profession." The drollery in the voice was more +touching than amusing. "I call myself the Property Man. I help people +artistically, when I can. It is my one pleasure, and I find it most +exciting. You will learn, now that you have taken your place on the stage +of life, that the Property Man is very important." + +In this light talk, half serious, half playful, he reassured Priscilla +and claimed for himself what his deformity often retarded. + +"Already you seem my friend. Mr. Farwell said you would be." + +Priscilla's eyes did not shrink now. The soul of the man had, in some +subtle fashion, transformed him. She began to succumb to that power of +Boswell's that had held many men and women even against their wills. + +"Farwell was always a dramatic fellow," the weak voice continued. "When +he sent me word, I wanted to go direct to Kenmore; I wanted to see him +after all these years. But he had made his own plans in his own way. +There were--reasons." + +Priscilla looked bravely in the thin, kindly face. She remembered that +Farwell had said that she need tell nothing more than she cared to, but +an overpowering desire was growing upon her to confide everything to this +friend of an hour. His deep, true eyes, fixed upon her, were challenging +every doubt, every reserve. + +"Farwell says you dance like a sprite." + +At this Priscilla started as if from sleep. + +"Ah! a childish bit of play," she said. "I--I have almost forgotten how +to dance." + +"I hope you will never forget. To dance and sing and laugh should be the +heritage of all young things. You must forget to be serious, past the +safety point! That's where danger lies. It does not pay to take our parts +ponderously. I learned that long ago." + +"I shall be--happy after a while." And now, quite simply and frankly, +Priscilla cast away her anchors of caution and timidity and spoke openly: + +"I--I have been so troubled. Things have happened to me that should not +have happened if--if my mother and father could have trusted in me. They +believed--wrong of me when really they should have pitied me. You trust +me?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Master Farwell trusted me. As things were, the only comfort I could give +my poor parents was to let them think I left Kenmore with--with a young +man. Something had occurred that--looked wrong. It was only a terrible +experience. No one helped me but Master Farwell. My--my people turned +from me." + +"It was Farwell's way: to help where he had faith," murmured Boswell. + +The deep eyes were so perilously kind that Priscilla had to struggle to +keep back her tears. A sense of security and peace flooded her heart, but +the past strain had left its mark. + +"My father would have been glad to have me marry the--the man. I would +rather have died after what happened! They--my father and mother--must +believe I have gone with him. It will at least make them feel I have not +disgraced them. Now--you can understand!" + +"Perfectly." + +"I want to go into training. I want to be a nurse. I am sure I can +succeed." + +So very humble and modest was the ambition that it quite took Boswell by +surprise. Priscilla did not notice the uplifting of the shaggy brows. She +went on eagerly, thoughtfully: + +"You see, I have only such education as Master Farwell has given me, but +I have a ready mind, he says. I am sure I could watch and tend the sick. +A lady staying in Kenmore at one time told me I had the--the touch of a +skilled hand. I want--to help the world, somehow, and this seems the only +way open to a girl like me. I am strong; I never tire. Yes; I want to be +a nurse, the best one I can be." + +Boswell understood the deeper truth. This girl, original, artistic, was +foregoing much in accepting this safe, humble course. She expected no +charity, nothing but a helpful interest. It was unusual and delightful. + +"I have a hundred dollars that Master Farwell gave me. It will help, and +I can repay it by and by. I know it will be years before I can do so, but +he understands. While I am studying there will be little expense, the +lady told me. And oh!"--here Priscilla interrupted herself suddenly--"I +have an errand to do for Master Farwell as soon as I get to New York. He +told me you--would help me." + +"An errand?" + +"Yes. There is a--woman he once--loved; loves still. She thinks he--is +dead. It was best so in the past. There was a reason for letting her +believe so; but now he wants her--to know!" + +Boswell sprang up in his chair as if he were on a strong spring. + +"Wants you to go and tell her--that he still lives?" + +"Yes. It will be hard, but I will do it for him." + +Boswell settled back in his seat. + +"I thought he only meant her to know--when he could go himself," he said +quietly. + +"He made me promise." + +Boswell leaned forward and drew the cup from the table, and in one long +draught drank the cold, weak tea. When he spoke again the conversation +was set in a different channel. + +"I hardly know what I expected to find you, Miss Glenn," he said with his +rare, sweet smile. "You evidently seemed more a child to Farwell than you +do to me. That was natural. Now that we have become acquainted I hope you +will accept my help and hospitality until your own plans are formed. I +can make you very comfortable in my town home. I am sure I can place you +in the best training school in the city; I have some influence there. But +before you settle to your hard work you will let me play host, as Farwell +would in my place? This would be a great pleasure to me." + +What there was in the words and tone Priscilla could never tell, but +at once the future seemed secure, and the present placed on a sound +foundation. Every disturbing element was eliminated and the whole +situation put upon a perfectly commonplace basis. By a quick transition +the unreality was swept aside. + +"Indeed, I will be glad to accept." + +They smiled quite frankly and happily at each other. + +"An odd story occurs to me." Boswell pressed back in his chair and his +face was in shadow. "You must get used to my stories and plays. The +Property Man must have his sport. There was once a garden, very +beautiful, very desirable, but full of traps to the unwary. Quite +unexpectedly, one day, a particularly fine butterfly found herself poised +on the branch of a tree with a soaring ambition in her heart, but a blind +sense of danger, also. It was a wise butterfly, by way of change. While +it hesitated, a beetle crawled along and offered its services as guide. +The pretty, bright thing was sane enough to accept. Do you follow?" + +Priscilla started. She had been caught in the mesh of the story, and now +with a sudden realization of its underlying thought she flushed and +laughed. + +"I still have my childish delight in stories, you see," she said. Then, +"I--I do see what you mean. Again I repeat, I am so glad to accept +your--your kindness." + +"Middle life has its disadvantages." The voice from out the shadows +sounded weary. "It has none of the blindness of youth and none of the +assurance of old age. If I were twenty, you and I could play together in +the Garden; if I were ninety I could tuck you safely away in my nest and +feed you on dainties, and no one could say a word. As it is--well, we'll +do the best we can, and, after you are in your training, you'll be glad +enough to have my nest to fly to for a change of air and an opportunity +to chat with me. The Property Man will come in handy. Hark! the wind is +rising. How it blows!" + +The ashes were flying about on the hearth and the trees outside beat +their branches against the windows. + +"It never roars like that in the In-Place," whispered Priscilla, awed by +the sound and fury that were rapidly gaining power. + +"The In-Place?" Boswell sighed. "What a blessed name! To think of any one +fluttering about in the dangerous Garden when he or she might remain in +the In-Place!" + +There was a tap on the door, and in reply to Boswell's "Come!" Goodale +entered. + +"Shall I serve supper now, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"In here?" + +"No; in the dining-room." Then, "How far is it to the railway station?" + +"Twenty-six miles, sir." + +"It seemed like a hundred. Can the team make it to-morrow if the storm +ceases?" + +"They look capable, sir." + +"Then we will start to-morrow for the States." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Priscilla Glenn always looked back on the next four weeks of her life as +a transition stage between one incarnation and another. Kenmore, and that +which had gone to the making of her life previous to her meeting with +John Boswell, seemed to have accomplished their purpose and left her +detached and finished, up to a certain point, for the next period of her +existence. In the severing of all the ties of the past, even affection, +gratitude, and memory, for the time being, were held in abeyance. This +was a merciful state, for, had ordinary emotions and sentiments held her, +she would have been unfitted for the difficult task of readjustment which +she gradually achieved, simply because of her dulled mental and spiritual +sensations. + +The noise and flash of the big city bewildered and dazzled the girl from +the In-Place and encrusted her with an unreality that spared her many a +pang of loss, and also fear for the future. Boswell's apartment, high +above the street and overlooking the Hudson River and Palisades, became a +veritable sanctuary from which she dreaded to emerge and to which she +clung in a passion of self-preservation. The gray wall of stone across +the sparkling stream grew to be, in her vivid fancy, the barrier between +the past and future. Against it, unseen, faint, but persistent, beat what +once had been--her grim father, her weak, tearful mother, lonely, kindly +Master Farwell, and all the lesser folk of Kenmore. Pressing close and +straining to hold her, these dim, shadowy memories clustered, but she no +longer appeared a part of them, like them, or in any way connected with +them. On the other hand, below the eyrie dwelling in which she was +temporarily sheltered, lay the whirlpool of sound and motion into which, +sooner or later, she must plunge. + +With keen appreciation and understanding of this phase of her +development, John Boswell kept conversation and life upon the surface, +and rarely permitted a letting-down of thought. Cautiously, and not too +often, he took his guest on tours of inspection and watched her while she +underwent new ordeals or experienced pain from unknown thrills. He had +never been more interested or amused in his life, and, in his enthusiasm, +exaggerated Priscilla's capabilities. He revelled in her frankness and +her confidence; he learned from her more of Farwell than he could have +learned in any other way, and his faithful heart throbbed in pity, pride, +and affection for the lonely master of the In-Place, who, little heeding +his own progress, had triumphed over his old and lesser self at last. + +The home of Boswell was a large and sunny apartment high up in the huge +building. Only one servant, a marvellously silent and efficient Japanese, +ran the economic machinery, awesomely defended Boswell's library when the +master retired to perform his mystic rites, and in all relations was +exemplary. Poor Boswell's rites comprised a devouring appetite for +reading and a rather happy talent for turning off a short story as unique +and human as he was himself. + +After Priscilla Glenn arrived, Toky, as the servant was called, was +tested to the uttermost. Never before had Boswell introduced a woman into +the sphere sacred to Man. Toky disapproved, was utterly disgusted; he +lost his implicit faith in his master's wisdom, but he adopted a manner +at once so magnanimous and charming that Boswell set to work and planned +future gifts of appreciation for his servant. + +No other woman came to the apartment; Boswell shrank from them, not +bitterly or resentfully, but sensitively. Men took him more or less for +granted when he touched their lives; women overdid the determination, on +their parts, to set him at ease. Long since he had turned his poor, +misshapen back upon the very natural and legitimate desire for the happy +mingling of both sexes, but after Priscilla Glenn became his guest he +recognized the need of women friends in a sharp and painful manner. They +could have helped him so much; could have solved so many problems for him +and the girl; but as it was he had to do the best he could alone. + +The hundred dollars, still to be repaid to Farwell, worked wonders in the +week following the arrival of the Beetle and the Butterfly, as Boswell +insisted upon calling himself and Priscilla. Having no power at court, +Boswell cast himself on the mercy of lesser folks and managed, by way of +secret nods and whispers, to gain the coöperation of sympathetic-looking +shop girls in order to array Priscilla in garments that would secure her +and him from impudent stares and offensive leers. The evenings following +these shopping expeditions were devoted to "casting up accounts." +Priscilla was absolutely lacking in worldly wisdom, but she had a sense +of accuracy that drove Boswell to the outer edge of veracity. Never +having bought an article of clothing for herself, Priscilla attacked this +new problem with perfectly blank faith. Prices often surprised and +startled her by their smallness, but the results obtained were gloriously +gratifying. + +"I can better understand the lure of the States now, Mr. Boswell," she +said one evening as the two sat in the library with the wind howling +down Boswell's exaggerations and the fire illuminating the girl's +face. "Kenmore prices were impossible, but one can go wild here for so +little. Just fancy! That whole beautiful suit for two dollars and +eighty-seven----" + +"Eighty-nine!" Boswell severely broke in, shaking his pencil at her as he +sat perched, like a benign gargoyle, by his study table. "I'll not have +Farwell defrauded while he cannot protect his own interests." + +"Two eighty-nine," Priscilla agreed, with a laugh so merry and carefree +that the listener dropped his tired eyes. "And how much does that leave +of the hundred, Mr. Boswell? I tremble when I think of the silk gown so +soft and pretty, the slippers and stockings to match, and the storm coat, +umbrella, heavy shoes, and--and--other things." + +Boswell referred to his notes and long lines of figures. + +"All told, and in round numbers, there are forty-seven dollars and three +cents left." + +"It's marvellous! wonderful!" Priscilla exclaimed. "You are sure, Mr. +Boswell?" + +"Do you doubt me?" + +"Sometimes I do, you are so kind, so generous, and under ordinary +circumstances it would seem impossible to buy things so cheap. You must +select your shops carefully." + +"One has to on a moderate allowance." + +Then quite suddenly Priscilla Glenn spoke quickly and breathlessly: + +"Mr. Boswell, I--I must begin my training. Have you made any +arrangements? And, when I go, will they pay me from the start?" + +Boswell grew grave as he thought of the knowledge that would come +concerning dollars and cents later on. + +"I have started operations," he replied; "in a short time you will be +able to begin your studies, and I hear they will pay you the princely sum +of ten dollars a month from the day you are accepted. Canadians are +greatly in demand." + +"Ten dollars!" gasped Priscilla, "Ten dollars a month! when I think what +this hundred has done, and the twelve months in each year, it--it dazzles +me!" + +Boswell gave an uncomfortable laugh. In the light of nearby +disillusionment his practical joke looked mean and ghastly. + +Then, with another abrupt change of thought, Priscilla brought Boswell +again at bay. + +"Before I go into training," she said, "I must go and see Master +Farwell's friend--his old friend, you know. I feel very guilty and +ungrateful, but it has all been so strange and bewildering, I have seemed +dead and done for and then born again, I could not help myself; but I can +now. Please tell me all about her, Mr. Boswell, and how I can find her." + +Boswell dropped the pencil upon the mahogany desk and looked blankly at +Priscilla. + +"Let us sit by the fire," he said presently, "I am cold and--tired. Turn +down the lights." + +They took their positions near the hearth: the dwarf in his low, deep +leather chair with its wide "wings" that hid him so mercifully; Priscilla +in the small rocker that from the first had seemed to meet every curve +and line of her long, young body with restful welcome. + +"And now," Priscilla urged, "please tell me. I feel, to-night, like +myself once more. I am adjusted to the new life, I hope, ready to do my +part." + +When John Boswell cast aside his whimsical phase he was a very simple and +direct man. He, too, was becoming adjusted to Priscilla's presence in his +home and her rightful demands upon him. + +"Yes, I will tell you," he said slowly, wearily. + +"Perhaps you are too tired to-night, Mr. Boswell? To-morrow will do." + +"No. I never sleep when the wind howls; it gets into my imagination. I'd +rather talk. The thing I have to tell you--is what I shall tell Farwell +if I ever see him again. It's rather a bungling thing I've done. I'll +receive my reward, doubtlessly, but I would do the same, were I placed in +the same position, over and over again. + +"Farwell Maxwell, known to you as Anton Farwell, has been part, the +biggest part, of my life since we were young boys. We were about as +pitiful a contrast as can be imagined, and for that reason met each +other's needs more completely. We had only one thing in common--money. He +was a straight, handsome fellow, while I was--what you see before you--a +crooked, distorted creature, but one in whose heart and soul dwelt all +the cravings and aspirations of youth and intelligence. I was alone in +the world. My father died before my birth, and I cost my mother--her +life. Farwell had, until he was twenty, an adoring though foolish mother, +who laid undue emphasis upon his rights and privileges. She, and an older +brother, died when he was twenty-one--died before the trouble came, but +not before they had done all they could to train him for it. At +twenty-one he was a selfish, hot-headed fellow with a fortune at his +command, a confused sense of right and wrong, an ungoverned, artistic +nature swayed by impulse, and, yes, honest affection and generous +flashes. And I? Well, I found I could buy with my money what otherwise I +must have gone without, but the shadow never counted for the substance +with me. The fawning favour, which held its sneer in check, filled me +with disgust, and I would have been a bitter, lonely fellow but--for +Farwell. + +"I never could quite understand him; I do not to-day, but he, from the +beginning, did not seem to recognize or admit my limitations. Through +preparatory school and college we went side by side. He called me by the +frank and brutal names that boys and men only use to equals. I wonder if +you can understand when I say that to hear him address me as an infernal +coward, when I shrank from certain things, was about the highest +compliment I knew?" + +"Yes," murmured Priscilla, "I can understand that." She could not see +Boswell; the low, impassioned words came from out the shadows like +thoughts. "Yes, I can quite understand how you felt." + +"I am glad that you can, for then you will see--why I have done--what I +could for Farwell--when he needed me. Back in those old days he was not +content to shame me into playing my part; by that power of his, that +worked both good and evil, he compelled others, in accepting him, to +accept me on equal terms. There was a seat for me at the tables to which +he was invited; he discovered my poor talent for telling a story, and +somehow hypnotized others into considering me a wit! A wit!" + +A silence fell between the two by the fire. Priscilla's throat was hard +and dry, her heart aching with pity. + +"And then," Boswell continued drearily, "the crash came when he was only +twenty-five! I suppose he was savagely primitive. That was why externals +did not count so much with him. He could not brook opposition, especially +if injustice marked it; he was never able to estimate or eliminate. He +was like a child when an obstacle presented itself. If he could not get +around it, he attacked it with blind passion. + +"It was part of his nature to espouse the cause of the weak and needy; +that was what held him, unconsciously, to me; it was what attracted him +to Joan Moss." + +The name fell upon Priscilla's mind like a shock. The story was nearing +the crisis. + +"She was outwardly beautiful; inwardly she was as deformed--as I! But in +neither case was he ever able to get the right slant. He loved us both in +his splendid, uncritical way. His love brought me to his feet in abject +devotion: it lured the woman to accomplish his destruction. Something, +some one, menaced her! He tried to sweep the evil aside, but----" + +"Yes, yes, please go on!" Priscilla was breathless. + +"Well, he couldn't sweep it aside; so he committed--murder." + +"Oh! Mr. Boswell!" + +The shuddering cry drew Boswell to the present. He remembered that his +listener knew Farwell only as a friend and gentle comrade. Her shock was +natural. + +"You--you never guessed? Why do you think he, that brilliant fellow, +stayed hidden like a dead thing all these years?"--there was a quiver in +Boswell's voice--"hidden so deep that--not even I dared to go to him for +fear I would be followed and he again trapped! Oh! 'twas an ugly thing he +did; but he was driven to insanity--even his judges believed that--at the +last; but his victim was too big a man to go unavenged, so they hunted +Farwell down, caught him in a trap, and tried to finish him, but he got +away and they thought him--dead." + +"Yes, yes," moaned Priscilla, "yes, I know. And the woman--did her heart +break?" + +At this Boswell leaned forward, and, in the fire's glow, Priscilla saw +his face grow cruel and hard. + +"Her heart break? No, she went promptly to the devil, once she was sure +she had lost Farwell and his money. Down to the last hope she made him +believe in her. How she acted! But when he was reported dead, well!"--and +Boswell gave a harsh laugh--"her heart did not break!" + +A sound brought Boswell back to the dim room. + +"You are--crying?" he said slowly; "crying for him?" + +"For him, yes, and for you!" + +"For me?"--a wonderful tenderness stole into the man's voice--"for me? I +do not think any one before--ever cried for me. Thank you. You understand +what all this meant to me? What a--woman you will be--if----" + +Priscilla raised her tear-stained face and her lips quivered as she +recalled that Farwell had said almost exactly the same words to her back +there in the In-Place. She understood because she had been lonely and +known the suffering of the lonely. She must never forget, never fail +those who needed her! But Boswell was talking on again with a new note of +feeling in his voice. + +"While I thought him dead I sank back into my shell, sank lower than I +had ever been before. I wanted to die; wanted it so truly that I planned +it; grew interested in arranging my affairs. Preparing to die became my +excitement, and when everything was ready, Farwell spoke to me--from his +grave! That letter from your In-Place worked a miracle upon me. While he +lived there would always be something for me to do. He had made a place +in the world for me; I could keep his place ready for him. It was a small +return, but it meant life--for me. + +"There were years when Farwell felt he was coming back. I heard from him +spring and autumn, and there were hope and promise each time. When people +forgot, he would return, and he wanted to go to--to Joan Moss himself +with his story. So long as he knew that she was alive and faithful it was +enough, and, besides, he realized that had she or I gone to him just then +it might have been fatal. He believed that if she knew where he was she +would hasten to him! + +"Well, just at first I thought that he might come at any time and might +rescue--Joan Moss. I was even willing for him to have her if it could add +any happiness to him. Then there was the money--his money. I kept his +belief in that, too. Everything of his went at the time of the trial, but +mine was his, so that was a small matter. I suppose all the sentiment and +passion that most men spread over their entire lives were, in me, +concentrated on Farwell. When I thought of him caged and alone, in the +wilds, I found lying to him about the only thing I could do. So I kept +his belief in Joan Moss and his fortune. Then something happened to him. +I never knew what it was, but it seemed to take all the hope and courage +from him. He wanted me to see that Joan Moss was well taken care of, and +in case of his death she must have all that he died possessed of. Just at +that time Joan Moss came to me, a wreck! She lived only six months, but +for his sake I saw that she had all that he would have had for her. She +thought that he gave it to her, too, or at least she thought his money +gave it, since it was in his will that she should have it. His name was +on her lips when the end came. I will tell him that some day. It will +help him to forgive me. After that I wrote and wrote to him, making +frantic efforts to secure to him, until he were free, what existed no +longer on earth! That is all." + +The fire had died down and become ashy; the wind no longer howled; the +night had fallen into peace at last. + +Priscilla got up stiffly, for she was cold and nerve-worn. She walked +unsteadily to Boswell, her tear-stained face twitching with emotion, her +hands outstretched. In her eyes was the look that only once or twice +in his life had Boswell ever seen directed toward him by any human +being--the look that claimed the hidden and best in him, forgetting the +deformities that limited him. + +"I think you are the best man on earth, the noblest friend. Oh! what can +we do for Master Farwell?" + +Quite simply Boswell took the hands in his. Her eyes made him brave and +strong, and her "we" throbbed in his thoughts like a warm and tender +caress. + +"You must leave that to me," he said gently, giving his kindly smile. "I +cannot share this burden with you. So long have I borne it that it has +become sacred to me. It means only making the story a little longer, a +little stronger. Some day he will have to know--some day; but not now! +not now!" + +Just then a distant church bell struck the midnight hour. Solemnly, +insistently, the twelve strokes rose and fell. + +"The wind has passed," whispered Boswell. + +"Yes, and the fire is dead. You are very, very tired, I am sure," +Priscilla murmured. + +Something new and maternal had entered into her thought and voice. While +life lasted she was always to see in the crippled man a brave and patient +soul who played with sternest problems because he had no other toys with +which to while away his dreary years; no other offerings for them he +loved. + +"Yes. The play is over for--to-night. The Property Man can take his rest +until--to-morrow. Turn on the lights, Priscilla Glenn. You and I must +find our way out of the darkness." + +"Let me help you, Mr. Boswell." + +"Help me? That sounds very kind. I will make believe that I am ninety! +Yes, you may help me. Thank you! And now good night. You need not write +of--Joan Moss to Farwell. I am grateful because you understand and +appreciate my--my attempt. I can bring the tale to a close in great +style. I was a bit discouraged, but it seems clear and convincing now. +That is often the way in my trade of story-maker. We come against a blank +wall, only to find there a gateway that opens to our touch." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +After Boswell's confidence concerning Anton Farwell, Priscilla's relation +to the man who had befriended her, to life itself, became more vital and +normal. The superficial conditions were dissipated by the knowledge that +Boswell, in speaking so frankly to her, considered her a woman, not a +child, and expected a woman's acceptance of duties and responsibilities. +Besides this, Boswell himself took on new proportions. His whimsical +oddities had been, for an hour, set aside. For a time he had permitted +her to see and know him--the simple, good man he really was. In short, +Priscilla could no longer play, could no longer make a defence of her +shyness and ignorance; she realized that she must plunge into the +whirlpool for which she had left the In-Place and she must do so at once. + +Boswell might fantastically play at being ninety and permit her to lend +her strength and youth to his use, but she never again could be deceived. +He was assisting her for Farwell's sake. He liked her, found her +entertaining, but intuitively she knew that in order to retain his +respect and confidence she must fulfil her part. + +For a week or so longer he and she went to operas and theatres together +while final arrangements were being completed for her immediate +admittance, on trial, to the finest private hospital in the city, to +which was attached a training school of high repute. + +Priscilla was both right and wrong about Boswell. He did appreciate and +admire her insistence to begin her career. It was the only course for her +to take; but he looked forward to the lonely, empty days without her with +real concern. + +He had, to a certain extent, grown used to the detachment and +colourlessness of his life since Farwell had left it; but here, quite +unexpectedly, a young and vital personality had entered in and had given +him, in a crude, friendly way, to be sure, what his absent friend had +given--the assurance that his deformity could not exclude him from the +sweet humanity that was keen enough to recognize the soul of him. +Sensitive, shrinking from suffering and publicity, the man found in +Priscilla's companionship and confiding friendliness the deepest joy he +had known since his great loss. He wished that he was ninety, indeed, and +that his infirmity and wealth might secure for him this new interest that +had taken him out of himself and caused his sluggish senses to revive. +But he was not yet fifty. For all his handicaps he was still in fair +health, and the best that he could hope for was that Priscilla, among +her new duties, would remember him, come back to him, make his lonely +home a retreat and comfort when her arduous duties permitted. + +Those last few days of freedom and companionship were beautiful to them +both. With pride and a certain complacency, Boswell saw that he had +somewhat formed and developed Priscilla's tastes and judgment. She was no +longer the ignorant girl she once had been. Music did not now move her to +tears and a kind of dumb suffering. She began to understand, to control +her emotions, and gain, through them, pleasure without pain. + +"She laughs," Boswell thought, "more intelligently and discriminately +when she sees a good farce." + +All this was satisfying to them, but on a certain late-winter day it came +to an end, and Priscilla, thrilling with a sense of achievement, entered +St. Albans on probation. + +What the weeks of doubt and preparation meant, no one, not even Boswell, +ever knew. The old childish determination to suffer, in order to know, +held true and unfaltering. The tortured nerves, after the first shocks, +regained their poise and strength; the heavy work and strict discipline +left the sturdy body like fine steel, although weariness often tested it +sorely. + +"'Tis not to dance, Priscilla Glenn," she often warned herself; "it is to +suffer and know!" + +Then she grimly set her strong, white teeth. With all the getting and +relinquishing, however, she never forgot to laugh, and her courageous +cheerfulness won for her more than she realized while she was learning +the curves of her Road. + +And then she was accepted. No one but herself had ever doubted her +triumph, but when she first learned the verdict she was wild with delight +and could hardly wait for her "hours off" to tell Boswell all about it. + +She was "capped" at last. No hard-won crown was ever appreciated more +than that white trifle which rested like a bit of snow upon the "rusty +hair" of Priscilla Glenn. + +Before the little mirror in her own bedchamber, on that first victorious +day, she posed and confided to her appreciative reflection. + +"So this is Priscilla Glenn of the In-Place?" she whispered. "I simply +can't believe it! No one else would believe it either; and you are not +the same. You never will be again what you once were." + +The flush of excitement showed plainer now than of yore, for the clear, +dark skin had taken on the delicacy of the city's tint. The eyes were +deep and grave, for already they had witnessed the mystery of life and +death. They had smiled down at pain-racked motherhood; had held, in calm +courage, many an outgoing soul. Priscilla had a closer vision than she +once had had when she dreamed her dreams of what lay beyond the Secret +Portage and the Big Bay. + +The reflection nodded acknowledgment to all that the excited brain +affirmed. Then suddenly: + +"Why, Priscilla Glenn, you are crying! And for--which?" + +The quaint expression brought a smile. + +"You are homesick, Priscilla Glenn, homesick for what you have never had! +That's the matter with you. You want some one to go to and tell about +this, but in all the world there isn't any one who could understand. You +poor, poor dear! What would your father and mother think of you? There, +now, never mind. You are only a--blue and white nurse. Even Master +Farwell and Mr. Boswell could not understand; but a woman could. Some +woman! She would know what it means to be free at last and have +something, quite your own, with which to hew and cut your own road; yes, +your own road, right along to--to the end, just as old Pine used to cut +the new trails. It's the standing up straight at last on your own roots +like the dear little white birch in the Place Beyond the Winds. A woman +could understand, but no one else." + +By some subtle power Priscilla had thought and talked her fancy far and +away from the plain room of St. Albans. Her longing, her quaint "for +which?" the memory of the Indian guide and the little white birch had +performed a miracle. Through the excitement and elation stole the +fantastic power of childhood. She was on her Road, bound for her Heart's +Desire! No doubt, no misgiving, assailed the moment of joy. Forward, just +a little beyond, success awaited her. The possibility of defeat was over +forever. From now on, through weariness, toil, and perhaps suffering, she +was going to her own. She had never realized the tense mental and +physical strain through which she had passed; she did not realize it now, +but with the relaxation came an almost dangerous exhilaration. The +present, only so far as it verified the past, had no hold upon her; +she let herself go. + +Back again was she in Kenmore. It was springtime, and the red rocks and +hemlocks shone and the water sparkled; she heard it lapping against the +tiny islands, so glad was it to be free of the winter's grasp. Some one +was dancing to the Spring's Call--a small, graceful thing with a bright +red cape flying on the wind, the soft wind of the In-Place. There was +music, too! Oh! how clearly it came rising and falling; and then, in the +bare hospital room, the blue-clad nurse tripped this way and that, while +memory held true to note and step! + +Oh! It was on again, on again, that dear old dance. It dried the tears in +the tender eyes and held the smile on the joyous lips. Then, as suddenly +as it had begun, the dance ceased, a flushed face confronted the +reflection in the glass, and a low curtsey followed, while a reverent +voice repeated as if in prayer: + +"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +The words came of their own volition; they were part and kin to the mood +that held and swayed her. They were a pagan plea for guidance and +protection in the opening life where wind and fury would beset her. + +Suddenly words of everyday life found their way to her detached +consciousness and recalled her to the present with almost cruel force. + +"It's the little Canuck he wants! Just fancy! I heard him say so to--to +Mrs. Thomas. Such injustice! But there the old Grenadier comes now. +Hustle!" + +Priscilla heard the scampering feet, then, after a moment's pause, the +dignified advance of the superintendent. There was a tap on the door. The +doors of some rooms, owing to discipline, were never tapped by Mrs. +Thomas, but the reason that compelled her to show this courtesy to +Priscilla also caused her to wish this young Canadian was a less serious +person; one more prone to frivol in her "hours off," and not have, for +her most intimate companion, the strange dwarf. She could have forgiven +Priscilla Glenn if, having overdone her "late leave," she had crawled +into a back window to escape punishment. It would have made her more +understandable. As it was, Mrs. Thomas tapped! + +"Come in, please," said Priscilla, and the large, handsome superintendent +entered and sat down. + +"I thought I would come and tell you," she said, trying to keep her +professional expression while her maternal heart warmed to the girl, +"that you have been highly honoured. There is to be a very important +operation to-morrow at three o'clock. Doctor Ledyard is to perform it, +assisted by his young partner. He has asked for several nurses, and he +named _you_--singled you out. He has observed you; wishes to--use you. +It's a great compliment, Miss Glynn." So often had Priscilla corrected, +to no avail, the wrong pronouncing of her name, that she now accepted it +without further demur. Flushing and trembling, she went close to Mrs. +Thomas and held her hands out impulsively. + +"All my glory is coming at once!" she faltered. + +"Glory? Well, you are a queer girl. To stand for hours under that man's +eye! You call it glory? Why, it is an honour because it is _that man, +that eye_; but as to glory! My dear Miss Glynn, I must insist that you go +off this afternoon and play--somewhere. Then come back and get a good +night's rest. The life of the richest man in New York will hang in the +balance to-morrow, and not even the glorified nurse can afford to have a +trembling hand when she passes up an instrument or wipes the perspiration +from the surgeon's brow." + +"Thank you, oh! thank you, Mrs. Thomas! Of course, if I were not so +stupid I could make you understand how I feel. I seem to have found the +right way, and everything is conspiring to tell me so. You see, I might +not have qualified; some girls do not. No one might have noticed me; you +might not have been so kind. Often I am rather lonely and ungrateful; +but you must try to believe that I am--very happy now." + +"I suppose"--Mrs. Thomas was holding the radiant young face with her +clear, calm eyes--"I suppose you are one of those natures that craves +success; cannot brook defeat. Life will deal harshly with you." + +"I am willing to suffer. It is the learning I must have. It is the chance +to learn that makes me so glad," Priscilla burst in, "and it's this sure +feeling that I am on the right trail." + +"There is a difference. But somehow the career of a nurse is +so--well--difficult, and--hard," Mrs. Thomas went on. "I wonder how you +can approach it with your enthusiasm undaunted after months of service." + +"I do not know, but it seems my road to what is mine. It gets me so near +people--when they most need me--are so glad to have me! There seems to +be nothing between me--and them. I love it, oh! I love it, Mrs. Thomas!" + +"See here, Miss Glynn, where are you going this afternoon?" + +"I do not know; just--going." + +"I wish--dear me! I do wish you could go somewhere; do something +shockingly frivolous." + +"No, I couldn't to-day. I feel like praying--or dancing. There's the most +wonderful, singing feeling inside of me. That's why I do not need--fun +as much as most of the girls do. You are very kind; I think I will go to +your big, fine park and walk and walk. I'd like to see the sun set and +the stars----" + +"Now, Miss Glynn, unless you promise me to get under shelter before the +stars come out I'll call the police. Some day you will learn that New +York is not your Canadian hamlet." + +Priscilla laughed gayly. + +"Very well. I will take my walk and then go to my dear old friend. He'll +be looking for me from his high window. He always stands there late +afternoons, on the chance of my coming. He says it's a pleasure to feel +you have something that _may_ come, even if you know it isn't coming just +then." + +Priscilla changed her clothing and set forth a half hour later for her +walk and to meet with an adventure that changed the current of her +thought materially. From that afternoon she was pressed and forced up her +Road by a power that had taken her into control with definite purpose. + +She went into the park at the lower entrance and walked rapidly to a high +place that was a favourite with her. So peaceful and detached it was that +she could generally think her thoughts, sing aloud a little song, and +feel safe from intrusion. Being high and open, the sunlight rested longer +there than it did below and misled one as to time. + +There was a glorious sunset that evening, a golden, deep one, against +which the bare trees, towers, and house roofs stood outlined black and +sharp. It was like a burnished shield. It was a still day, with a gentle +crispness in the air that stimulated while it did not chill. + +"Everything is waiting. What for? what for?" Priscilla whispered sociably +to herself. She was young, full of health and success. Of course she was +waiting as the young do. And then something touched her cheek softly, +and, looking down, she saw that her dark suit was covered with feathery +snowflakes. So silently had they escaped a passing cloud that she was +startled. She arose at once and was surprised to find, in the hollow +below, that the paths were crusted and the electric lights gleamed +yellow through a fluttering mist of flying snow. It was very beautiful, +but it warned one to hasten, and besides it had grown quite dark. + +There was a path, Priscilla knew it well, that led straight across the +park to an entrance near Boswell's home, and she took it now at a rapid +pace. + +The beauty of the walk did not escape her, the exhilaration of the air +acted like a cordial upon her, she seemed hardly to touch the ground as +she ran on; and once she paused before setting her foot upon the lovely +whiteness. As she hesitated some one stepped from the shadow of a clump +of bushes and confronted her under the electric light. + +"Can you tell me how to find the nearest way out? I'm lost." + +Priscilla's heart gave one hard throb and stood still, it seemed for an +hour, while an almost forgotten terror seized and held her. She was +looking full upon Jerry-Jo McAlpin! A soiled and haggard shadow he was +of what he once had been, but it was Jerry-Jo and no other. + +"I--I did not mean to frighten you. Forgive me. I ain't going to hurt +you, Miss. I----" + +But Priscilla was gone before the sentence was finished. Gone before she +knew whether the speaker had recognized her or not. Gone before--and then +she stood still. She could not leave him to wander alone at night in that +big, strange place. No matter what happened, she must treat him humanly, +she, who knew the danger. She went back, her blood running like ice +through her body; but Jerry-Jo McAlpin was not there. Priscilla waited, +and once she spoke vague directions to the empty space, but no answering +voice replied. Presently she controlled herself, and took to the path +again, and reached John Boswell's house before he had left his window. + +She did not tell of the encounter; she felt she must wait, but in her +heart she knew that Jerry-Jo McAlpin was as surely on her trail as she +was herself. Such things as that meeting did not happen to them of the +In-Place unless for a purpose. + +She had a wonderful evening with Boswell. They did not go out, and after +dinner he read her some manuscript stories. Boswell had never before so +intimately permitted her to come close to his work. She had seen stories +of his in print, had heard plans for others, but before the fire in his +study that night he read, among other things, "The Butterfly and the +Beetle." So beautifully, so touchingly, had he pictured the little +romance, of which Priscilla herself was part, that the tears fell from +the girl's eyes while her lips were smiling at the tender humour. The +undercurrent of meaning threw new light on the lonely life of the rich, +but wretched man. The joy depicted in simple, friendly intercourse, the +aspiration of the Beetle, the grateful appreciation for the plain, common +happenings that in most lives were taken for granted, but which in his +rose to monumental importance, endeared him to her anew. It brought back +to her what Boswell had told her of his relations with Farwell Maxwell, +her Anton Farwell. She could now, with her broader, more mature reason, +understand the devotion the cripple had given the one man who, in the +empty years, had taken him without reservation, had ignored his +limitations, and had been his friend and comrade. + +Suddenly she asked: + +"Have you heard from--from Master Farwell lately?" The question startled +Boswell. + +"Yes. I had a letter yesterday. He has been ill. That squaw woman, Long +Jean, took care of him. The letter sounded restless. There'll be trouble +with Farwell before we get through. My letters are evidently lacking +power, and your silence baffles him." + +"Poor Master Farwell!" + +"I fancy he thought Joan Moss would go to him. It has been hard work to +build a barrier between him and her that could satisfy, now that he +believes you have told her of his being among the living." + +"What have you said to him all this time?" + +Boswell shifted his position, and Priscilla saw the haggard, careworn +look spread over his face. By sudden insight she realized that he looked +old, pitiful, and far from well, and her heart filled with sympathy. +The half-mystical life was telling upon him, becoming a burden. + +"Oh, at first I said the surprise of knowing he lived had made her, made +Joan Moss, ill. It took nearly six months to cover that, and I did some +good writing during that period. Then I told him there were things to +settle; then, fear for his safety overpowered her: dread of being +tracked. And since then--well, since then there has been silence. Can +you not understand? His pride has asserted itself at last. If she will +not communicate with him herself, he will have none of me; none of you. +Has he ever said a word about her to--you?" + +"Never," Priscilla answered. + +"But," Boswell went on, "I notice a change in him; an almost feverish +impatience. I fear he doubts me--after all these years!" + +"And when he knows?" + +The man by the fire shrank deeper in his chair. + +"When he knows?" he repeated. "Why, then he will have an opportunity to +understand my life-long devotion, my gratitude, my love! That is all." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +"For real emergencies," Doctor Ledyard once remarked to Helen Travers, +"give me the nervous, high-strung women. They come through shock and +danger better, they hold to a climax more steadily. Your phlegmatic woman +goes to pieces because she hasn't imagination and vision enough to carry +her over the present." + +This reasoning caused him to select Priscilla Glenn for one of the most +critical operations he had ever performed. Among the blue and white +nurses of his knowledge this girl with the strange, uplifted expression +of face; this girl who was actually on the lookout for experience and +practice, and who seriously loved her profession, stood in a class by +herself. He had long had his eye upon her, had meant to single her out. +And now the opportunity had come. + +Perhaps the most important man in business circles, certainly one of the +richest men in the city, had come to that period of his life's career +when he must pay toll for the things he had done and left undone in his +past. The broad, common gateway gaped wide for him, and only one chance +presented itself as a possible means of holding him back from the long +journey he so shudderingly contemplated. + +"One chance in ten?" he questioned. + +"One--in----" Ledyard had hesitated. + +"A hundred?" + +"A thousand." + +A breathless pause followed. Then: + +"And if I do not take it, how long?" + +"A week, a month; not longer." + +"I'll take it." + +"I'll have my partner----Would you care for any one else?" Ledyard asked. + +"No. Since it must be, I put myself in your hands. I trust you above any +one I know. Do your best for me, and in case I slip through your fingers +I thank you now, and--good-bye." + +Before any great event, or operation, Ledyard was supersensitive, highly +wrought, and nervous. When he heard the announcement that day of the +operation: "All is ready, sir!" he stepped, gowned and masked, into the +operating-room, and was aware of a senseless inclination to ask some +one--he did not know whom--to make less noise and to lower the shades. +Then his eye fell, not on the dignified and serene head nurse, not on the +other ghostly young forms in their places near the table, not on the +anesthetist, nor young Travers, his partner, but on the nurse who stood +a little apart, the girl he had selected in order to test her on a really +great case. So radiant and inspired was Priscilla Glenn's face that it +fairly shone in that grim place and positively had the effect of bringing +Ledyard to the calmness that characterized his action once the necessity +demanded. + +"How is your patient, Doctor Sloan?" he asked the anesthetist. + +"Fine, Doctor Ledyard. I'm ready when you are." + +Then tense silence followed, broken only by the click of instruments and +the curt, crisp commands. The minutes, weighted with concentration, ran +into the hour. Not a body in that room was aware of fatigue or anxiety. A +life was at stake, and every one knew it. It did not matter that the man +upon the table was important and useful: had he been the meanest of the +mean and in the same critical state, that steady hand, which guided the +knife so scientifically and powerfully, would have worked the same. + +The sun beat down upon the glass roof of that high room; the perspiration +started to Ledyard's forehead and a nurse wiped it away. + +From her place Priscilla Glenn watched breathlessly the scene before her. +It seemed to her that she had never seen an operation before; had never +comprehended what one could be. She realized the odds against which those +two great men were battling, and her gaze rested finally, not on the head +surgeon, but on his partner. Once, as if by some subtle attraction, he +raised his eyes and met hers. Above the mask his glance showed kindly and +encouragingly. He knew that some nurses lost their nerve when a thing +stretched on as this did; he never could quite overlook the fact that +nurses were women, as well, and he hated to see one go under. But this +young nurse was showing no weakness. Travers saw that, after a moment, +and dropped his eyes. But that glance had fixed Priscilla's face in his +memory, and when, after the great man had been carried to his room with +hope following him, when he could be left with safety to his private +nurse, Travers came upon the girl standing by a deep window in the upper +hall. He remembered her at once and stopped to say a pleasant word. + +This was not the strictly proper thing to do, and Travers knew it. +Ledyard was always challenging his undignified tendencies. + +"Unless doctors and nurses can leave their sex outside their profession," +was a pet epigram of Ledyard's, "they had better choose another." + +But Travers had never been able to fulfil his partner's ideal. + +"It was a wonderful operation," he said. "I hope it did not overtire you. +You will get hardened after a while." + +"I am not at all tired. Yes, it was--wonderful! I did not know any +operation could be like that--I mean in the way that it was done. I have +always been afraid of Doctor Ledyard before; all of us are; I shall never +be again." + +"May I ask why?" + +Travers, being young and vital, was forgetting, for the moment, his +professional air to a dangerous extent. He was noticing the strange +coloured hair under the snowy cap, the poise of the head, the deep +violet eyes in the richly tinted face. + +"It was that--well, the look on his face after he had done all that he +could--done it so wonderfully. That look was--a prayer! I shall never +forget." + +Travers gave a light laugh. + +"It would be like Doctor Ledyard," he said with a peculiarly boyish ring +in his voice, "to do his part first and pray afterward." + +"But no one could ever be afraid of him again having once seen that +look!" + +"Miss Glynn," Travers replied; "they could! and yet the _look_ holds the +fear in check." + +Priscilla went early to bed that night. She had planned a visit to +Boswell when her enthusiasm was at its height, but at the day's end she +found herself so exhausted that she sought her room in a state bordering +on collapse. + +Sounds outside caught and held her attention; every sense was quiveringly +alert and receptive; she was at the mercy of her subconscious self. + +"Extry! extry!" bellowed a boy just below her window; "turribul +accident on--de--extry! extry! Latest bulletin--Gordan Moffatt--big +fin--cier--extry! extry!" + +Priscilla sat up in bed and listened. So intimate had the insistent boy +in the street become that she was drawn to him by a common bond of +sympathy. + +Slowly a luxurious sense of weariness overcame her and again she leaned +back on her pillow and sank into a semiconscious sleep. Balanced between +life and the oblivion, into which reason enters blindfolded, she made no +resistance, but was swayed by every passing wave of thought, memory, and +vision. + +The voice outside merged presently into Jerry-Jo McAlpin's. So naturally +did it do so that the girl upon the bed, rigid and pale, accepted the +change with no surprise. + +Jerry-Jo was asking her the way out! He was lost--lost. He wanted to get +out of the darkness and the noise; he wanted to find his way back to the +In-Place. + +Yes, she would show him! There was no fear of him; no repulsion. She was +very safe and strong, and she knew that it was wiser for Jerry-Jo to go +back home. + +Then suddenly she and he were transported from the bewildering city, +talking in its sleep, to the sweet, fresh dimness of the Kenmore Green, +where the steamer had left them. It was early, very early morning, not +more than four o'clock, and the stars were bright and the hemlocks black, +and the red rocks looked soft in the shadows, like pillows. And over the +Green, loping and inquisitive, came Sandy McAdam's dog, Bounder. How +natural and restful the scene was! Then it was Jerry-Jo, not Priscilla, +who was leading. The half-breed with a gesture of friendliness was +beckoning her on toward the mossy wood path leading to Lonely Farm. There +was a definiteness about the slouching figure that forbade any pause at +the White Fish Lodge or the master's dark and silent house. Priscilla +longed to stop, but she hastened on, feeling a need for hurry. + +Presently she saw the little house, her father's house, and there was a +light shining from the kitchen window. Jerry-Jo, still preceding her, +tapped on the outer door, but when the door fell open Jerry-Jo was gone! +Alone, Priscilla confronted her father, and saw with surprise that he +evidently expected her. While the look of hatred and doubt still rested +in his eyes, there was also a look of dumb pity. No word was spoken. +Nathaniel merely stepped aside and closed the door behind her. Then she +began a strange, breathless hunt for something which, at first, she could +not call by name; it evaded and eluded her. Something was missing; +something she wanted desperately; but the rooms were horribly dark and +lonely, and the stillness hurt her more and more. + +At last she came back to her father and the warm, lighted kitchen. + +"I cannot find--my mother," she said, and the reality set her trembling. + +"Your--mother? I--I cannot find her, either. I thought she--followed +you!" + +Cold and shivering, Priscilla sat up in bed. Her teeth chattered and +there were tears on her cheeks. They did not seem like her own tears. It +was as if some one, bending over her, had let them fall from eyes seeking +to find her in the dark. + +"Mother!" moaned Priscilla, and with the word a yearning and craving for +her mother filled every sense. By a magic that the divine only controls, +poor Theodora Glenn in that moment was transformed and radiantly crowned +with the motherhood she had so impotently striven to achieve in her +narrowed, blighted life. The suffering of maternity, its denials and +relinquishings she had experienced, but never its joy of realization, +unless, as her spirit passed from the Place Beyond the Winds to its +Home, it paused beside the little, narrow, white bed upon which Priscilla +lay, and caught that name "Mother!" spoken with a sudden inspiration of +understanding. + +And that night, with only her grim husband and Long Jean beside her, +Theodora escaped the bondage of life. + +After the strange dream, Priscilla, awed and trembling, walked to the +wide open window of her room. For some moments she stood there breathing +fast and hard while the cruel clutch of superstition hurt and held her. + +"Something has happened," she faltered, leaning upon the casement and +looking down into the silent street, for the restless city had at last +fallen to sleep. "Something in Kenmore!" + +A red, pulsing planet, shining high over a nearby church tower, caught +her eye and brought a throb of comfort to her--a tender thought of home. + +"To-morrow, perhaps, a letter will come from Master Farwell; if not, I +will write to him. I must know." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +For two or three days things fell into such commonplace routine that the +excitement of the big operation and the disturbing dream of the night +lost their sharp, clear lines; became blurred and part of the web and +woof of the hospital régime. There was little time for introspection or +romancing and even the chance meeting with Jerry-Jo was relegated to the +non-essentials. Of course he was in the city, but so were the Hornby boys +and others from the In-Place. The whirlpool was a big and rushing thing, +and if they who had once been neighbours caught a glimpse of each other +from dizzy eddies, what did it matter? The possibility of second meetings +was rare. + +John Boswell had been sympathetic, to a certain degree, with Priscilla +concerning the operation and her very evident pride in the part she had +been permitted to take in it. With the instinctive horror that many have +concerning sickness and suffering, he always made an effort to appear +sympathetic when Priscilla grew graphic. Often this caused her to laugh, +but she never doubted Boswell's sincere interest in her, personally. That +she had overcome and achieved was a thing of real gratification to the +lonely man; that she came to him naturally and eagerly, during her hours +of freedom, was the only unalloyed joy of his present existence. Even +Toky hailed her appearances now with frank pleasure, for she, and she +alone, brought the rare, sweet smile to the master's face and gave a +meaning to the artistic meals that were planned. + +"I think, my Butterfly," Boswell often said to her, "that you have soared +to glory through suffering and gore! But it is the soaring and the glory +that matter, after all. Do not lay it up against your poor Beetle if he +makes a wry face now and then. You are desperately dramatic, you know, +but even in my shudders I do not lose sight of the fact that you are a +very triumphant Butterfly." + +Priscilla beamed upon him; the new light of well-poised serenity did not +escape him. + +"If I could only explain!" she once said to him as they sat facing each +other across the table that Toky had laid so artistically. "When I feel +the deepest my words seem shut in a cage; only a few get through the +bars. I really believe people all feel the same about their little +victories. It isn't the kind of victory; it is the sure realization that +you are doing _your_ work--the work you can do best. Why, sometimes I +feel as if I were the big All Mother, and the sad, helpless, suffering +folk were _my_ dear children just looking to me--to me! And then I try +to take the pain and fear from their faces by all the arts my profession +has taught me and all the--the _something_ that is in me, and--I tell +you----" + +Priscilla paused, while the shining light in her big eyes was brightened, +rather than lessened, by the tears that gathered, then retreated. + +"And for all this," Boswell broke in, "you are to get twenty-five per, or +for a particular case, thirty-five per?" + +They smiled broadly at each other, for their one huge, compelling joke +loomed close. + +"Well, sir, when one considers what two intelligent people, like you and +me, did with Master Farwell's one hundred dollars, the future looks +wonderfully rich! I shall soon be able to repay the loan with interest." + +And then they talked a bit of Master Farwell and the In-Place, always +skirting the depths gracefully, for Boswell never permitted certain +subjects to escape his control. It was the half-playful, but wholly +kind dignity that had won for him Priscilla's faith and dependence. + +For a week or two after Gordon Moffatt's operation things went calmly and +prosaically at the hospital. The rich man recovered so rapidly and +satisfactorily that even the outside world took things for granted, and +any items of news concerning him were to be found on the inside pages of +the newspapers. During his convalescence Priscilla met Doctor Ledyard and +Doctor Travers many times. Once, by some mysterious arrangement, she was +assigned charge, in the rich man's room, while his own nurse was absent. +For three days and nights she obeyed his impatient commands and reasoned +with him when he confused his dependent condition with his usual +domineering position. + +"Damn me!" he once complained to Travers when he thought Priscilla was +out of hearing; "that young woman you've given charge over me ought to +have a bigger field for her accomplishments. She's a natural-born tyrant. +I tried to escape her this morning; had got as far as one foot out of bed +when she bore down upon me, calmly, devilishly calmly, pointed to my +offending foot, and said: "Back, sir!" Then we argued a bit--I'm afraid I +was a trifle testy--and finally she laid hands upon my ankle in the most +scientific manner and had me on my back before I could think of the +proper adjectives to apply to her impudence." + +Travers laughed and looked beyond the sick man's bed to the bowed head of +Priscilla as she bent over some preparation she was compounding in an +anteroom. From a high window the sunlight was streaming down on the +wonderful rusty-coloured hair. The girl's attitude of detachment and +concentration held the physician's approving glance, but the wave of +hair under the white cap and against the smooth, clear skin lingered in +the memory of the _man_ long after he forgot Moffatt's amusing anecdote. + +And then, because things were closing in upon Priscilla Glenn's little +stage, something happened so commonplace in its character that its effect +upon the girl was out of all proportion. + +After a rather strenuous day she was sleeping heavily in her little white +room when a sharp knock on her door brought her well-trained senses into +action at once. + +"There's been an accident, Miss Glynn." It was the superintendent who +spoke. "Please report on Ward Five as soon as possible." + +It was an insignificant accident; such a one as occurs shockingly often +in our big cities. A large touring car, with seven passengers, rushing up +a broad avenue with a conscientious man at the wheel, had overhauled a +poor derelict with apparently no fixed purpose in his befuddled brain. In +order to spare the fellow, the chauffeur had wheeled his car madly to one +side, and, by so doing, had hit an electric-light pole, with the result +that every one was more or less injured, the forlorn creature who had +caused the excitement, most of all, for the over-turned machine had +included him in its crushing destruction. + +Four men and three women were carried to St. Albans and now occupied +private rooms, while the torn and broken body of the unknown stranger lay +in Ward Five, quite unconscious. He was breathing faintly, and, since +they had made him clean and decent, he looked very young and wan as he +rested upon the narrow, white bed. + +Priscilla stood at the foot of the cot and read the chart which a former +nurse had hurriedly made out; then she came around to the side and looked +down upon--Jerry-Jo McAlpin! + +She knew him at once. The deathlike repose had wiped away much that +recent years had engraven on his face. He looked as Priscilla remembered +him, standing in his father's boat, proudly playing the man. + +For a moment the quiet girl grew rigid with superstitious fear. That +deathlike creature before her filled her with unreasoning alarm. She +almost expected him to open his black eyes and laughingly announce that +he had found her at last! She longed to flee from the room before he had +a chance to gain control of her. She breathed fast and hard, as she had +that morning when his ringing jeer had stayed her feet as she ran from +the Far Hill Place after the night of terror. Then sanity came to her +relief and she knew, with a pitying certainty born of her training, that +Jerry-Jo McAlpin could never harm her again. That he was a link between +the past and the future she realized with strange sureness. He had always +been that. He had made things happen; been the factor in bringing +experiences to her. She, in self-preservation, would not claim any +knowledge of him now; she would care for him and wait--wait until she +understood just what part he was to play in her present experience. +He might threaten all that she had gained for herself--her peace and +security. Her only safeguard now was to ignore the personality before +her and respond to the appeal of the "case." + +Jerry-Jo was destined to become interesting before he slipped away. Known +only as a number, since he had not been identified or claimed, he rapidly +rose to importance. After three days of unconsciousness he still +persisted, and while his soul wandered on the horizon, his body responded +to the care given it and grew in strength. One doctor after another +watched and commented on his chances, and in due time Doctor Travers, +hearing of the case, stopped to examine it, and, in the interest of +science, suggested an operation that might possibly return the poor +fellow to a world that had evidently no place for him. + +"It's worth trying," Travers said as he and Priscilla stood beside the +bed. "We haven't found out anything concerning him, have we?" + +Priscilla shook her head. + +"Suppose he--well, suppose he had any claim upon you, would you take the +chance of the operation for him?" + +The deep, friendly eyes were fixed upon the girl. She coloured sharply, +then went quite pale. There was a most unaccountable struggle, and +Travers smiled as he thought how conscientious she was to feel any deep +responsibility in a question he had asked, more in idle desire to make +talk than for any other reason. + +"Yes," she replied suddenly, as her head was lifted; "yes, I'd give him +every chance." + +Just then, in one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, +the man upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then +at Priscilla. Again his gaze shifted, gaining strength and meaning. From +the far place where he had fared for days his mind, lighted by reason, +was abnormally clear and almost painfully reinforced by memory. Then he +laughed--laughed a long, shuddering laugh that drew the thin lips back +from the white, fang-like teeth. Before the sound was finished the light +faded from the black eyes and the grim silence shut in close upon the +last quivering note. + +[Illustration: "In one of those marvellous flashes of regained +consciousness, the man upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, +first at Travers, then at Priscilla"] + +"We'll take the chance," said Travers. And late that very afternoon they +took it. + +A week later Priscilla sat beside the man's bed, her right hand upon his +pulse, her watch in her left. So intent was she upon the weak movement +under her slim fingers that she had forgotten all else until a voice from +a far, far distance seemingly, whispered hoarsely: + +"So--so this is--you? I'm not dreaming? I wasn't dreaming before +when--when he and you came?" + +They had all been expecting this. The operation had been very successful, +though it was not to give the patient back to life. They all knew that, +too. + +"Yes, Jerry-Jo, it's I." + +There was no tremor in the low voice, only a determination to keep the +world from knowing. Jerry-Jo was past hurting any one. + +"The--lure got you, too?" + +"Yes, the lure got me." + +"I knew you that night in the dark--that night in the park--you ran from +me. I was lost and--and starving!" + +"I came back, Jerry-Jo. I did indeed." + +"Have I been here--long?" + +"Not very. Do not talk any more. You must rest. There is to-morrow, you +know." + +The poor fellow was too weak to laugh, but the long teeth showed for a +moment. + +"I must talk. Listen! Do they know here--about me? know my name?" + +"No." + +"Don't tell them. Don't tell any one. I have done something for you! +They think, back there in Kenmore, that you are with me. I've written +that--and schoolmaster hasn't let on. I haven't gone to the Hornbys here, +because I stood by you. No one must know. See?" + +"Yes, Jerry-Jo, I see. Please lie still now. It shall be as you wish. You +have been--very good--for my sake!" + +"I've starved and slept in dark holes--for you, and now you and him--have +got to take care of me--or--I'll tell! I'll tell, as sure as God hears +me!" + +"We will take care of you, Jerry-Jo. There! there! I promise; and you +know we of the In-Place stand by each other." + +He was comforted at last, and fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion. +Occasionally, in the days following, he opened his tired eyes and gave +evidence of consciousness. He was drifting out calmly and painlessly, +and all the coarseness and degeneracy of the half-breed seemed dropping +by the way. Sometimes his glance rested on Doctor Travers's face, for +the young physician was deeply interested in the case and was touched by +the lonely, unclaimed fellow who had served science, but could derive no +benefit in return. Often Jerry-Jo's dark eyes fell upon the pitying face +of Priscilla Glenn with ever-growing understanding and kindliness. +Sometimes in the long nights he clung to her like a child, for she was +very good to him; very, very devoted. + +One night, when all the world seemed sleeping, he whispered to her: + +"You--you don't know, really?" + +Priscilla thought he was wandering, and said gently: + +"No, Jerry-Jo, really I do not know." + +"What will you give me--if I tell you the biggest secret in the world?" + +She had his head in the hollow of her arm; he was resting more calmly so. +He had been feverish all day. + +"What--can I give you, Jerry-Jo?" + +The old, pleading look was in the dark eyes, but low passion had vanished +forever. + +"Could you--would you give me a kiss for the secret?" + +"Yes, Jerry-Jo," and the kiss fell upon the white brow. + +Could John Boswell have been there then he would have understood. + +"You--you are crying! I feel a tear with the kiss!" + +The quivering, broken smile smote Priscilla to the heart. The ward +was deathly quiet; only the deep breathing of men closer to life than +Jerry-Jo McAlpin broke the stillness. + +"Why--do you cry?" + +"You know, it's a bad habit of mine, Jerry-Jo." + +"Yes. You--you cried on his book, you remember?" + +"I remember." + +"Do--you know where he is--now?" + +"No. Do you?" + +The head upon the strong, young arm moved restlessly. + +"Yes--I know--and I'm--going to tell you! It's the biggest joke I ever +knew. Just to think--that you don't know, and he doesn't know, and--and +I do!" + +A rattling, husky laugh shook the thin form dangerously. Every instinct +of the nurse rose in alarm and defence. + +"You must not talk any more, Jerry-Jo. Lie still. Come, let us think of +the In-Place." + +Priscilla slipped her arm from under the dark head, and took the +wandering hands in hers. Her random words had power to hold and chain +the weak mind. + +"I'm going to tell you--where he is--but we'll go back to the In-Place. I +want to tell you there, and--he'll come and find you. I'd like to do you +both a good turn--for what you've done for me." + +Then, after a pause and a gasping breath: + +"It's growing dark, but there's Dreamer's Rock and Bleak Head!" + +"And, Jerry-Jo," whispered Priscilla, "there's Lone Tree Island, +don't you see? Your boat is coming around into the Channel. Please tell +me--where he is, Jerry-Jo----" + +Priscilla realized he was going fast, and the secret suddenly gripped her +with strange power. She must have it; she must know! + +"Please, Jerry-Jo, tell me where he is. I have wanted so to know! Listen! +Can you not hear--the dear old sounds, the pattering of the soft little +waves that the ice has let go free? There's the farm, the woods----" But +Jerry-Jo was struggling to rise; his black eyes wide and straining, his +thin arms outstretched. + +"No!" he moaned hoarsely, and already he seemed far away. "I can't make +the Channel. I'm headed for the Secret Portage and the Big Bay." + +"Jerry-Jo! oh! tell me, where is he? Where is he?" + +But Priscilla knew it was too late. She bent and listened at the still +breast that was holding the secret close from her. Then, with a sense of +having been baffled, defeated, and cruelly cheated, she dropped her wet +face in her hands for a moment before she went to do her last duty for +Jerry-Jo. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +The following June Priscilla Glenn graduated. She and John Boswell grew +quite merry over the event. + +"I really can't let you spend anything on me," she said laughingly; +"nothing more than the cost of a few flowers. I have the awful weight of +debt upon me at the beginning of my career. One hundred dollars to Master +Farwell, and----" + +"The funeral expenses of that poor waif you were so interested in! My +dear child, you are as niggardly with your philanthropies as you are with +your favours. Why not be generous with me? And, by the way, can you tell +me just why that young fellow appealed to you so? I daresay other +'unknowns' drift into St. Albans." + +"He looked--you will think me foolish, Mr. Boswell--but he looked like +some one I once knew in Kenmore." + +The warm June day drifted sunnily into Boswell's study window. There was +a fragrance of flowers and the note of birds. Priscilla, in her plain +white linen dress, was sitting on the broad window seat, and Boswell, +from his winged chair, looked at her with a tightening of the throat. +There were times when she made him feel as he felt when Farwell Maxwell +used to look at him before the shadow fell between them--the shadow that +darkened both their lives. + +"And that was why you had a--a Kenmore name graven on the stone?" + +"Yes, Mr. Boswell, Jerry-Jo McAlpin. Jerry-Jo is dead, too, you know. +They name living people after dead ones. Why not dead people?" + +"Why, indeed? It's quite an idea. Quite an original idea. But as to my +spending money on your graduation, a little more added to what you +already owe me will not count, and, besides, there is that trifle left +from Farwell's loan still to your credit." + +"Now, Mr. Boswell, don't press me too close! I was a sad innocent when +I came from the In-Place, and a joke is a joke, but you mustn't bank on +it." + +The bright head nodded cheerfully at the small, crumpled figure in the +deep chair. + +"After you live in New York three years, Mr. Boswell, you never mistake +a shilling for a dollar, sir. But just because it is such a heavenly +day--and between you and me, how much of that magic fund is left?" + +"I've mislaid my account," Boswell replied, the look that Toky watched +for stealing over his thin face; "but, roughly speaking, I should say +that, with the interest added, about fifty dollars, perhaps a trifle +more." + +Priscilla threw back her head and laughed merrily. + +"I can understand why people say your style is so absorbing," she said +presently; "you make even the absurd seem probable." + +"Who have you heard comment on my style?" Boswell leaned forward. He was +as sensitive as a child about his work. + +"Oh, one of the doctors at St. Albans told me that, to him, you were the +Hans Christian Andersen of grown-ups. He always reads you after a long +strain." + +A flush touched the sallow cheeks, and the long, white fingers tapped the +chair arms nervously. + +"Well!" with a satisfied laugh, "I can prove the amount to your credit in +this case without resorting to my style. Would you mind going into your +old room and looking at the box that you will find on the couch?" + +Priscilla ran lightly from the study, her eyes and cheeks telling the +story of her delight. + +The box was uncovered. Some sympathetic hand, as fine as a woman's, had +bared the secret for her. No mother could possibly have thought out +detail and perfection more minutely. There it lay, the gift of a generous +man to a lonely girl, everything for her graduating night! The filmy gown +with its touch of colour in embroidered thistle flowers; the slippers and +gloves; even the lace scarf, cloud-like and alluring; the long gloves and +silken hose. + +Down beside the couch Priscilla knelt and pressed her head against the +sacred gift. She did not cry nor laugh, but the rapt look that used to +mark her hours before the shrine in Kenmore grew and grew upon her face. + +"You will accept? You think I did well in my--shopping?" + +Boswell stood in the doorway, just where a long path of late June +sunlight struck across the room. For the girl, looking mutely at him with +shining eyes, he was transfigured, translated. Only the great, tender +soul was visible to her; the unasking, the kind spirit. Moved by a sudden +impulse, Priscilla rose to her feet and walked to him with outstretched +hands; when she reached him he took her hands in his and smiled up at +her. + +"I--I accept," she whispered with a break in her voice. "You have made +me--happier than I have ever been in my life!" + +Boswell drew her hands to his lips and kissed them. + +"And you will come and see me in them"--Priscilla turned her eyes to the +box--"when I--dance?" + +"You are to dance?" + +"We are all to dance." + +"I have not seen you dance for many a day. If you dance as you once did +there will be only you dancing. Yes, I will come." + +And Boswell went. The exercises were held in the little chapel. From his +far corner he watched the young women, in uniforms of spotless white, +file to the platform for their diplomas. They all merged, for him, into +one--a tall, lithe creature with burnished hair, coppery and fine, and an +exalted face. Later, from behind the mass of palms and ferns in the +dancing hall, he saw only one girl--a girl in white with the tints of +the thistle flower matching the deep eyes. + +And Priscilla danced. Some one, a young doctor, asked her, and +fortunately for him he was a master hand at following. After a moment of +surprise, tinged with excited determination, he found himself, with his +brilliant partner, the centre of attraction. + +"Look! oh, do look at the little Canuck!" cried a classmate. + +"I never saw any one dance as she does"--it was Doctor Travers who spoke +from the doorway beside Mrs. Thomas--"but once before. It's quite +primeval, an instinct. No one can teach or acquire such grace as that." + +Then, suddenly, and apropos of nothing, apparently: + +"By the way, Mrs. Thomas, Miss Moffatt has been ordered abroad by Doctor +Ledyard. He spoke to-day about securing a companion-nurse for her. She's +not really ill, but in rather a curious nervous condition. I was +wondering if----" His eyes followed Priscilla, who was nearing the +cluster of palms behind which Boswell sat. + +"Of course!" Mrs. Thomas smiled broadly; "Miss Glynn, of course! She's +made to order. The girl has her way to make. She's been rather overdoing +lately. I don't like the look in her eyes at times. She never asks for +sympathy or consideration, you understand, but she makes every woman, and +man, too, judging by that rich cripple, Mr. Boswell, yearn over her. +She'd be the merriest soul on earth, with half a chance, and she's the +most capable girl I have: ready for an emergency; never weary. Why, of +course, Miss Glynn!" + +"I'll speak to Doctor Ledyard to-night," said Travers. + +Then, strangely enough, Travers realized that he was very tired. He +excused himself, and, walking back through the dim city streets to the +Ledyard home, he thought of Kenmore and the old lodge as he had not for +years. + +"I believe I'll run up there this summer," he muttered half aloud. "I'll +take mother and urge Doctor Ledyard to join us. I would like to see how +far I've travelled from the In-Place in--why it's years and years! All +the way from boyhood to manhood." + +But Ledyard changed the current of his desire. The older man was sitting +in his library when Travers entered, and Helen Travers was in the deep +window opening to the little garden space behind the house. + +Time had dealt so gently with Helen that now, in her thin white gown, she +looked even younger than in the Kenmore days, when her dress had been +more severe. + +"You're late," said Ledyard, looking keenly at him. + +"Very late," echoed Helen, smiling. "I had dinner here and am waiting to +be escorted home." + +"She's refused my company. Where have you been, Dick?" + +"I had to give out the diplomas, you know, at St. Albans." + +"It's after eleven now, Dickie." Helen's gaze was full of gentle pride. + +"I stopped for an hour to see those little girls play." + +"The nurses?" Ledyard frowned. "Girls and nurses are not one and the same +thing, to a doctor." + +"Oh, come, come, dear friend!" Helen Travers went close to the two who +were dearest to her in the world. "Do not be unmerciful. Being a woman, +I must stand up for my sex. Did they play prettily, Dick? I'm sure they +did not look as dear as they do in their uniforms." + +"One did. She was--well, to put it concisely, she was a--dance!" + +"Umph! That ruddy-headed one, I bet!" Ledyard turned on another electric +light. "See here, Dick, do you think that girl could go abroad with +Gordon Moffatt's daughter? Moffatt spoke about her. She rather impressed +him while he was in St. Albans. She stood up against him. He never +forgets that sort; he swears at it, but he trusts it. The old housekeeper +is going along to keep the party in order, but a trained hand ought to +go, too. The Moffatt girl has the new microbe--Unrest. It's playing the +devil with her nerves. She's got to be jogged into shape." + +"I think we could prevail upon Miss Glynn to go. She has her way to make. +She's been rather----" Travers stopped short; he was quoting Mrs. Thomas +too minutely. + +"Rather what, Dick?" Helen had her head against her boy's shoulder. + +"Hunting a job," he lied manfully. "Most of those girls are up against it +once the training is over." + +"And Dick," Helen raised her eyes, "Doctor Ledyard and I were talking +of a trip abroad this summer for--ourselves. Will you come? We want the +off-the-track places. Little by-products, you know. I'm hungry for--well, +for detachment; but with those I love." + +"Just the thing, little mother, just the thing!" The In-Place faded from +sight. In its stead rose a lonely mountain peak that caught the first +touch of day and held it longest. A little lake lay at its foot, and +there was the old house where he and Helen had spent so much of the +summer while he and she were abroad! + +"Where does Miss Moffatt intend to go?" asked Travers. + +"That's it. Her ideas at present are typical of her condition. 'Snip +the cord that holds me,' she said to me to-day; 'beg father to give +me a handful of blank checks and old Mousey'--that's what she calls +the housekeeper--'buy a nice nurse for me in case I need one--a nice +un-nurse-like nurse,' she stipulated--'and let me play around the world +for a few months to see if I can find my real self hiding in some cranny; +then I'll come back and be good!' The girl's a fool, but most girls are +when they've been brought up as she has been. Moffatt is at his wits' +end. Young Clyde Huntter is on the carpet just now. Think of that match! +think of what it would mean to Moffatt! There are times when I regret the +club and cliff-dwelling age where women are concerned." + +"Now, now, my dear friend, please remember my sex." + +Helen ran from Richard to Ledyard. "We're all fagged, and the June night +is sultry. After all, girls, even women, should be allowed a mind of +their own! Take me home, Dick, I'm deeply offended." She smiled and held +out her hands. + +"If they were all as sane as you, Helen," Ledyard's glance softened. "You +are exceptional." + +"Every woman is an exceptional something, good friend, if only an +exceptional fool. I'm rather proud of Margaret Moffatt's determination to +have her way, and that idea of finding herself in some cranny of the old +world is simply beautiful. I wonder----" + +"What, Helen?" + +"I wonder if an old lady like me, a lady with hair turning frosty, might, +by any possibility, find _her_ real self left back there--oh! ages, ages +before--well, before things happened which she never understood?" + +Ledyard's eyes grew moist, but he made no reply. + +It was three days later that Priscilla Glenn received a note from +Margaret Moffatt, but she had already been prepared for it by Doctor +Ledyard and Mrs. Thomas. + +"Since they think I need a nurse," the note ran, "will you call at eleven +to-morrow and see if you consider me sufficiently damaged to require your +care? From what father says, I am prepared to succumb to you at once. +Both father and I like strong oppositions!" + +The June weather had turned chilly after the brief spell of heat, and +when Priscilla was ushered into Margaret Moffatt's private library she +found a bright cannel coal fire in the little grate, beside which sat a +tall, handsome girl in house gown of creamy white. + +"And so you are--Miss Glynn?" + +As a professional accepts a non de plume, Priscilla had accepted her +name. + +"Yes. And you are--Miss Moffatt?" + +"Please sit down--no, not way off there! Won't you take this chair beside +me? I'm rather an uncanny person, I warn you. If I do not like to have +you close to me now, we could never get on--across the water! What +belongs to me, and what I ought to have, is mine from the first. Besides, +I want you to know the worst of me--for your own sake. Would you mind +taking off your hat? You have the most cheerful hair I ever saw." + +Priscilla laid her broad-brimmed hat aside and laughed lightly. She was +as uncanny as Margaret Moffatt, but she could not have described the +charm that drew her to the girl across the hearth. + +"I'm rather a hopelessly cheerful person," she said, settling herself +comfortably; "it's probably my chief virtue--or shortcoming." + +"You know I am not a bit sick--bodily, Miss Glynn. It's positively +ridiculous to have a nurse for me, but if I am to get my way with my +father I must humour him. A dear old family servant is going with me. +Father did want a private cook and guide, but we've compromised on--you! +I do hope you'll undertake the contract. I'm not half bad when I have my +way. Do you think, now that you have seen me for fifteen minutes, that +you could--tolerate me; take the chance?" + +"I should be very glad to be with you." Priscilla beamed. + +"Your eyes are--blue, I declare! Miss Glynn, by all the laws of nature +you should have eyes as dark as mine." + +"Yes; an old nurse back in my Canadian home used to say I was made of the +odds and ends of all the children my mother had and lost." + +"What a quaint idea! I believe she was right, too. That will make you +adaptable. Miss Glynn, let me tell you something, just enough to begin +on, about myself--as a case. I'm tired to death of everything that has +gone before; I do not fit in anywhere. I believe I'm quite a different +person from what every one else believes; I've never had a chance to +know myself; I've been interpreted by--by generations, traditions, and +those who love me. I want to get far enough away to--get acquainted with +myself, and then if I am what I hope I am, I will return like a happy +queen and triumphantly enter my kingdom. If I am not worthy--well, we +will not talk about that! Something, I may tell you some day, has +suddenly awakened me. I'm rather blinded and deafened. I must have time. +Can you bear with me?" + +Margaret Moffatt leaned forward in her chair. Priscilla saw that her +large brown eyes were tear-filled; the strong, white, outstretched +hands trembling. A wave of sympathy, understanding, and great liking +overwhelmed Priscilla, and she rose suddenly and stood beside the girl. + +"I--think I was meant--to help you," she said so simply that she could +not be misunderstood. "When do we--go?" + +"Go? Oh! you mean on the hunt for myself?" + +"Yes." + +"Father has the refusal of staterooms on two steamers. Could you start +in--a week? Or shall we say three weeks?" + +"It will not take me a day to get ready. My uniforms----" + +"Please, Miss Glynn, leave them behind. I'm sure you're just a nice girl +besides being a splendid nurse. I want the nice girl with me." + +"Very well. That may take two days longer." + +"We'll sail, then, in a week. And will you--will you--will you accept +something in advance, since time is so short?" + +"Something----?" + +"Yes. Your--your salary, you know." + +"Oh, you mean money? I had forgot. I shall be glad to have some. I am +very poor." + +Again the simple, frank dignity touched Margaret Moffatt with pleasurable +liking. + +"It's to be a hundred and fifty dollars a month and all expenses paid, +Miss Glynn." + +"A hundred and fifty? Oh! I cannot----" + +"Doctor Ledyard arranged it with my father. You see, they know what you +are to undergo. I rather incline to the belief that they consider they +are making quite a bargain. I hate to see you cover your hair. Somehow +you seem to be dimming the sunshine. Good-bye until----" + +"Day after to-morrow." + +"I will send a check to St. Albans to-night, Miss Glynn." + +And she did. A check for two hundred dollars with a box of yellow +roses--Sunrise roses they were called. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +There are times in life, especially when one is young, that high peaks +are the only landmarks in sight. Priscilla Glenn felt that henceforth her +Road was to be a highway constructed in such a fashion that airy bridges +would connect the lofty altitudes, and all below would exist merely as +views. + +Her first thought, on the day following her interview with Margaret +Moffatt, was to get to John Boswell, and, as she laughingly put it, pay +off her debts! + +Two hundred dollars and a full month's money from St. Albans! Gordon +Moffatt certainly could not feel richer than she. And then the months +ahead! Well--one could get dizzy on one's own heights. So Priscilla +calmed herself by a day of strenuous shopping and looked forward to the +evening with Boswell. + +A dim drizzle set in late in the afternoon, and there was a chill in the +air that penetrated sharply. The mist transformed everything, and, to +tired, overexcited nerves, the real had a touch of the unreal. The park +glistened: the tender new green on tree, bush, and grass looked as if it +had just been polished, and the early flowers stood crisply on their +young stalks. + +At the point where once she had met poor Jerry-Jo McAlpin, Priscilla +paused and was taken into control by memory and the long-ago Past. Quite +unaccountably, she longed to have her mother, even her father, know of +her wellbeing. Surely they would forgive everything if they knew just how +things had turned out for her! She almost wished she had decided to go +back to the In-Place before she started on her trip abroad. She could +have made them understand about her and poor Jerry-Jo. Was old Jerry +waiting and waiting? Something clutched Priscilla sharply. The loneliness +and silence of the Place Beyond the Winds enfolded her like a compelling +dream. How they could patiently wait, those home folks of hers! And how +dear they suddenly became, now that she was going into the new life that +promised her her Heart's Desire! + +Then she decided: since she could not go to them she must write to Master +Farwell, he had never answered her last letter, and beg him to tell them +all about it. He would go, she felt sure, and, by some subtle magic, she +seemed to see him passing along the red-rock road, his long-caped coat +flapping in the soft wind, his hair blowing across his face, the dogs +following sociably. He'd go first to old Jerry's, and then afterward, an +hour, maybe, for it would be hard for Jerry McAlpin--he would go to +Lonely Farm by way of the wood path that led by the shrine in the open +place--was the skull still there with the long-dead grasses in its ears? +It would be night, perhaps, when the master reached the farm; maybe the +star would be shining over the hemlock---- + +At this point Priscilla paused and caught her breath sharply. She had +come out of the park by the gateway opposite Boswell's apartment, and +just ahead of her, across the street, was a thin, stooping figure with +caped coat flapping in the rising wind, and hair blowing across a bent +face. + +"I--I am dreaming!" The words came brokenly. "I am bewitched!" + +But with characteristic quickness of thought and action she put her doubt +to the test. Running across the space between her and that slow-stepping +figure she panted huskily: + +"Master Farwell! Master Farwell!" + +He turned and fixed his deep, haunting eyes upon her. + +"It's Priscilla Glenn!" he whispered, as if to reassure himself; "little +Priscilla of the In-Place." + +By some trick of over-stimulated imagination Priscilla tried to adjust +the gentle, kindly man she knew and loved to the strange creature into +which he had evolved since last she met him, but she could not! To her he +would always be the friend and helper, the understanding guide of her +stormy girlhood. The rest was but shadows that came and went, cast by +happenings with which she had nothing to do. + +They were holding each other's hands under the window from which Boswell +was, perhaps, at that very moment watching and waiting. + +"Oh! my Master Farwell!" The tears rolled from the glad eyes. "I did not +know how far and how sadly I had gone until this minute!" + +"But you have not forgotten to be little Priscilla Glenn. My dear! My +dear! how glad and thankful I am to see you. You have grown--yes; you +have grown into the woman I knew you would. Your eyes are--faithful; your +lips still smile. Oh! Priscilla, the world has not"--he paused and his +old, quivering laugh rang out cautiously--"the world has not--doshed +you!" + +And then Priscilla caught him by the arm. + +"You have not seen--him?" she looked upward. + +"No. I was getting up my courage. The bird just freed from its cage--is +timid." + +"Come! A minute will not matter. I must know about my home people." + +They walked on together. Then, because her heart was beating fast and the +tears lying near, she drew close to her deepest interest by a circuitous +way. + +"Tell me of--of Mrs. McAdam and Jerry McAlpin?" + +"Mrs. McAdam is famous and rich. The White Fish Lodge has a waiting list +every summer. The--the body of Sandy drifted into the Channel a month +after you left. Bounder found it. You remember how he used to know the +sound of Sandy's engine? The day the body was washed up he--seemed to +know. One grave is filled, and Mary McAdam has put a monument between the +two graves with the names of both boys. Jerry McAlpin has grown old +and--and respectable. He has a fancy that Jerry-Jo will come back a fine +gentleman. All these years he has been preparing for the prodigal. The +young devil has never sent a line to his father. A bad lot was Jerry-Jo." + +And then Priscilla told her story with many a catch in her voice. + +"You see--he did it for me, Master Farwell. He was not all bad. Who is, +I wonder? He lies in a quiet spot Mr. Boswell and I found far out in the +country. There's a hemlock nearby and a glimpse of water. I--I think I +will not let old Jerry know. While he waits, he is happy. While he is +getting ready, life will mean something to him. And oh! Master Farwell, +when--when Jerry-Jo went, he thought he was going through the Secret +Portage to the Big Bay. I believe he will--welcome his father in the open +some day. I will not send word back to the In-Place." + +Farwell frowned. + +"Boswell has touched you with his fanciful methods," he muttered; "is +it--for the best?" + +"I am sure it is. And--my--my people, Master Farwell, my mother?" + +At this Farwell started and stepped back. The light from an electric lamp +fell full on the girl's quivering, brilliant face. He had told Boswell of +the mother's death. + +"You--you did not know?" he asked. "She died----" + +"Died? Master Farwell, my mother dead!" + +"You see--how it hurts when Boswell plays with you?" + +A note of bitterness crept into the voice. + +"When the day of reckoning comes--it hurts, it hurts like--hell!" + +He had forgotten the girl, the white, frantic face. + +"Tell me, tell me when she, my poor mother, died?" + +The words brought him back sharply, and with wonderful tenderness he told +her. + +"Long Jean was with her. She would have her and no other, because she +said Jean had helped you into the world and only she should help her out. +It is a beautiful story they tell in Kenmore of your mother's passing. +She thought she was going to you. She seemed quite happy once she found +the way! + +"'I have found her!' she cried just at the last, 'and +she--understands!'" + +"And I did, I did!" sobbed Priscilla. + +A passerby noticed the sound and paused to look at the two sharply. + +"Come, come," Farwell implored her; "we will arouse suspicion. Let us get +back to--to Boswell. I haven't much time, you see. I have promised Pine +to be back in ten days. Ten days!" + +"You promised--Pine?" + +"And you never knew?" Farwell gave an ugly laugh. "Well, I carried the +ball and chain without a whimper, I can say that for myself. Pine is my +ball and chain. Because he isn't all devil, because he knows I am not, he +went off to play on Wyland Island. You know they kill the devil there the +second week in June. Have you forgotten? Well, Pine has gone to take a +stab at satan, and I'm free--for ten days. Free!" + +"And then?" + +"And then I'm going back voluntarily, and--assume the ball and chain!" + +"Master Farwell!" + +"Do not pity me! It doesn't matter now. I only wanted to--settle with +Boswell. I've been in town--three days." + +They were nearing the big apartment house; lights from the windows were +showing cheerily through the misty fog. A chill fear shook Priscilla as +she began to comprehend the meaning of Farwell's words. In her life +Boswell, and this man beside her, stood for friendship in its truest, +highest sense, and she felt that she must hold them together in spite of +everything. She stood still and gripped Farwell's arm. + +"You--you shall not go to him," she whispered, "until you tell me--how +you are to pay him--for what he has done!" + +Farwell's white, grim face confronted her. + +"How does one pay another for lying to him, cheating him, and--and +playing with him as though he were an idiot or a child?" + +"Why did he do it, Master Farwell, why did he do it?" + +"Because----" But for very shame Farwell hesitated. "It makes no +difference," he muttered. "I'm no fool and Boswell shall find it out." + +"He has told me--the story." Priscilla still stayed the straining figure. +"All his life he has given and given to you all that was in his power to +give. He is the noblest man I ever knew, the gentlest and kindest, and I +never knew a man could love another as he has loved you. What have you +given to him--really? The smiles and jokes of the days long ago that were +heavenly to him--what did they cost you? He gave, and gave his heart's +best; he lied and cheated you, that you might have--some sort of peace +in--in Kenmore. Oh! if you only knew how he has hated it all, how he has +struggled to keep up the play even when he was so weary that the soul of +him almost gave out! And now you come to--to pay him with hate and +revenge when you have the only thing he wants in all the world at your +command--to give him!" + +The impassioned words fell into silence; the uplifted face with its +shining eyes, mist-wet and indignant, aroused Farwell at last. + +"And that is?" he asked. + +"Yourself! your faith! See, that is his light. He is waiting--for me, +because, since you sent me to him, he has been kind, heavenly kind to me, +for your sake! Everything is, has always been, for your sake. Go to him, +Master Farwell--go alone. I will come by and by; not now. Pay him for all +he has done for you--all these lonely years!" + +Farwell no longer struggled. He took Priscilla's hands in a long, close +clasp. + +"What a woman you have become, Priscilla Glenn! Thank you." + +Without a word more they parted: Farwell to go to the reckoning; +Priscilla to walk in the mist for a bit longer. + +All that occurred in Boswell's library Priscilla was never to know. + +There had been a moment of shock when Boswell, raising his eyes to greet +Priscilla, saw Farwell Maxwell standing in the doorway. + +"You have come!" Boswell gasped, with every sacred thing at stake. + +"I--have come." + +"For--what--Max?" + +"To--to thank you, if I can. To--to tell you +my story." + + * * * * * + +In the outer room Toky artistically held the dinner back. The honourable +master and his strange but equally honourable friend must not be +disturbed. Something was happening; but after a time Boswell laughed as +Toky had never heard him laugh; so it was well, and the dinner could bide +its time. + +Then Priscilla came, wet and white-faced, but with the "shine-look" in +her eyes that Toky, despite his prejudices and profession, had noted and +respected. + +"We will have the dinner now, Mees?" as if Toky ever considered her to +that extent! + +"I will--see Mr. Boswell." + +"He has--honourable friend." + +"My friend, Toky. The honourable friend is mine, also! And, oh! the +flowers, Toky! There are no roses like the June roses. How wonderfully +you have arranged them! A rose should never be crowded." + +Toky grinned helplessly. + +"Tree hours I take to make--look beautifully. One hour for each--rosy. +That why it look beautifully." + +"Yes, that is why it looks--beautifully. Three hours and--you, Toky!" + +Boswell and Farwell were sitting in front of the grate, upon which the +wood lay ready to light. Their faces were pale and haggard, but their +eyes turned to Priscilla without shame or doubt. + +"There is much--to talk about," said Boswell with his ready friendliness; +"Max--your Farwell and mine--has told me----" + +"After dinner, dear friends. I am hungry, bitterly hungry and--cold!" + +"Cold?" + +"Yes; see, I am going to set the wood to burning. By the time we come +back the room will be ready for us." + +"To be sure!" Boswell sidled from his deep chair, the pinched look on his +face relaxing. + +"A fire, to be sure. Now, Max, no one but a woman would have thought of a +fire in June." + +"No one but Priscilla!" Farwell added. + +They talked before the fire until late that evening. Priscilla's plans +were discussed and considered. So full was she of excitement and joy that +she did not notice the shock of surprise that Farwell showed when the +names of Ledyard and Travers passed her lips. Seeing that she either did +not connect the men with her past, or had reasons for not referring to +it, Farwell held his peace. It was long afterward that he confided his +knowledge to Boswell, and that wise friend bade him keep his secret. + +"It's her life, and she's treading her Road," he said; "she has an odd +fancy that her Heart's Desire lies just ahead. I cannot see that either +you or I have the right to awaken her to realities while she lives so +magically in her dreams." + +After Priscilla's own plans were gone over and over again, Boswell said +quietly: + +"I'm going back to that blessed In-Place of yours, Butterfly. You +remember how I told you, the first day I met you, that I could not +understand any one choosing the dangerous Garden when he might have--the +Place Beyond the Winds?" + +Priscilla leaned forward, her breath coming sharply. + +"You mean--you are going to--to live in Kenmore?" + +"Yes! _Live!_ That is a bright way of putting it. Live! live! The Beetle +is--going to live!" + +Priscilla looked about at the rich comfort of the room, thought of what +it meant to the delicate cripple crouching toward the blaze, his deep +eyes flame-touched and wonderful. Then she looked at Master Farwell, +whose lips were trembling. + +"He--he calls that--living!" he said slowly. "Tell him, Priscilla, of the +bareness and hardness of the life. I have tried to, but he will not +listen." + +The tears, the ready, easy tears filled Priscilla's eyes, and her heart +throbbed until it hurt. + +"He will love the hemlocks and the deep red rocks," she said, as if +speaking to herself; "he will love the Channel and the little islands, he +will love the woods--and the wind does not blow hard there--he will be +glad of that." + +"But the ugly, wretched bareness of my hut, Priscilla! For heaven's sake, +make him see that!" + +"But the--fireplace, Master Farwell!" + +"And--the friend beside it!" Boswell broke in; "and no more loneliness. A +beetle that has crawled in the Garden so long will thank God for a real +place--of its own. 'Tis but a change of scene for the Property Man." + +"I love the Garden!" murmured Priscilla, sitting between the two men, +her clasped hands outstretched toward the fire, which was smouldering +ruddily. + +"That is because you have wings, Butterfly," Boswell whispered. + +"And no fetter on your soul," Farwell said so softly that only Boswell +heard. + +"I see," Priscilla childishly wandered on, "such a lovely trail leading, +leading--where?" + +"Where, indeed?" Boswell was watching her curiously. + +"That is the beauty of it! I cannot see beyond the next step. All my life +I have tried to keep my yearnings within bounds; now I--just follow. It's +very, very wonderful. Some day I am going back to the In-Place. I shall +find you both sitting by Master Farwell's beautiful fire, I am sure. It +will be the still morning time, I think, and you will be so glad to see +me, and I shall tell you--all about it!" + +"Heaven keep you!" + +Boswell's voice was solemn and deep. + +"Life will keep her safe," Farwell said with a laugh. "Life will take no +liberties with her. She got her bearings, Jack, before the winds knocked +her. Let us both walk home with her. What sort of a night is it?" + +Priscilla went to the window. + +"It's rather black," she returned; "as black as the big city ever is. The +mist is clearing; it's a beautiful night." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +"Of course," Priscilla leaned back in her deep-cushioned chair and +laughed from sheer delight, "I was a better girl in my former life +than I ever had any idea of, or I wouldn't have been given this----" + +She and Margaret Moffatt were sitting on the piazza of a little Swiss +inn. Below them lay a tiny lake as blue and as clear as a rare gem; round +about them towered snowy peaks, protectingly. All that was past--was +past! There did not seem to be any future; the present was sufficient. + +"I think you must have been rather a good child, back there," Margaret +Moffatt said, looking steadfastly at the girl near her; "and, anyway, you +ought to have a rich reward for your hair if for no other reason." + +"A recompense, you mean?" + +"Heavens! no! I was thinking, as I often do when I see the lights in your +hair, that for making people so cheerful and contented nothing is too +good for you. I'm extremely fond of you, Priscilla Glynn! It's only when +you put on your cap and apron manner that I recall--unpleasant things. +Just tuck them out of sight and let us forget everything but--this! +Isn't it divine?" + +"It's--yes, it is divine, Miss Moffatt." + +"Now then! Along with the cap and apron, please pack away Miss Moffatt +and Miss Glynn. Let us be Priscilla and Margaret. This is a whim of mine, +but I have a fancy for knowing what kind of _girls_ we are. No one can +tamper with us here. Dear old Mousey never gets above a dead level, or +below it. Practically we are alone and detached. Let us play--girls! +Nice, chummy girls. Do you know, I never had a friend in my life who +wasn't labelled and scheduled? I was sent to school where just such and +such girls were sent--girls proper for me to know. Often they were not, +but that was not considered so long as they wore their labels. It wasn't +deemed necessary for me, or my kind, to go to college: our lines of +action were chosen for us. Certain labelled men were presented; always +labels, labels! Even when I was running about with my label on I used to +have mad moments of longing to snatch all the hideous things off--my own +as well as others--and find out the truth! And here we are, you and I! I +do not want to know anything about you; I want to find out for myself, in +my own way. I want you to forget that I ever wore a tag. Did you ever +have a girl chum?" + +"I think I know, now," Priscilla said quietly, "why this particular +little heaven was given to me. I never, in all my life, had a girl +friend. Think of that! I did not realize what I was missing until I--came +into your life. Actually, I never had a girl or woman friend in the sense +you mean. I was a lonely, weird little child; and then I--I came to the +training school; and the girls there did not like me--I was still +weird----" + +"Now, Priscilla, I do not want to know anything more about you! I intend +to find you out for myself. Come, there's a boat down there, big enough +for you and me. Do you row?" + +"Yes, and paddle." + +"You lived near the water! Ha! ha!" + +"And you do--not row, Margaret?" + +"No." + +"Then you have never lived at all. You must learn to use oars and a +paddle. It's when you have your own hand on the power that makes you +go--that you live." + +Margaret Moffatt turned and looked at Priscilla. + +"You say, haphazard, the most Orphic things. There are times when I can +imagine you before some shrine making an offering and chanting all sorts +of uncanny rites. Of course it is when one has her hand on her own +tiller, and is heading for what she wants, that she begins to--live. I +declare, I haven't felt so young in--twenty years! I'm twenty-five, +Priscilla. My father considers me on the danger-line. Poor daddy!" + +"I'm----" + +"I do not want to know your age, Priscilla. Mythological characters are +ageless." + +Those were the days when Priscilla Glenn and Margaret Moffatt found their +youth. Safeguarded by the faithful old housekeeper, who, happily, could +understand and sympathize, they played the hours away like children. + +"We'll travel by and by," promised Margaret. "It's rather selfish for me +to hold you here when all the world would be fresh to you." + +"I take root easily," Priscilla returned, "and I'm like a plant we have +in my old home. My roots spread, and time is needed to strengthen them; +suddenly I shoot up and--flower. The little Canadian blossom doesn't seem +to justify the strong, spreading roots. I hope you will not find me +disappointing, Margaret." + +Margaret Moffatt smiled happily. + +"Just to think," she said, "that my real self and your real self +were waiting for us here behind the white hills! All along, through +generations and generations, they have been acquainted and have loved and +trusted each other, and then we, the unreal selves, came! Sometimes I +wonder"--Margaret looked dreamy--"what they think of us, just between +themselves? I am sure your true self must be prouder of you than mine can +be of me, for, with everything at my command, what am I? While you--oh, +Priscilla, how you have made everything tell!" + +But Priscilla shook her head. + +"Still," Margaret went on, "things were not at my command. They were all +there, but pigeon-holed and controlled. Such and such things were for +nice little girls like me! After a time I got to believe that, and it was +only when, one day, I touched something not intended for me that my soul +woke up. Priscilla, did you ever feel your soul?" + +"Yes." + +"Isn't it wonderful? It makes you see clearly your--your----" + +"Ideal?" suggested Priscilla. + +"Yes; the thing you want to be; the thing that seems best to _you_ +without the interpretation of others. It stands unclouded and holy; and +nothing else matters." + +"And you never forget--never!" + +"No. Your eyes may be blinded for a moment, but you do not forget--ever!" + +They were out on the gemlike lake now, and Priscilla was sternly +instructing Margaret how to handle an oar. + +"It will never go the way you want it to," Margaret protested, making an +ineffectual dab at the water. + +"When it does you will know the bliss! Get a little below the surface, +and have faith in yourself." + +And that was the day that Priscilla caught a new light on Margaret's +character. They landed at a tiny village across the lake and wandered +about, Margaret talking easily to the people in their own tongue, +Priscilla straining to follow by watching faces and gestures. While they +stood so, discussing the price of some corals, a little child came close +to them and slipped a deliciously dimpled, but very dirty little hand in +Margaret's. At the touch the girl started, turned first crimson and then +pale, and looked down. Suddenly her eyes deepened and glowed. + +"The darling!" she whispered, and bent to catch what the child was +saying. Presently she looked up, tears dimming her eyes, and said to +Priscilla, "She says a new baby came to their house last night. She +wanted to tell--me!" + +"And ten already have been there," broke in a brown-faced native woman. + +"But she is glad, and she wanted _me_ to know! Come, my sweet, tell me +more about the baby, and then we will go and see it." + +They sat down under a clump of trees, and the dirty little maid nestled +close to Margaret, while with uplifted head and unabashed confidence she +told of the mystery. + +Priscilla watched Margaret Moffatt's face. She was almost awed by the +change that had come over it. The aloofness and pride which often marked +it had disappeared as if by magic; the tenderness, passionate in its +intentness, cast upon the little child, moved her to wonder and +admiration. Later they went to the poor hovel and bent beside the humble +bed on which the mother and child lay. Then it was that Priscilla played +her part and made comfortable and grateful the overburdened creature, +worn and weak from suffering. + +"'Twas the good God who sent you," murmured she. + +"'Twas your little maid," smiled Margaret, tucking a roll of bills under +the hard, lumpy pillow. "Take time to love the babies--leave other +things--but love them and enjoy them." + +"Yes, my lady." + +On the way back in the boat Margaret was very silent for a time as she +watched Priscilla row; finally she said: + +"Did it surprise you--my show of feeling for the--the child?" + +"It was very beautiful. I did not know you cared so much for children, +and this one was so--dirty." + +"But so real! You see I have never had real children in my life. The +kinds passed out to nice girls like me were sad travesties. Since I saw +the darling of to-day I've been wondering--do not laugh, Priscilla--but +I've been wondering what poor, cheated little morsel of humanity, in the +unreal world, would find herself in that eleventh miracle of the wretched +hovel? And what an art yours is, dear Priscilla! How you soothed away the +suffering by your touch. I loved you better as I realized how that +training of yours knows neither high nor low when it seeks to heal." + +Priscilla thought of the operation on Margaret Moffatt's father, and her +quick colour rose. + +"And I loved you better when I saw how your humanity knows neither high +nor low--just love!" + +"Only toward little children. I cannot explain it, but when I touch the +babies, their littleness and helplessness make me weak and trembling +before--well, before the strength comes in a mighty wave. There is a +physical sensation, a thrill, that comes with the first contact, and when +they trust me, as that darling did this morning, I feel as if--God had +singled me out! Only lately have I begun to understand what this means +in me. It is one reason why I came away. I had to think it out. I +suppose"--she paused and looked steadily at Priscilla--"I suppose the +maternal has always been a master passion in me, and I've rebelled at +being an only child; at having no children but the--specialized kind. +I have been hungry for so many things I am realizing now." + +"In my training I have seen--what you mean. All sorts drift in--to pay +the price of love or the penalty of passion, as Doctor Ledyard used to +express it; but"--and Priscilla's eyes grew darker--"I used to find--a +nurse gets so much closer, you know, than a doctor can--I found that +sometimes it was the penalty of love and the price of passion. Those +sad young creatures, with only blind instinct to uphold them, were +so--divinely human, and paid so superbly. When it comes to the hour of +a life for a life, one thing alone matters, I am afraid, and it is the +thing _you_ mean, Margaret." + +"Yes. And what a horrible puzzle it all is. The thing I mean should be +always there--always. The world's wrong when it is not." + +Suddenly Priscilla, sending the light boat forward by the impulse of her +last stroke, said, as if it were quite in line with all that had gone +before: + +"There's Doctor Travers on the wharf!" + +He heard her, and called back: + +"Quite unintentionally, I assure you. I was waiting for the boat to take +me across. I've been wandering about, sleeping where I could. I simply +find myself--here!" + +At this both girls laughed merrily. + +"This is the place of Found Personalities," Margaret Moffatt said, +jumping lightly to the wharf. "Perhaps you'll come to the inn and have +luncheon with us--that is, if you are sure Doctor Ledyard did not send +you here to spy on me." + +"I haven't seen him since I left America. My mother is with me; she's in +a crack of the hills in Italy. She wanted to be alone. Doctor Ledyard +will join us later." + +"Then come to the house. They serve meals on a dangerously poised balcony +over the lake; we curb our appetites for fear our weight may be the one +thing the structure cannot stand. Our old housekeeper waits upon us, but +is in no wise responsible for the food which is often very bad and +lacking in nourishment." + +"You seem to thrive on it." Travers looked at the two before him. "I +wonder just what it is this air and place have done to you?" + +"Tell him, Priscilla." + +"Oh, like you, Doctor Travers, we simply found ourselves--here! That's +all." + +Travers did not leave the inn that night, nor for many days thereafter. + +"Doctor Ledyard will join my mother and me early in August," he +explained; "until then I'm a floating proposition. I wish you'd let me +stay on a while, Miss Moffatt, right here. I want to analyze the food, it +puzzles me. Why just this kind of conglomeration should achieve such +results is interesting. I've gained five pounds in six days." + +"And lost ten years," Margaret broke in. "I never thought of you as +young, Doctor Travers; professional men never do seem youthful; but +_here_ you're rather a good sort." + +And Travers remained, much to the delight of the old housekeeper, who, +with a nurse and a doctor in command, cast all responsibility aside. + +"Young Miss looks well," she confided to the proprietor's wife, who, +fortunately, could understand a word or so of English; "but folks is like +weather: the fairer they seem, the nearer a storm. When a day or a person +looks uncommonly fair--a weather breeder, says I, and generally, nine +times out of ten, I'm right. My young lady is too changed to be +comfortable. It's either a breaking up, or----" But here a shout for +"Mousey," silenced further prophecy. + +The days ran along without cloud or shadow. Quite naturally, perhaps, +Priscilla began to think that a drama of life was being enacted in the +quiet, detached village. They three were always together, always enjoying +the same things, but certainly no man, so she thought, could be with +Margaret Moffatt long without falling at her feet. Gradually to Priscilla +Glenn this girl stood for all that was fine and perfect. In her she saw +all women as women should be. With the adoration she was so ready to give +to that which appealed to her, Priscilla lavished the wealth of her +affection upon Margaret Moffatt. Surely it was because of Margaret that +Doctor Travers stayed on, and became the life of the party. To be sure he +was tact itself in making Priscilla feel at ease; but that only confirmed +her in her belief that he wanted to please Margaret to the uttermost. +Often Priscilla recalled, with keener appreciation, John Boswell's +description of Anton Farwell's conception of friendship. In like manner +Margaret Moffatt claimed for her companion all that justly belonged to +herself. Dispassionately, vicariously, Priscilla learned to know and +admire the man who undoubtedly in time would win her one friend. It was +all beautiful and natural, and in the lovely detachment it grew and grew. +The long walks and drives, the rows upon the lake by sunlight and +moonlight, all conspired to perfect the comradeship. They read together, +sang together--very poorly to be sure--and once, just to vary the charm, +they travelled to a nearby town and danced at a village fête. An odd +thing happened there. Owing to high spirits and a sense of +unconventionality, they entered into the sports with abandon. Travers +even begged a reel with a pretty Swiss maiden, and led her proudly away, +much to Margaret's and Priscilla's delight. Later, the men and women of +the place came forward, and, entering a little ring formed by admiring +friends, performed, separately, the native dances. + +Travers watched Priscilla with a puzzled look in his eyes. She trembled +with excitement; seemed hypnotized by the exhibition, much of which was +delightfully graceful and picturesque. Then, suddenly, to the surprise of +every one, she took advantage of a moment's pause and ran into the ring. + +"Whatever possesses her?" whispered Margaret to Travers; "she looks +bewitched. See! she is--dancing!" + +Travers watched the tall, slim figure in the thin white gown over +which a light scarf, of transparent crimson, floated as the evening +breeze and the girl's motions freed it. At first Priscilla took her steps +falteringly, her head bent as if trying to recall the measure and rhythm; +then with more confidence she swung into the lovely pose and action. With +uplifted eyes and smiling lips, seeming to see something hidden from +others, she bent and glided, curtesied and tripped, this way and that. + +The lookers-on were wild with delight. The beauty of the thing itself, +the willingness of the foreigners to join in the sport, aroused the +temperamental enthusiasm, and the clapping and cheering filled the hall +with noise. Suddenly the musicians dropped their instruments. They were +but human, and, since they could not keep in time with this new and +amazing dance, they drew near to admire. + +"Play!" pleaded Priscilla, past heeding the sensation she was creating. +"The best is yet to come!" + +Carried out of himself, entering now wholly into the adventure, Travers +caught up a violin near him and sent the bow over the strings with a +master touch. He hardly knew what he played; he was himself, carried away +on a wave of enchantment. + +"Ah!" + +The word escaped Priscilla like a cry of glad response. + +"Now!" + +They two, the musician and the dancer, seemed alone in the open space. +The flashing eyes, the cheering voices, the clapping hands, even Margaret +Moffatt, pale, puzzled, yet charmed, were obliterated. It was spring time +in the Place Beyond the Winds, and the dance of adoration was in full +swing, while the old tune, never out of time with the graceful, whirling +form, played on and on. And then--the ring melted away, the lights grew +dim, and Priscilla stood still. + +"I'm--I'm tired," faltered she. A hand was laid upon her arm, some one +guided her out of the heated, breathless room; they were alone, she and +he, under wide-spreading trees, and a particularly lovely star was +pulsing overhead. + +"You are crying!" Travers's voice was low and tense. "Why?" + +"It--it was the music! It was like something I had heard, and--and I was +so tired. I was very foolish. Can you, can Margaret, forgive me?" + +"Forgive you? Why, you were--I dare not tell you what you were! Here, sit +down. Do not tremble so! Tell me, where did you learn to dance as you +do?" + +Priscilla had dropped upon the rough rustic seat; she did not seem to +notice the hand that rested upon her clasped ones under the thin scarf. +She no longer cried, but the tears shone on her long lashes. + +"I--I never learned. It--it is I, myself. I thought I had grown into +something else, but--I shall always be the same--when I let myself go." + +"Let yourself go? Good heavens! Why not let yourself go--forever?" +Travers's voice shook. "You have brought joy and youth to us all--to me, +who never had youth. What--who are you?" he laughed boyishly. She sat +rigidly erect and turned her sad eyes upon him. + +"I'm Priscilla Glynn--a nurse! And you? Oh! you are Doctor Travers! Can +you not see my beautiful, happy, happy life is ended--must end? Margaret, +you, everything this joyous summer has made me--forget. Soon I am going +back--where there is no dancing!" + +"And--cease to be yourself?" + +"Yes. But I shall always remember. Not many have had the wonderful +glimpse I have had--not many." + +"I--I will not let you go back! You belong in the light; in love and the +giving of love. You have given me a glimpse of myself--as I should be. I +have stayed in this magic place without a past and a future--for your +sake! I see it now. I love----" + +"Oh! please, please stop. We are both mad, and when to-morrow comes and +the day after, and the day after that, we will both be sorry, and, oh! I +want all my life to--to--be glad because of this night." + +"You shall--remember it--all your life as--your happiest night, if I can +make it so!" + +His face was bent close to hers. For the first time Travers was +overpowered by the charm of woman, and all the pent passion and love of +his life broke bonds like a wild, primeval thing that education and +conventions had never touched. + +"I--I want you! I want you without knowing any more than if you and I had +been born anew in this wonderful life. Look at me! You believe I can +offer you--the one perfect gift a man should offer a woman?" + +She looked long and tenderly in his eyes. She was--going to leave him; +she could afford the truth. She was brave now. + +"Yes," she whispered. + +"And I know you to be--what I want. Isn't that enough? Can we not trust +each--for the rest?" + +"Yes, if the white hills could shut us forever from the other things." + +"Other things?" + +"Yes, the things of to-morrow. Duty, the demands that lie--over the +Alps." + +"I--renounce them all!" + +"But they will not renounce us!" + +Travers felt her slipping from him. A man whose youth has been denied, as +his had, is a puppet in Fate's hands when youth makes its claims. + +"I--mean to have you! Do you hear me? I mean to have you." + +And just then Margaret Moffatt drew near. Calmly, smilingly, she came +like one playing her part in a perfectly arranged drama. + +"You are here? Ready for home? Wasn't it sublime and exactly as it should +be? We are so nice and friendly with our real selves." + +There was no surprise; no suggestion of disapproval. The world in which +they were all playing could have only direct and simple processes. But, +having lived in a past world where her perceptions had been made keen and +vital, Margaret Moffatt understood what she saw. She had noticed every +letting down and abandonment of Travers since he had joined them. She was +too wise not to know the effect of such a woman as Priscilla upon such a +man; such a denied and almost puritanical man as Travers. She knew his +story from her father. An artistic triumph was hers that night. The +splendid elements of primitive justice had been set in motion, and almost +gleefully she wondered what they would do with Richard Travers and +Priscilla Glynn. + +For herself? Well, she had put herself to the test and had come out +clear-visioned and glad to a point of dangerous excitement. Only two or +three mighty things mattered, if one were to gain in the marvellous game. +She meant to hold to them and let the rest go! + +But Travers had not passed through Ledyard's school and come out +untouched. After leaving Priscilla, silent and white, he had gone to his +room and flung himself down upon a low couch by the window. Then his old +self took him in hand while he stubbornly resisted every attack that +reason, as trained by Ledyard, made upon him. + +"Think of--your mother! What has she not done and suffered that you might +stand before the world--a free man? And your profession; your future! +They are all your mother holds to for her peace and joy. And I? Well, I +do not claim anything for myself; but you know the game as well as I. If +you toss to the winds all that has been gained for you, professionally +and socially, you are done for! Your renunciation and restraint, what +have they amounted to, unless you accept them as stepping-stones and +go--on?" + +And then Travers clenched his hands and had his say. + +In that moment his own mother rose clear and radiant beside him and made +her appeal. She pleaded for justice, but she showed mercy. He must not +forget or forego anything that had been gained for him; but he was her +child, the child of her love--unasking, unfettered love--and the passion +that was throbbing in him was pure and instinctive; he must not deny it +or the rest would be shucks! Non-essentials must not hamper him. Alone, +unsought, a strange and compelling force had made him captive. All that +others, and himself, had achieved for him must make holy this simple but +all-powerful desire. + +Then she faded, that poor, little, half-forgotten mother! But she left, +like the fragrance of rare flowers that had been taken from the dim, +moon-lighted room, a memory of happiness and sweetness and content. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +By all the deductions of experience the three people in the little inn +should have, in the light of the morning after, been reduced to common +sense; but the day laughed common sense to scorn and fanned the fires of +the previous evening to bright flame. + +"I must write a letter," announced Margaret after breakfast, "a letter so +momentous that it will take me--an hour and a half! But my plans and +yours are all laid. Now, Priscilla, none of your cap and apron look. +You'll do exactly what I tell you to do; and you, too, Doctor Travers." + +"I haven't the slightest intention of disobeying. And as for my cap and +apron, I've burned them!" Priscilla tossed her head. + +Travers looked at her, and her loveliness seemed enhanced in her trim +white linen gown with its broad collar of Irish lace. How magnificent her +throat was! What a perfect woman she was! And _what_ hair! + +"There is a train that leaves here at nine-thirty, a mad little +ramshackle train that goes to The Ghost and back in an hour and a half. +We've all yearned to climb The Ghost, or as much of it as we dared. Now +you two, with Mousey and a servant, are to go on the nine-thirty. I'll +finish my destruction of the social system and catch the eleven o'clock +train. We'll have picnic lunch. They say there's a dreadful cavern at the +base of The Ghost that is corking for picnics, and then we'll explore +until we have to return. Any objections?" + +There were none. + +"Very well! It's nine now! Priscilla, wear the roughest, heaviest things +you've got. You always have your hours of remorse too late. The Ghost +will chill your blood." + +When the little party reached the small station at the mountain foot the +servants started at once to the cavern to build a fire and prepare for +the luncheon. + +"Let us walk a bit up the trail," suggested Travers. "I always feel +like the Englishman who said the views halfway up a mountain are more +enjoyable than those on top. At least, you have life enough left to enjoy +them. This particular trail is a mighty wicked one. There ought to be +guides, for safety. I know the way perfectly; my mother and I once stayed +here some years ago. She meant to come here this summer early, but has +decided to wait until Doctor Ledyard joins us. I feel as if I were taking +the cream off the thing. Will you trust me--Priscilla?" + +There was challenge and command in the use of her name. + +"Absolutely." + +"Come, then! I want you to go first. The rise is easy for a half-mile or +so. I can better watch out for you and catch you--if you make a misstep. +The stones are loose and mischievous; the path is ridiculously near the +edge of things. If one should--now do not get nervous, but if you should +go over, just clutch the bushes, the sturdy little clumps, and nothing +can really happen." + +"I never get nervous in high places. Being used to dead levels, I have +the courage of the ignorant. Doesn't the air make one----" + +"Heady?" + +"Yes. I suppose that is it. Heady and--light-hearted." + +Travers had his eyes fixed on the form ahead in its dark blue mountain +skirt and corduroy waist. + +"I wish you would take off your hat," he said. + +Priscilla obeyed. + +"Thank you! Will you let me--love you?" + +He noticed a tremor run the length of her body. + +"Is--that in my giving?" Priscilla meant to play just a little longer, +only a little, and then she must make him see that because this sudden +and great thing had come to them both, they must prove themselves worthy +of it by unselfish recognition of deep truths. + +"No. But I would like to have you say--yes! I meant all I said last +evening; you said nothing. I mean to have you, because I love you; +because I know you love me, and because nothing else matters. It's only +fair to warn you. You _do_ love me?" + +"Is it love--when everything else is swept aside?" + +"Yes." + +"All but the longing--for the best?" + +"Yes. That is love." + +"Then, I love you." + +"On ahead there is a tiny bluff, do not speak again until we reach it. A +strange and wonderful thing came to me there once--years ago. I want to +tell you about it, my beloved!" + +Travers watched her as he spoke. Again that tremor ran through Priscilla. + +It was nearly noon when they stopped, at Travers's word. They had come, +silently, up the trail, only their footsteps and their quicker breathing +breaking the awesome stillness. Their separate thoughts were bringing +them dangerously nearer together, trampling caution, warning, and purpose +beneath their young yearning for the vital meaning of life. When they +faced each other at last it was as if they had indeed been transfigured. + +"Mine!" whispered Travers, stretching out his hands. "You are mine! Do +not struggle." + +Priscilla put her hands in his, but did not speak. + +"And now let us sit here. I want you to understand. You will try to +understand?" + +"Yes." + +All her life Priscilla was to look back on that moment as the first +perfect one of her life. She felt no shame in taking it. It belonged to +her, and she meant to prove herself to him. + +"I feel as if there were a new heaven and a new earth, Priscilla, and +that you and I had just been created--the first man, the first woman. +Dear heart, rest your head, so, against my knee." He was sitting above +her. "Your hair holds all the glory of the sunlight, and how white and +warm your throat is!" His fingers touched it reverently. "Let us cling +to this one hour that has given us to each other. Are you happy?" + +"It means--something more than that--this moment----" Priscilla spoke as +if held by a dream. + +"You are--content?" + +"Yes. That is it. I am--content. I shall never ask for anything more, +anything better. I have everything--the world and--and God, has to give." + +"My darling! Now let me tell you. Years ago I came here after a hard +struggle for health. I had never had childhood or boyhood, in the real +sense; but I was well at last! I saw that I was going to have a man's +life, with all that that means, and for months the emotions and cravings, +that generally go to the years of making a child and boy, had been +crowding and pushing me to a sense of having been defrauded, and I meant +to have my turn at last: my joy and pleasure. It seemed just and right to +me that I should taste and revel in all that I had been deprived of. I +had even been deprived of the longing, had not even had the glory of +conquest. I had been such a meaningless creature, I thought I could +afford even to be selfish. I shrank from being _different_--I had been +forced to in the past--but I meant to make up for lost time and take my +place among my fellows. + +"One morning, just such a morning as this, I found myself alone--here! +Then I had it out with myself. More distinctly than anything had ever +come to me before I realized that life meant one thing, and one thing +only: the biggest fight or the meanest defeat! I knew that every passion +that burned and flayed me was a warhorse that, if controlled, would carry +me safely through the battle; if succumbed to, would trample me under its +relentless feet. This I knew with my brain, while tradition, inclination, +and longing called me--fool! Well, I was given strength to follow my +head; but every year has been a struggle. I found that to be different +meant contempt often, misunderstanding always. Sometimes it has not +seemed worth while; the victories were so lonely and useless; but I +thanked God last night, when I saw your face as you danced, that I could +offer you a love that need not make the pitiful plea for mercy from your +love. Through temptation and the long fight it has always seemed to me +that no man should ask for pure love without the equivalent to offer in +return. + +"Can you understand when I say that this battle of mine has brought me +closer to men and women, with no bitterness in my heart; has left me +free, not to despise them, but to help them?" + +"Yes, oh, yes; all my life I could understand those who--fight. I, too, +have fought and fought." + +Travers's hand was pressing upward the head against his knee so that he +could look in the uplifted eyes. + +"My love! as free man and woman, let us give ourselves to each other!" + +Then he bent and kissed the smiling mouth. + +"Speak to me, my--wife." + +"Yes! But let me think, dear heart. I must speak; the half has only been +told." She moved a bit away from him. Travers let her go with no fear. + +"Now, strange little thing, since you cannot speak in my arms, have your +will!" he whispered. + +"There is a to-morrow." The even voice had no strain of pain or sorrow in +it. "And we must not forget that. We have played and played until we have +made ourselves believe--such wonderful things; but to-morrow--we will +wake up and be what we have been made! I have heard, oh! so many people, +tell of your future, your honours. I have seen Doctor Ledyard's eyes upon +you; I know you have a mother who adores you. I do not know your world; I +could not touch your place but to mar it, and, because I love you so--oh! +so absolutely, and because I would want, and must have, glory in my own +love--we must stop playing! We have not"--and now the eyes dimmed--"we +have not played for keeps!" + +"You poor, little girl! How you use the old, foolish arguments, thinking +yourself--wise. Do you imagine I could let you dim the sacred thing that +has come to us--by such idle prating? There are only you and I and--the +future. You darling child, come here!" + +In reaching toward her, Travers's foot pressed too heavily against the +stone upon which she sat; it moved, slipped, and Priscilla escaped his +clutch. Not realizing her danger, she smiled up at him radiantly. She +meant what she had said, but youth could not relinquish its rights +without a struggle, and his eyes were so heavenly kind. + +"My God! Clutch the bushes, Priscilla!" + +"What--is the matter?" But with the question came the knowledge. She was +going down, down, and every effort he made to save her sent her farther +along the awful slope! She held to a nearby bush but uprooted it by the +force with which she gripped it. Faster, faster, with that terrified face +above her! + +"My precious one! Try again! Do not be afraid!" + +"No." + +And then they both heard the hoarse whistle of the little shuttle train +nearing The Ghost, with Margaret Moffatt on board! + +Travers realized the new danger. Very steep was the grade of the +mountain, and it ended on--the tracks! + +He shut his eyes; he could do no more. Every move he made imperilled the +woman he would give his life to save. The only comfort he knew was that +he, too, was losing, losing. They would be together at the last. + +Priscilla understood also. She looked up and saw him close his eyes; then +fear fled, as it does when the last hope takes it. It would soon be over +for them, and--nothing in all the world could separate them. There was +nothing but him and her! He had seen that; but now she saw it, too. Him +and her! him and her! + +"I--love you so!" she whispered. "I am not afraid. I'm sorry. I would +have given myself to you! I would indeed!" + +She wanted him to know. He opened his eyes and smiled a twisted, hideous +smile. + +"I--meant--to have you." The words came to her faintly. A nearer shriek +of the whistle, and a deafening clang of the bell! Some one at the +throttle of the engine had an inspiration and sent the crazy thing +shooting ahead. + +Then it was past, and upon the tracks over which the car had but just +gone lay Priscilla Glenn quite unconscious! + +Travers came to himself at once, and took her head on his knee where but +a short time ago it had lain so happily. + +"You, Priscilla!" It was Margaret Moffatt who spoke. The train had +stopped; the few passengers had come back to see what had happened. + +"Yes; my God! Yes! Miss Moffatt, will you see if she is dead? I dare not +trust--myself." + + * * * * * + +It was late that night, in Priscilla's room at the inn, that she and +Margaret had their talk. + +Priscilla lay upon her bed weak and bruised, but otherwise safe. Margaret +sat beside her, her hand in Priscilla's. + +"Doctor Travers has pulled himself together at last," she said. "I never +saw a strong man so shattered. And you, dear, you are sure you have told +me the truth--you are not suffering?" + +"No, only a little dazed. That's natural after looking death in the face +for hours and hours while everything slipped away from you--things you +had always thought meant something." + +"Yes, poor girl!" + +"And they--meant nothing. They never do." + +"No. You found that at death's door; I found it at life's. I want to tell +you something, dear, that will make you forget yourself--and think of me. +You are sure you cannot sleep?" + +"I do not want to sleep." + +"Priscilla, I have given myself to love! You can understand. Travers has +just told me--about him and you!" + +A faint colour touched the face on the pillow. + +"It was the telling that brought him around. He's superb, and you're a +daffy little goose, Cilla. Imagine a man like Travers letting a girl like +you slip through his fingers." + +"He did!" weakly interrupted Priscilla. + +"But he followed you right down, and into--hell!" + +"Into life and joy, you mean, Margaret--life!" + +"Well, at any rate, he was with you. It is magnificent to see a man, +or a woman, big enough, brave enough, and sensible enough to sweep the +senseless rubbish of life aside, and get each other! Oh! it's life as God +meant it. Priscilla, the letter I wrote to-day was to--_my_ man. He's as +splendid as yours. I told you once how I--I loved children. I had taken +that love for granted until something happened. A friend of mine +married--one of the girls my people thought was the kind for me to know. +She didn't understand life any more than I did; she just took one of the +men who wore the same label she did. Her child came--a year after; a +horrible little creature--diseased; dreadful--can you understand?" + +"Yes"--Priscilla had turned toward the girl by her side--"yes, I know +what you mean. I have been a nurse." + +"That was the first time things we should have known--were known by my +friend and me!" Margaret's voice was low and hard. + +"She--she cursed him, her husband--and left him! It was terrible! I was +frightened, more frightened than I had ever been. Everything seemed +tottering around me. I thought--I must die; I dared trust nothing. Just +then--some one told me--he loved me; and I--I had loved him. But I was +more afraid of him than of any one in God's world. I thought I was going +mad, and then--I went to Doctor Ledyard and told him all about it. I just +threw my whole burden of doubt and ignorance upon him--he is such a +_good_ man! Sometimes I weep when I think of him. He was father, friend, +and physician, all in one. He understood. He told me to go away; he got +you for me. He told me to play like a little girl, with only the real and +beautiful things of life; to forget the worries, and he would make sure! + +"Priscilla, he has made sure! My love is safe. I can give myself to my +love and let it have its way with me, and in the beautiful future, our +future, his and mine, little children cannot--curse us by their suffering +and deformity. + +"This _must_ be the heritage a woman should be able to give her children, +or she has no right to her own love. God has been so good to me--he has +not asked for sacrifice; but"--here she spoke fiercely--"I was ready to +sacrifice my love--for I had seen my friend's baby! + +"I had never known God before as I know him now. He came to me with love +and faith and my glorious life. Before, my God was a prayer-book God; a +dead thing that only rustled when we touched him; and now, oh! Cilla, he +is alive and breathing in good men and women, in little children, in all +the beautiful, real things. They did not bury my God, or yours, long ago; +they only set him free for us to find and love and follow." + +They clung to each other in a passion of reverence and happiness, and +then kissed each other good night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +"My girl," said Travers a week later, "how shall it be? May I tell every +one how madly happy I am? May I take you to that little shrine a mile up +the mountain yonder and make you--mine--and then show them all _why_ I +am so happy? Or----" + +"Yes. Or----" Priscilla lay quite contentedly in his arms, her eyes on +the shining outlines of The Ghost. + +"And that means, my sweet?" + +"That we should keep this blessed secret just a little longer--to +ourselves. I feel as if I could not bear to have it explained, defended, +or justified, and all that must follow, my very dear man, when the play +is over and we return to--to school. I shall be glad and ready to do all +this a little later on; proud to have you do it for me, and--we'll face +the music. It is going to be music, dear, I am sure of that. But some +very stern questions will be asked by that sweet mother of yours, and she +shall have her answer. Then Doctor Ledyard, with all the prayer gone from +his eyes, will call me up for judgment and demand to know what right a +nurse, even a white nurse, had to lay hands upon a young physician who +was on the road to glory! It will be hard to answer him; but never mind!" + +"And then, dear lady of mystery, what then?" + +"Why, then I'm going to beckon to you and we'll dance----" + +"Dance, my darling?" + +"Yes, dance away and away to a holy place I know, and then I'm going to +tell you the whole story of Priscilla----" + +But at that moment Margaret Moffatt came upon the scene. The miracle of +love had transfigured the girl. She looked, as Travers had said to +Priscilla, like the All Woman: large, fine, and noble, with unashamed +surrender in her splendid eyes. + +"And that is what she is!" Priscilla had replied, "the All Woman. I could +die for her, live for her, do anything for her. For me, she is the first, +the one woman, in all the world." + +"Young devotee, could you, would you, give your--love up for her?" +Travers had asked, and then Priscilla spoke words that Travers remembered +long afterward. + +"I could not give my love up for--that is--I, myself; just as the dance +is--just as my soul is--but I could; yes, I know I could give up--my +happiness for her, if by so doing I could spare her one shadow. Her +glorious nature could reach where mine never could." + +"Yours reaches to me, little girl." + +"But hers--oh! my dear man, hers reaches to--the world. If you knew her +as I know her!" + +But Margaret was whimsical and witchy as she came upon the two in the +small arbour by the lake. + +"Folks," she said, "let us keep our nice little surprises to ourselves +for a while, like miserly creatures. My dear old daddy-boy is fretting +and fussing about me, 'dreading the issue,' as he told Doctor Ledyard, +and behold--I'm going to do exactly what my daddykins desires! And you, +Doctor Richard Travers, you are wanted by your lady mother. Here's a +telegram. The girl in the office always tells what is in a telegram, to +spare shock. And Cilla, my shining-headed chum, you and I are going to +scamper about a bit before we go home. I'd be a miserable defaulter, +indeed, if I did not give you your share of this experience. Oh! I know +you've snatched bits that in no wise were included in the program, but +we're all grafters. I want to play fair. Will you flit over the continent +with me and Mousey, dear little--pal?" + +And three days later they began their trip, while Travers returned to +Helen. It was a charming trip the girls made, but their hearts were +elsewhere. + +In October they were in New York again, and the inevitable happened. +Margaret was returned to her world, and, for the moment, was absorbed. +Priscilla lost sight of her, though she heard constantly from her by +telephone or delicately worded notes. + +A sad occurrence kept Richard Travers abroad. Helen contracted fever and +for weeks lay between life and death. Doctor Ledyard waited until the +danger was past, and then left the two together in Paris, while Helen +recovered, with Travers to watch and care for her. + +The letters that came to Priscilla were all that kept her eyes shining +and her heart singing. + +"I shall go on as usual," she wrote to Richard. "When you come, then +we'll make the wonderful announcement. I see now that we have no right to +our secret alone; but with the ocean between us, it is best." + +During those months Priscilla learned to know Helen Travers through +Travers's letters. Woman-like, she read between the lines and caught a +glimpse of Helen's nobility and simple sweetness. Her loved ones were so +sacred to her that no personal demands could ever cause her to raise +objections. Once she was sure that they she worshipped wanted anything +for their true happiness, her energies were bent to that end. + +"And she will love you, my girl; will learn to depend upon you as I do. +As for Doctor Ledyard, when he is cornered, he is the best soul that ever +drew breath, and mother can bully him into anything." + +It was in February that Priscilla was called up by Doctor Hapgood, a man +of high repute. + +"Are you on duty?" + +"No, sir." + +"Any immediate engagement?" + +"None until March." + +"I would like to have you take a case of mine that requires tact as well +as efficiency. Can you take it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Report then at 60 West Eighty-first Street this afternoon, at four." + +Priscilla found herself promptly at four o'clock in the waiting-room of a +palatial bachelor apartment, and there Doctor Hapgood joined her. + +"Before we go upstairs," he said, drawing his chair close to Priscilla's +and lowering his voice, "I wish to say to you what, doubtless, there is +no real need of saying. I simply emphasize the necessity. The young man +who requires your services is Clyde Huntter. This means nothing to you, +but it does to many others. He is supposed to be in--Bermuda. You +understand?" + +"Yes, Doctor Hapgood." + +"The case is a particularly tragic one, such an one as you may encounter +later on in your career. It demands all your sympathy, encouragement, and +patience. Mr. Huntter is as fine a man, as upright a one, as I know, his +ideals and--and present life are above reproach. He is paying a bitter +debt for youthful and ignorant folly. I believed this impossible, but so +it is. I am thankful to say, however, that he has every reason to hope +that the future, after this, is secure. I have chosen you to care for +him, because I know your ability; have heard of your powers of reticence +and cheerfulness. I depend upon you absolutely." + +"Thank you, Doctor Hapgood." + +Priscilla's face had gone deadly white, but never having heard Huntter's +name before, she was impersonal in her feeling. + +"I will do my best." + +The days following were days of strain and torture to Priscilla. Her +patient was a man who appealed to her strongly, pathetically. There were +hours when his gloom and depression would almost drag her along to the +depths into which he sank; then again he would beg her to pardon him for +his brutal thoughtlessness. + +"Sit there, Miss Glynn," he said one day. "The sunshine is rather +niggardly, but when it rests on your hair--it lasts longer." + +"Oh, my poor hair!" + +"Poor? It looks like a gold mine." Then: "I wish you would read to me. +No; nothing recent or superficial. Something from the old, cast-iron +writers who knew how to use thumb screws and rack. There's something +wholesome in them; something you buck up against. They make you writhe +and groan, but they leave you with the thought that--you've lived through +something." + +Again, another day, after a bad night: + +"I think you'd better go into the next room, Miss Glynn, and take a nap. +I'd feel less brutally selfish if I could see your eyes calmer. Besides, +being shut away here from all I'm dying to have makes an idiot of me. If +you stay any longer, looking at me with those queer eyes of yours, I may +break down and tell you all about it, just for the dangerous joy of +easing my own soul by dumping a load on yours. Good God! Miss Glynn, +such women as you should not be nurses; it isn't fair. I'd give--let me +see--well, I'd give six months of my life--since Hapgood says I stand a +fair chance for ninety years--to talk to you, man to woman, and get your +point of view--about something. There are moments, after a bad night, +when I think you women haven't had all they say you should have had. We +men have been too blindly sure we could play your game as well as our +own. Run now! If you stay another minute I'll regret it, and so will +you." + +"Shall I shake your pillow before I go, Mr. Huntter?" + +"Yes. Thank you. You manage to shake more whim-whams out of the creases +than you know." + +He stayed her by a wistful, longing, and half-boyish smile. + +"Say," he said, "you see you didn't run quick enough, and now I'm going +to ask you something. You must have seen a good deal of women as well +as men in your calling." + +"Yes, I have." + +"Seen them with their masks off?" + +"Yes." + +"What does love count for in the big hours of life? Does it stand +everything, anything?" + +Priscilla felt her throat contract. She longed to say something that +would reach Huntter without arousing his suspicions. + +"No; love--at least, woman's love, doesn't stand everything--always." + +"What doesn't it stand? The essence, I mean." + +"It doesn't stand unfair play! Women understand fair play and for +it would die. They may not say much, but--they never forgive +being--tricked." + +"Oh! of course. How graphic you are, Miss Glynn. You sound as if we +were discussing a game of--of tennis or bridge. Gentlemen do not trick +ladies." He frowned a bit. + +"Don't they, Mr. Huntter?" + +"Certainly not! What I meant was this: You seem, for a trained woman, +very human and--and--well, what shall I say?--observing and rather +a--thoroughbred. If _you_ loved, now, loved really, is there anything you +would not forgive a man? That is, if his love for you was the biggest +thing in his life?" + +Priscilla stood quite still and looked at the pale, handsome face on the +pillow. + +"My love--yes; my love could and would forgive anything, if it related +only to--to--the man I loved and--me!" + +The frown deepened on Huntter's face; he turned uneasily. + +"After all," he muttered, "a man and woman see things so differently. +There is no use!" + +"I wonder--if things would not seem plainer if they saw them--together?" + +But Priscilla saw she had gone too far. The whimsical mood in Huntter had +passed. He was himself again, and she was his nurse--his nurse who knew +too much! More fretfully than he had ever spoken to her, he said: + +"I wish to be alone, Miss Glynn." + +Priscilla passed out, leaving the door between the rooms ajar, and lay +down upon the couch. + +To Doctor Hapgood she was a machine merely; an easy-running one, a +dependable one, but none the less a machine. To Huntter, shut away from +society, gregarious, friendly, and kindly, she had meant much more. Her +recent experience abroad, with all the exquisite touches of human +interest and uplift, had left her peculiarly sensitive to her present +environment. + +She liked the man in the room next her. There was much that was noble and +fine about him, but he was a type that had never entered her life before, +and often, by his kindliest word and gesture, drew her attention to a +yawning space between them. She was at her ease, perfectly so, when near +him, but she knew it was because of the distance that separated them. +Still, she was confronted by a certain grim fact, and that ugly knowledge +held him and her together. By some strange process of reason she wanted +him to live up to the best in him. There were two markedly different +sides of his nature; she trembled before one; before the other she gave +homage as she did to Travers, to John Boswell, and Master Farwell. + +The day before, Huntter had had a long talk with Doctor Hapgood while she +was off duty. That conversation had doubtlessly caused the bad night; she +wondered about it now. It had evidently upset Huntter a good deal. + +Then Priscilla, losing consciousness gradually, thought of Travers, of +Margaret Moffatt, who believed her to be out of the city. She smiled +happily as she relived her blessed memories of good men and women. They +justified and sanctified life, love, and happiness, and they made it +possible for her, poor, struggling, little white nurse as she was, with +all her professional knowledge, to trust and sympathize, and faithfully +serve. + +She must have slept deeply, for it took her a full moment to realize that +some one in the next room was talking and--saying things! + +"No, she's asleep, Huntter. She looks worn out. We must get a night +nurse. Well, I have only this to say: God knows I pity you, but my duty +compels me to say that--you should not marry! The chances are about even; +but--you shouldn't take the risk." + +A groan brought Priscilla to her feet, alert and quivering. Like a sudden +and blinding shock she understood, what seemed to her, a whole life +history. She stumbled to the door and faced Dr. Hapgood, hat in hand, +keen-eyed, but detached. + +"You slept--heavily?" + +"Yes, Doctor Hapgood." + +"I am going to send a night nurse to relieve you. When did you say your +next engagement began?" + +"March fifth." + +"Well, you will need a week to recuperate. Make your plans accordingly. +Do you understand?" + +"Yes." + +Did he suspect? Did he warn her? But his next words were kindness alone. + +"There should have been two nurses all along. One forgets your youth in +your efficiency. Good morning." + +When Priscilla stood beside Huntter again his wan face, close-shut eyes, +and grim mouth almost frightened her. + +"I want to sleep," he said briefly. "Draw down the shades." + +The night nurse became a staple joke between her and Huntter. + +"Lord!" he exclaimed one day as Priscilla entered; "you're like the +morning: clear, fresh, and hopeful. Do you know, that to escape the +nightmare that haunts my chamber after you go, I have to play sleep even +if I'm dying with thirst or blue devils? She's religious! Think of a +nurse with religion that she feels compelled to share with a sick man! +I'm going to get up to-day, Miss Glynn. I've bullied Hapgood into giving +permission, and I've done him one better. I'm going to have a visitor! +I'm back from Bermuda, you know. After you've fixed me up--isn't it a +glorious day?--open the windows, and--I've ordered a lot of flowers. +Put them in those brass bowls. My visitor is a lady. She likes yellow +roses. By the way, Miss Glynn, Doctor Hapgood tells me that you've been +in--Bermuda, too? Thorough old disciplinarian he! You must have been +lonely. And you leave me next week? I want to thank you. I shall thank +you ceremoniously every time you enter after this. You've been--a good +nurse and a--good friend. I couldn't say more, now could I?" + +"No, Mr. Huntter. And you've been--a very brave man! I know you will +always be that, and make light of it. I rather like the half-joking way +you do your kindest things. Here are the flowers! Oh, what beauties!" + +Priscilla turned from helping Huntter and began arranging the glorious +mass of roses in the brass bowls. + +"What time is it, Miss Glynn?" + +"Eleven o'clock." + +"And my friend is due at eleven-thirty. She will be here on the minute. +I feel like a boy, Miss Glynn. One gets the doldrums being alone and +convalescing. How the grim devils catch and hold you while they try to +distort life! I must have been a sad trial to you, but I'm myself again. +Tell me, honest true, Miss Glynn, just how have I come out in your +estimation? A man is no hero to his valet. What is he to his trained +nurse?" + +"You have been very patient and considerate." Priscilla's back was turned +to Huntter; her face was quivering. + +"Negative virtues! Had I been a brute you would have gone. I might have +had the night nurse for twenty-four hours. I dared not run the risk of +letting you go." + +"I've come out pretty well in _your_ estimation? That's a feather in my +nice, white cap," she said. + +"I wonder why I care what you think of me?" + +"I do not know, Mr. Huntter, except that we all care for the good opinion +of those who wish us well." + +"You wish me well?" + +"With all my heart." + +"I'd like"--Huntter turned his face toward the window and the glorious +winter day--"I'd like to be worthy of every well-wisher. I feel quite the +good boy this morning. I've been--well, I've been rather up against it, I +fear, and a trial to you, for all that you say to the contrary; but I am +going to make amends to you--and the world! Now, when my friend comes, +you won't mind if I ask you to leave us alone for a few moments? I can +call you when I need you." + +"Yes, Mr. Huntter." + +"The lady is--you may have guessed--my fiancée. I have important things +to say to her, and----" + +Priscilla's heart beat madly. She felt she was near a deeper tragedy than +any that had ever entered her life. And just then, as the clock struck +the half hour, came a tap on the door: + +"Come!" cried Huntter, in a tone of joy; "Come!" And in burst Margaret +Moffatt! + +She did not notice the rigid figure by the bowl of flowers; her radiant +face was fixed upon Huntter, and she ran toward him with outstretched +arms. + +"My beloved!" she whispered. "Oh! my dear, my dear! How ill you have +been! They did not tell me. I shall never forgive them. When did you +get back from Bermuda?" + +Priscilla slipped from the room and closed the door noiselessly behind +her, but not before she had seen Margaret Moffatt sink into Huntter's +arms; not before she heard the sigh of perfect content that escaped her. + +Alone in the anteroom, the hideous truth flayed Priscilla into suffering +and clear vision. + +"What shall I do?" she moaned, clasping her hands and swaying back and +forth. All the burden and responsibility of the world seemed cast upon +her. Then reason asserted itself. + +"He will tell her! He is telling her now! Killing her love--killing her! +Oh, my God!" + +Then she shrank from the thought that she would, in a few moments, have +to face her friend! How could she, when she remembered that holy night of +confession in the little Swiss village? Again she moaned, "Oh! my God!" +But she was spared that scene. Moments, though they seemed ages, passed, +and then Huntter called: + +"Miss Glynn!" + +She hardly recognized his voice. It was--triumphant, thrilling. It rang +boldly, commandingly. When she entered, Huntter was alone. Gone was the +guest; gone the mass of golden roses. Huntter turned a face glowing and +confident to her. + +"Just because you are you, Miss Glynn, and because I'm the happiest man +in New York, I want you to congratulate me. That was Miss Moffatt. She +and I are to marry--in the spring." + +"Did you--mention my name to her?" + +Priscilla's haggard face at last attracted the man. + +"No. I was inhumanly selfish. You must forgive me. I meant to tell her of +your faithful care; I meant to have you meet her. I forgot." + +"Never mention--me to her! She is my--one friend in all the world; my one +woman friend." + +They faced each other blankly, fiercely. Then: + +"Good Lord, Miss Glynn!" and Huntter--laughed! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +The week of recuperation Doctor Hapgood recommended was one of prolonged +torture to Priscilla Glenn. Thinking of it afterward, she realized that +it was the Gethsemane of her life--the hour when, forsaken by all, she +fought her bitter fight. + +The drift of the ages confronted her. Her own insignificance, her +humbleness, accentuated and betrayed her. Who would listen? How dared she +speak! Who would heed her? + +One, and one only. Margaret Moffatt! + +From her Priscilla shrank and hid until she could gain courage to go +and--by saving her, kill her! Yes, it meant that. The killing of the +beautiful All Woman, as Travers had called her. After the telling there +would be only the shadow of the splendid creature that God had meant to +be so happy, if only the wrong of the world had not come between! + +There were moments when, worn by struggle and wakeful nights, Priscilla +felt incapable of sane thought. + +Why should she interfere, she asked herself. Professional silence was her +only course. And--there was the chance--the chance! Against it stood, +pleading, Margaret's radiant love and Huntter's strength and devotion. + +Who could blame her if she--forgot? But oh! how they would curse her if +she spoke! They might not believe; they might ruin her! + +Then faith laid its commanding touch upon her spirit. It had been given +her to know a woman who, for high principles and all the sacred future, +was prepared to sacrifice her love if needs must be! + +They two, Margaret of the high-soul, and she, Priscilla Glenn of the +understanding devotion, seemed to stand apart and alone, each, in her +way, called upon to testify and act. + +"It must be done!" moaned Priscilla; "she must know and--decide! But how? +how?" + +John Boswell and Master Farwell were gone to the In-Place. The sanctuary +overlooking the river was closed. There was no one, no place, to which +Priscilla could go for comfort and advice, and her secret and her duty +left her no peace or rest. + +She had taken a tiny suite in a family hotel. The rooms had the comfort +needed for her physical wants, but she tossed on the bed nights and slept +brokenly. She ate poorly and grew very thin, very pale. She walked, days, +until her body cried out for mercy. She cancelled her engagement, for she +was unfitted for service, and intuitively she knew that, for her, a great +change was near. + +When she was weak from weariness and lonely to the verge of exhaustion, +she thought of Kenmore--not Travers--with positive yearning. The woman +of her, madly defending, or about to defend, woman, excluded even her own +love and her own man. It was sex against sex; the world's injustice +against all that woman held sacred! If Margaret were to be sacrificed, so +was she, for she blindly felt that Travers would not uphold her! How +could he when tradition held him captive? How could he when his oath +bound him like a slave? Doctor Hapgood had done his part, had spoken his +word--to man! But that was not enough. Man had flaunted it, was willing +to take--the chance without giving the woman intelligent choice. Oh! it +was cruel, it was unjust, and it must be defied. She and Margaret must +stand side by side, or life never again would taste sweet and pure! + +Priscilla had not heard from Travers in ten days, and this added to her +sense of desolation. Then, one evening, coming in from a long tramp in +the park, snow covered and bedraggled, she faced him in her own little +parlour! + +"My blessed child!" cried he, rushing toward her. "What have you been +doing to yourself?" + +She was in his arms; his hands were taking off her snow-wet coat and hat. +He was whispering to her his love and gladness while he placed her in a +chair and lighted the tiny gas log in the grate. + +"It's a wicked shame!" he said laughingly; "but it will have to do. Now +then, confess!" + +"Oh! I have longed so for you! I have been--mad!" + +Priscilla tried to smile, but collapsed miserably. + +"I don't believe you have eaten a morsel since----" Travers glared at her +ferociously. + +"Since I--I was in Switzerland." The sob aroused Travers to the girl's +condition. + +"You poor little tyke!" he said. "Now lean back and do as you're told. +I'm going to ring for food. Just plain, homely food. I'm as hungry as a +bear myself. I came to you from the vessel. I sent mother home in a cab. +I had to see you. We'll eat--play; and then, my precious one, we'll talk +business." + +"How I have wanted you! needed you!" Again the pitiful wail. + +"Now behave, child! When the waiter comes we must be as staid as Darby +and Joan. You poor little girl! Heavens! how big your eyes are, and how +frightened! Come in! Yes. This is the order; serve it here." + +The waiter took the order wrapped in a good-sized bill, and departed on +willing feet. + +"Your hair is about all that's familiar; longing for me couldn't take the +shine from that!" Travers kissed it. + +"I see my next case," he laughed. "To get you in shape will be quite an +achievement. We both need--play. We thrive on that." + +"Yes, my dear, my dear; but I have forgotten how!" + +"Nonsense! Here's the food. Put the table near the grate"--this to the +man--"things smoking hot; that's good. The wine, please. Thanks! Miss +Glynn, to your health!" + +How Travers managed it no one could tell, but his own unfettered joy +drove doubt and care from the little room. Priscilla, warmed and +comforted, laughed and responded, and the meal was a merry one. But it +was over at last, and the grim spectre stalked once more. Travers noticed +the haunted look in the eyes following his every movement, and took +warning. Something was seriously wrong, that was evident; but he had +boundless faith in his love and power to drive the cloud away. After the +room was cleared of dishes and the grateful waiter, Travers attacked the +shadow at once. + +He drew a stool to Priscilla's chair and flung his long body beside her. + +"Now," he said, with wonderful tenderness, "let me begin my life work at +once, my darling. You are troubled; I am here to bear it all--for you!" + +"Oh! Will you bear--half, dear heart?" + +"Yes, and that is better. We need not waste words, my tired little girl. +Out with the worst and then--you and I are going to--my mother!" + +"Your--mother?" + +"My mother! God bless her! You know she came near slipping away. She will +need and love you more than ever." + +"Oh! how good it sounds! Mother! Oh, my love, my love! I've had so little +and I've wanted so much! Your mother!" + +"She'll be yours, too, Priscilla. But hurry, child! Just the bare +structure; my love will fill in the rest." + +"Do not look up at me, dear man! So, let me rest my face on your head. +Can you hear me--if I whisper?" + +"Yes." + +"It's about Margaret--Margaret Moffatt." + +"The All Woman, the happiest creature, next to what you're going to be, +in all God's world?" + +"No!" + +"No? Priscilla, what do you mean?" + +"Do not move. Please do not look up. She is--engaged to--to Clyde +Huntter!" + +"Well?" + +"I did not know; she never mentioned his name. While we played, names did +not matter--his, mine, no one's." An hysterical gasp caused Travers to +start. + +"No, please keep your face turned. I must tell you in my way. I have just +taken care of--Mr. Huntter. He is not--fit to marry any woman--he cannot +marry--Margaret! Doctor Hapgood told him, but--he--means to marry! She +came to see him; she did not see me; she does not know; but she _must_ +know!" fiercely; "she must know! That is the one thing above all else +that would matter to her; she told me so! She does not live for the--the +now; she was made for--for bigger things!" + +"My God!" Travers was on his feet, and he dragged Priscilla with him. He +held her close by her wrists and searched her white, agonized face. Truth +and stern purpose were blazoned on it. She had never looked so beautiful, +so noble, or so--menacing. + +"You heard Doctor Hapgood say that?" + +"I did." + +"In your presence?" + +"No." Then she described the little scene graphically. + +"But Ledyard----" Then he paused. Ledyard's confidence must be sacred to +him. + +"And Huntter--Huntter knows that you know; does he know that you are +Margaret's friend?" + +"Yes." + +"And--he trusts you?" + +"He thinks I do not count, but I do--with Margaret." + +"Priscilla, this is no work for you, poor child!" + +"It is--hers--and mine, and God's!" determinedly. + +"Darling, you are overwrought. You must trust me. You know what I think +of such things; you can safely leave this to me. Ledyard is Huntter's +physician. Why he called Hapgood in, I do not know. I will go to Ledyard. +Can you not see--that they would not believe--you?" + +"Margaret will!" + +"But her father! You do not understand, my precious. You dear, little, +unworldly soul! Margaret Moffatt's marriage means a ninth wonder. Any +meddling with that would have to be sifted to the dregs. And when they +reached you, my own girl, they would grind you to atoms!" + +"Not--Margaret!" + +Priscilla drew herself away from the straining hands. She was quite calm +now and terribly earnest. + +"When all's told, it is Margaret and I--and God!" + +"No. There are others, and other things. All the world's forces are +against you." + +"No, they are not! They are turning with me. I feel them; I feel them. +I am not afraid." Then she took command, while Travers stood amazed. She +put her hands on his shoulders and held him so before the bar of her +crude, woman-judgment. + +"Answer me, my beloved! You believe--what I have told you?" + +"I do." + +"You know Doctor Hapgood will do no more?" + +"He--cannot." + +"If you go to Doctor Ledyard--and he knows and believes--what will he +do?" + +"He has been Huntter's physician for years. If he has been mistaken, he +will go to Huntter." + +"Go to--Huntter! And what then? Suppose Mr. Huntter--still takes the +chance?" + +"Ledyard will--he will forbid it!" + +"And what good will that do?" A pitiful bitterness crept into Priscilla's +voice; her lips quivered. + +"It is all Huntter! Huntter! All men! men! and there stands my +dear--alone! No one goes to her to let--_her_ choose; no one but me! +Don't you see what I mean? Oh! my love, my love! My good, good man, can +you leave her there in ignorance, all of you? Through the ages she has +not had her say--about the chance, and that is why----" + +Priscilla paused, choked by rising passion. + +"Little girl, listen! What do you mean?" Travers was genuinely alarmed +and anxious. + +"I mean"--the white, set face looked like an avenger's, not a +passionately loving woman's--"I mean--that because women have never had +an opportunity to know and to choose, you and I, and all people like us, +stand helpless with our own great heaven-sent love at peril!" + +"At peril! Oh, my dear girl!" + +"Yes, at peril. We do not know what to do, where to turn. You see the +great injustice clearly as I do; but you--all men have tried to right it +by themselves, in their way, while all women, through all the ages, have +stood aside and tried to think they were doing God's will when they +accepted--your best; your _half_ best! Now, oh! now something--I think it +is God calling loud to them--is waking them up. They know--you cannot do +this thing alone; it is their duty, too--they must help you, for, +oh!"--Priscilla leaned toward him with tear-blinded eyes and pleading +hands--"For the sake of the--the little children of the world. Oh! men +are fathers, good fathers, but they have forgotten the part mothers must +take! We women cannot leave it all to you. It is wicked, wicked for women +to try! There is something mightier than our love--we are learning that!" + +Travers took her in his arms. She was weeping miserably. His heart +yearned over her, for he feared she was feeling, as women sometimes did, +the awful weight of injustice men had unconsciously, often in deepest +love, laid upon them. + +"Priscilla, you trust me; trust my love?" + +"Yes." + +"You believe me when I say that I see this--as you do--but that we only +differ as to methods?" + +"I--I hope I see that and believe it." + +"Then"--and here Travers did his poor, blind part to lay another straw +upon the drift of burden--"leave this--to me. I know better than you do +the end of any such mad course as you, in your affection and sense of +wrong, might take. Little girl, let me try to show you. Suppose you went +to Margaret Moffatt. You know her proud, sensitive nature; her loyalty +and absolute frankness. After the shock and torture she would go to her +father with the truth--for she would believe you--and announce her +unwillingness--I am sure, even though her heart broke, she would do +this--to marry Huntter. Then the matter would lie among men; men with the +traditional viewpoint; men with much, much at stake. If Huntter has, as +you say, taken the chance, in his love for Margaret--and he does love +her, poor devil!--he will defend himself and his position." + +"How?" Priscilla was regaining her calm; she raised her head and faced +Travers from the circle of his arms. + +"He will--send Moffatt to--to--Hapgood." + +"And he--what will he do?" + +"What does the priest do when the secrets of the confessional are +attacked?" + +"Yes, yes--but then?" + +"Then--oh! my precious girl! Can you not see? You will come into focus. +You, my love, my wife, but, nevertheless, a woman! a trained nurse! +Hapgood would flay you alive, not because he has anything against you, +but professional honour and discipline would be at stake. Between such a +man as Hapgood and--Priscilla Glynn--oh! can you not see my dear, dear +girl?" + +"Yes, I begin to see. And--I see I dare not trust even you!" The hard +note in Priscilla's voice hurt Travers cruelly. "And--you, you and Doctor +Ledyard--how would you stand?" she asked faintly. + +Travers held her at arm's length, and his face turned ashen gray. + +"Besides being men, we, too, are physicians!" he said. "Brutal as this +sounds, it is truth!" + +The light burned dangerously in Priscilla's eyes. + +"When you are physicians--you are _not_ men!" she panted, and suddenly, +by a sharp stab of memory, Ledyard's words, back in the boyhood days at +Kenmore, stung Travers. They were like an echo in his brain. + +"You--you of all women, cannot say that and mean it, my darling!" he +cried, and tried to draw her to him. She resisted. + +"Our love, the one sacred thing of our very own," he pleaded, "is in +peril." He saw it now. "Can you not see? Even if it is woman against +woman, what right have you, Priscilla, to cloud and hurt our love?" + +"It is not--woman against woman--any more." The words came sweetly, +almost joyously; something like renunciation tinged them. "It is woman +_for_ woman until men will take us by the hands, trustingly, faithfully, +and work with us for what belongs equally to us both!" + +The radiance of the uplifted eyes frightened Travers. So might she look, +he thought, had she passed through death and come out victorious. + +"Now, just for a time," the tense, thrilling voice went on, "she and +I--women--must stand alone, and do our best as we see it. It is no good +leaving it to--to any man. I see that! And our love, yours and mine! Oh! +dear man of my heart, that can never die or be hurt. It is yours, mine! +God gave it. God will not take it away. God will not take Margaret's +either. She will understand, and, even alone, far, far from _her_ love, +she will be true, as I will be. That is what it means to us!" Then she +paused and smiled at Travers as across a widening chasm. + +"I--am going now!" + +"Going? My beloved--going--where?" + +"To Margaret." + +"You--dare not! You shall not! You are--mad!" + +"No. I am--going, because, as things are, I cannot--trust you, even you! +That is our penalty for the world's wrong. Long, long ago some one--oh! +it was back in the days when I did not know what life meant--some one +told me--never to let any one kill my ideal! No one ever has! It goes on +before, leading and beckoning. I must follow. I do not know where he is, +he who told me, but I know, as sure as I know that I shall always love +you, that he is following _his_ ideal, and living true and sure. Good +night." + +Unable to think or act, Travers saw Priscilla take up her still damp coat +and hat. Like a man in a nightmare he saw her turn a deadly white face +upon him, and then the door closed and he was alone in her little room! + +He looked about, dazed and emotionless. He felt _her_ in every touch +of the lonely place; her books, her little pictures, herself! Some women +are like that: they leave themselves in the presence of them they +love--forever! + +"Kill her ideal!" The words rang in the empty corners of his heart and +mind. "Somewhere he is following his ideal, and living true and sure!" + +Unconsciously, as men do in an hour of stress, Travers turned to action. +Presently he found himself setting the tiny room in order as one does +after a dear one has departed, or a spirit taken its flight. And while he +moved about his reason was slowly readjusting itself, and he felt +poignantly his impotency, his inability to use even his love for +dominance. Being a just and honest man, he could not deny what Priscilla +had said; truth rang in every sentence, chimed in with the minor notes of +his life. No thought of following or staying her entered his mind; she +had set about her business, woman's business, and, to the man's excited +fancy, he seemed to see her pressing forward to the doing of that to +which her soul called her. Then it was her beautiful shining hair he +remembered, and his passion cried out for its own. + +"This comes," he fiercely cried, setting his teeth hard, "of our leaving +them behind--our women! Through the ages their place has been beside us +as we fought every foe of the race. We set them aside in our folly, and +now"--he bowed his head upon his folded arms--"and now they are waking up +and demanding only what is theirs!" + +A specimen of the new man was Travers, but inheritance, and Ledyard's +teaching, had left their seal upon him. Bowed in Priscilla's little room +he tried to see his way, but for a time he reasoned with Ledyard's words +ringing in his ears. Had he not gone over this with his friend and +partner many a time? + +"Yes, I know the cursed evil, know its power and danger! Yes, it +threatens--the race, but it has its roots in the ages; it must be +tackled cautiously. If we take the stand you suggest"--for Travers had +put forth his violent, new opposition--"what will happen? The quacks and +money-making sharks will get the upper hand. Do you think men would come +to us if exposure faced them? It's the devil, my boy; but of the two +evils this, God knows, is the least. We must do what we can; work for +a scientific and moral redemption, but never play the game like +fools."--"But the women," Travers had put in feverishly, "the +women!"--"Spare me, boy! The women have clutched the heart of me--always. +The women and the--the babies. I've used them to flay many men into +remorse and better living. I am thinking of them, as God hears me, when I +take the course I do!" + +And so Travers suffered and groaned in the small, deserted room. + +Above and beyond Ledyard's reasoning stood two desolate figures. They +seemed to represent all women: his Priscilla and Margaret Moffatt! One, +the crude child of nature with her gleam undimmed, leading her forth +unhampered, though love and suffering blocked her way; the other, the +daughter of ages of refinement and culture, who had heard the call of the +future in her big woman-heart and could leave all else for the sake of +the crown she might never wear, but which, with God's help, she would +never defile. + +On, on, they two went before Travers's aching eyes. The way before them +was shining, or was it the light of Priscilla's hair? They were leaving +him, all men, in the dark! It was to seek the light, or----And then +Travers got up and left the room with bowed head, like one turning his +back upon the dead. + +He went to Ledyard at once, and found that cheerful gentleman awaiting +him. + +"At last!" he cried. "Helen telephoned at seven. She thought you were on +your way here. Did you get lost?" + +"Yes." + +"What's the matter, Dick? You look as if you had seen a ghost." + +"I have. An army of them." + +"Are you--ill?" + +"No." + +"Sit down, boy. Here, take a swallow of wine. You're used up. Now then!" + +"Doctor Ledyard, you were wrong--about Huntter! You remember what you +told me, before Margaret Moffatt announced her engagement?" + +"Yes." Ledyard poured himself a glass of wine and walked to his chair +across the room. + +"You were wrong; he is not what you think." + +"What do you mean? I haven't seen Huntter for--for a year or more. I took +care, sacred care, though, to--to trace him from the time he first came +to me, more than ten years ago. No straighter, more honourable man +breathes than he. He was one of the victims of ignorance and crooked +reasoning, but, thank God! he was spared the worst." + +"He was--not." + +"Dick, in God's name, what do you mean?" + +"Hapgood was called in. Huntter has not been in Bermuda; he has been +right here in New York, under Hapgood's care." + +"And Hapgood--told you?" + +A purplish flush dyed Ledyard's face. + +"No." + +"Who, then? No sidetracking, Dick. Who?" + +"The--the nurse." + +"She-devil! Fell in love with her patient? I've struck that kind----" + +"Stop!" + +Both men were on their feet and glaring at each other. + +"You are speaking of my future--wife!" + +Ledyard loosened his collar and--laughed! + +"You're mad!" he said faintly, "or a damned fool!" + +"I'm neither. I am engaged to marry Priscilla Glynn; have been since the +summer. I meant to tell you and mother to-night. I went to her from the +vessel. Priscilla Glynn took care of Huntter without knowing of his +connection in the Moffatt affair. Above all else in the world"--Travers's +voice shook--"she adores Margaret Moffatt, knows her intimately, and +wishes, blindly, to serve her as she understands her. There are such +women, you know, and they are becoming more numerous. She has gone +to--tell Margaret Moffatt." + +"Gone?" Ledyard reeled back a step. "And you permitted that?" + +"I had no choice. You do not know--my--my--well, Miss Glynn." + +"Not know her? The young fiend! Not know her? I remember her well. I +might have known that no good could come from her. But--we can crush her, +the young idiot! I do not envy you your fiancée, Dick." + +The telephone rang sharply and Ledyard took up the receiver with +trembling hand. + +"It's your mother," he said; "you had better speak for yourself." + +"So you are there, Dick?" + +"Yes, mother." + +"There was a message just now. Such a peculiar one. I thought you had +better have it at once. It was only this: 'She knows' and a 'good-bye.'" + +"Thanks, mother. I understand." + +Ledyard watched the unflinching face and noted the even voice. He was so +near he had caught Helen's words. + +"And that is all, mother?" + +"All, dear." + +"I'll be home soon. Good night." + +Then he looked up at Ledyard, and the older man's face softened. + +"You'll find this sort of thing is a devil of a jigsaw. It cuts in all +directions," he said, laying his hand on Travers's shoulder. + +"Yes, doesn't it? But, Doctor Ledyard, I want to tell you something. +She's right--that girl of mine, and Margaret Moffatt, too--and you know +it as well as I do! If I can, I'm going to have my love and my woman; but +even if I go empty hearted to my grave I shall know--they are right! +Besides being women, and our loves, they are human beings, and they are +beginning to find it out. The way may lead through hell, but it ends +in----" + +"What?" Ledyard breathed; his eyes fixed on the stern young face. + +"In understanding. It leads to the responsibility all women must take. +Good night, old friend." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Priscilla had gone straight from Margaret Moffatt's to her own little +apartment. She had no sense of suffering; no sensation at all. She must +pack and get away! And like a dead thing she set to work, although it was +midnight and she had been so weary before; and then she smiled +quiveringly: + +"Before!" + +She stood and stretched out her arms to the empty space where Travers had +been. + +"Oh! my dear, dear man!" she moaned. "My beloved!" + +She had set the spark to the powder; by to-morrow the devastation would +be complete. That, she knew full well. And he--the man she loved above +all else in life--in order to escape must seek safety with those others! +All those others--men! men! men! Only she and Margaret, suffering and +alone, would stand in the ruins. But from those ruins! Her eyes shone as +with a vision of what must be. + +"I wish I could tell you--all about it!" the weak, human need called to +the absent love. The whispered words brought comfort; even his memory was +a stronghold. It always would be, even when she was far away in her +In-Place, never to see him again. + +How thankful she was that he did not know, really. He could not follow; +she would not be able to hurt him--after to-morrow. Her changed name +had saved her! + +"Priscilla Glynn," she faltered, "hide her, hide her forever, hide poor +Priscilla Glenn." + +Then her thoughts flew back to the recent past. She had found Margaret +alone in her own library. + +"Now how did you know I wanted you more than any one else in the world?" +Margaret had said. "When did you get back? You baddest of the bad! Why +did you hide from me? Where were you?" + +"In--Bermuda." How ghastly it sounded, but it caught Margaret's quick +thought. + +"Sit down, you little ghost of bygone days of bliss. You'll have to play +again. Work is killing you. In Bermuda? What doing?" + +"Wearing--my cap and apron, dear, dear----" + +"Your cap and apron? I thought you burned them! I shall tell Travers, you +deceitful, money-getting little fraud! Well, who has taken it out of you +so? You are as white as ivory. Do you know the Traverses came in on the +_St. Cloud_ to-day?" + +"Yes. Doctor Travers came to see me." + +"Ha! ha! He doesn't seem to have cheered you much. I wager he's told you +what he thinks of you, tossing to the winds all the beautiful health and +spirits of the summer! When are you to be married? I must tell him to +bully you as--as my dear love is bullying me! Has Doctor Ledyard growled +at you? I can twist him easily! He is a darling, and just wears that face +and voice for fun in order to scare little redheaded nurses. Cilla, dear +heart, I'm going to be married in June! Dear, old-fashioned June, with +roses and good luck and--oh! the heaven seems opening and the glory is +pouring down! There, girlie! cuddle here! I'm going to tell you +everything; even to the mentioning of names! I've always hated to label +my joy before. But, first, take some chocolate; it's hot and piping. Now! +Who did you nurse in Bermuda? I'm going to tell him, or her, what I think +of him!" + +"I--nursed--Mr. Clyde Huntter. We were in New York all the time. That is +why--I had to keep--still----" + +"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" Margaret set the cup she held, down sharply. The +quick brain was alert and in action. + +"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" And then Margaret Moffatt came close to Priscilla, +and looked down deep into the unfaltering eyes raised to hers. + +"Mr. Clyde Huntter--is the man I am to marry!" she said in a voice from +which the girlish banter had gone forever. It was the voice of a woman in +arms to defend all she worshipped. + +"Yes, I know. I was in his room the day you called. I thought I should +die. I hoped he would tell you. I was ready to stand beside you; but he +did not tell!" + +"Tell--what? As God hears you, Priscilla, as you love me, and--and as I +trust you, tell me what?" + +And then Priscilla had told her. At first Margaret stood, taking the +deadly blow like a Spartan woman, her grave eyes fixed upon Priscilla. +Slowly the cruel truth, and all it implied, found its way through the +armour of her nobility and faith. She began to droop; then, like one +whose strength has departed, she dropped beside Priscilla's chair and +clung to her. It had not taken long to tell, but it had lain low every +beautiful thing but--courage! + +"Back there," Margaret had said at last, "back there where we played, I +told you I was ready for sacrifice. I thought my God was not going to +exact that, but since he has, I am ready. Priscilla, I still have God! I +wonder"--and, oh! how the weak, pain-filled voice had wrung Priscilla's +heart--"I wonder if you can understand when I tell you that I love my +love better now--than ever? Shall always love him, my poor boy! Can you +not see that he did not mean--to be evil? It was the curse handed down to +him, and when he found out--his love, our love, had taken possession of +him, and he could not let me--go! I feel as if--as if I were his mother! +He cannot have the thing he would die for, but I shall love him to the +end of life. I shall try to make it up to him--in some way; help him to +be willing and brave, to do the right; teach him that my way is the +only--honourable way. I am sure both he and I will be--glad not--not to +let others, oh! such sad, little others, pay the debt for us. Our day +is--is short at best, but the--the eternity! And you, dear, faithful +Cilla! You, with your blessed love, how will it be when I have done what +I must do? I must go to--to father and tell the truth, and then----" + +"I know," Priscilla had said. "Doctor Travers told me what would follow. +I shall not be here for him to suffer for; I am going----" + +"Where, my precious friend?" + +"To--the Place Beyond the Winds! You do not understand. You cannot; no +one can follow me; but I cannot bear the hurting blasts any more. I want +the In-Place." + +Then it was over, and now she was back in her lonely rooms. She packed +her few, dear possessions, and toward morning lay down upon her bed. At +daylight she departed, after settling her affairs with the night clerk +and leaving no directions that any one could follow. + +"It is business," she had cautioned, and the sleepy fellow nodded his +head. + +The rest did not matter. She would travel to the port from which the +boats sailed to Kenmore. Any boat would do; any time. Some morning, +perhaps, at four o'clock, if the passage had not been too rough, she +would find herself on the shabby little wharf with the pink morning light +about her, and the red-rock road stretching on before. + +Then Priscilla, like a miser, gripped her purse. Never before had money +held any power over her, but the hundreds she had saved were precious to +her now. Her father's doors were still, undoubtedly, closed to her. She +could not be a burden to the two men living in Master Farwell's small +home. There was, to be sure, Mary McAdam! By and by, perhaps, when the +hurt was less and she could trust herself more, she would go to the White +Fish Lodge and beg for employment; but until then---- + +The morning Priscilla departed, Ledyard, unequal to any further strain, +was called upon to bear several. By his plate, at the breakfast table, +lay a scrawled envelope that he recognized at once as a report from +Tough Pine. + +"What's up now?" muttered he. "This thing isn't due for--three weeks +yet." + +Then he read, laboriously, the crooked lines: + + I give up job. Dirty work. Money--bad money. I take no more--or I be + damned! He better man--than you was; you bad and evil, for fun--he grow + big and white. No work for bad man--friend now to good mens. + + Pine. + +"The devil!" muttered Ledyard; but oddly enough the letter raised, rather +than lowered, his mental temperature. Those ill-looking epistles of +Pine's had nauseated him lately. He had begun to experience the sensation +of over-indulgence. Some one had told him, a time back, of Boswell's +leaving the city, and he had been glad of the suspicion that arose in him +when he heard it. + +Later in the day the forces Priscilla had set in motion touched and drew +him into the maelstrom. + +"Ledyard"--this over the telephone--"my daughter has just informed me +that she is about to break her engagement. May I see you at--three?" + +"Yes. Here, or at your office?" + +"I will come to you." + +They had it out, man to man, and with all the time-honoured and hoary +arguments. + +"My girl's a fool!" Moffatt panted, red-faced and eloquent. "Not to +mention what this really means to all of us, there is the girl's own +happiness at stake. What are we to tell the world? You cannot go about +and--explain! Good Lord! Ledyard, Huntter stands so high in public esteem +that to start such a story as this about him would be to ruin my own +reputation." + +"No. The thing's got to die," Ledyard mused. "Die at its birth." + +"Die in my girl's heart! Good God! Ledyard, you ought to see her after +the one night! It wrings my heart. It isn't as if the slander had killed +her love for him. It hasn't; it has strengthened it. 'I must bear this +for him and for me,' she said, looking at me with her mother's eyes. She +never looked like her mother before. It's broken me up. What's the world +coming to, when women get the bit in their teeth?" + +"There are times when all women look alike," Ledyard spoke half to +himself; "I've noticed that." The rest of Moffatt's sentence he ignored. + +"Why, in the name of all that is good," Moffatt blazed away, "did you +send that redheaded girl into our lives? I might have known from the hour +she set her will against mine that she was no good omen. Things I haven't +crushed, Ledyard, have always ended by giving me a blow, sooner or later. +Think of her coming into my home last night and daring----" The words +ended in a gulp. "Let me send Margaret to you," pleaded the father at his +wits' end. "Huntter is away. Will not be back until to-morrow. Perhaps +you can move her. You brought her into the world; you ought to try and +keep her here." + +At four Margaret entered Ledyard's office. She was very white, very +self-possessed, but gently smiling. + +"Dear old friend," she said, drawing near him and taking the rôle of +comforter at once. "Do not think I blame you. I know you did your best +with your blessed, nigh-to glasses on, but we younger folks have long +vision, you know. Do you remember how you once told me to swallow your +pills without biting them? I obeyed you for a long, long time; but I've +bitten this one! It's bitter, but it is for the best. The medicine is in +the pills; we might as well know." + +"See here, Margaret, I'm not going to use your father's weapons. I only +ask you--to wait! Do not break your engagement; let me see Huntter. Do +not speak to him of this. I can explain, and--" he paused--"if the worse +comes to the worst, the wedding can be postponed; then things can happen +gradually." + +"No," Margaret shook her head. "This is his affair and mine, and our love +lies between us. I want--oh! I want to make him feel as I do, if I can; +but above all else he must know that whatever I do is done in love. You +see, I cannot hate him now; by and by it would be different if we were +not just to each other." + +"My poor girl! Do you women think you are going to be happier, the world +better, because of--things like this? Men have thought it out!" + +"Alone, yes. And women have let you bear the burden--alone. Happiness +is--not all. And who can tell what the world will be when we all do the +work God sent us to do? I know this: we cannot push our responsibilities +off on any one else without stumbling across them sooner or later, for +the overburdened ones cannot carry too much, or forever!" + +Ledyard expected Travers for dinner, but, as the time drew near, he felt +that his young partner would not come. At six a note was handed to him: + + Kindest of Friends: + + To-morrow, or soon, I will come to you; not to-night. I have to be + alone. I am all in confusion. I can see only step by step, and must + follow as I may. Two or three things stand out clear. We haven't, we + men, played the game fair, though God knows we meant to. They--she + and such women as my girl--are right! Blindly, fumblingly right. They + are seeking to square themselves, and we have no business to curse them + for their efforts. + + Lastly, I love Priscilla Glynn, and mean to have her, even at the + expense of my profession! You have set my feet on a broad path and + promised an honourable position. I have always felt that to try and + follow in your steps was the noblest ambition I had. I know now that I + could not accomplish this. You have truth and conviction to guide and + uphold you. I have doubt. I must work among my fellows with no hint of + distrust as to my own position. Forgive me! Go, if you will, to my + mother--to Helen. She will need you--after she knows. You will, + perhaps, understand when I tell you that, for a time at least, I must + be by myself, and I am going to the little town where my own mother and + I, long ago, lived our strange life together. She seems to be there, + waiting for me. + +Ledyard ate no dinner that night; he seemed broken and ill; he pushed +dish after dish aside, and finally left the table and the house. + +Everything had failed him. All his life's work and hopes rustled past him +like dead things as he walked the empty streets. + +"Truth and conviction," he muttered. "Who has them? The young ass! What +is truth? How can one be convinced? It's all bluff and a doing of one's +best!" + +And then he reached Helen Travers's house and found her waiting for him. + +"I have a--a note from Dick," she said. Ledyard saw that she had been +crying. + +"Poor boy! He has gone to--his mother; his real mother. We"--she caught +her breath--"we have, somehow, failed him. He is in trouble." + +"I wonder--why?" Ledyard murmured. Never had his voice held that tone +before. It startled even the sad woman. + +"We have tried to do right--have loved him so," she faltered. + +"Perhaps we have been too sure of ourselves, our traditions. Each +generation has its own ideals. We're only stepping-stones, but we like +to believe we're the--end-all!" + +"That may be." + +Then they sat with bowed heads in silence, until Ledyard spoke again. + +"I'm going to retire, Helen. Without him, work would be--impossible. +His empty place would be a silent condemnation, a constant reminder, +of--mistakes." + +"If he leaves me, I shall close this house. I could not live--without him +here. I never envied his mother before. I have pitied, condoned her, but +to-night I envy her from my soul!" + +"Helen"--and here Ledyard got up and walked the length of the room +restlessly; he was about to put his last hope to the test--"Helen, this +world is--too new for us; for you and me. We belong back where the light +is not so strong and things go slower! We get--blinded and breathless and +confused. I have nothing left, nor have you. Will you come with me to +that crack in the Alps, as Dick used to call it, and let me--love you?" + +"Oh! John Ledyard! What a man you are!" + +"Exactly! _What_ a man I am! A poor, rough fool, always loving what was +best; never daring to risk anything for it. I'm tired to death----" + +She was beside him, kneeling, with her snow-touched head upon his knee. + +"So am I. Tired, tired! I could not do without you. I have leaned on you +far too long; we all have. Now, dear, lean on me for the rest of the +way." + +He bent his grizzled head upon hers and his eyes had the look of prayer +that Priscilla once discovered. + +"Dick--has not told me his real trouble," Helen faintly said. "I know it +is somehow connected with a--nurse." + +"The redheaded one," Ledyard put in; "a regular little marplot!" Then he +gave that gruff laugh of his that Helen knew to be a signal of surrender. + +"It's odd," he went on, "how one can admire and respect when often he +disapproves. I disapprove of this--redheaded girl, but, if it will +comfort you any, my child, I will tell you this: Dick's future, in her +hands, would be founded on--on everlasting rock!" + +"Perhaps--she won't have him!" + +"Helen"--and Ledyard caught her to him--"you never would have said that +if you had been Dick's mother!" + +"Perhaps--not!" + +"No. You and I have only played second fiddles, first and last; but +second fiddles come in handy!" + +The room grew dim and shadowy, and the two in the western window clung +together. + +"Have you heard--John, that Margaret Moffatt has broken her engagement to +Clyde Huntter?" + +"Yes. Where did you hear it?" + +"She came--to see me; wanted to know how I was. She was very beautiful +and dear. She talked a good deal about that--that----" + +"Redheaded nurse?" asked Ledyard. + +"Yes. I couldn't quite see any connecting link then, but you know Dick +did go to that Swiss village last summer. I fear the party wasn't +properly chaperoned, for 'twas there he met--the nurse!" + +"It--was!" grunted Ledyard. + +"There is something sadly wrong with this broken engagement of +Margaret's, but I imagine no one will ever know. Girls are so--so +different from what they used to be." + +"Yes," but a tone of doubt was in Ledyard's voice. Presently he said: +"Since Dick has left, or may leave, the profession, I suppose he'll take +to writing. He's always told me that when he could afford to, he'd like +to cut the traces and wollop the race with his pen. Many doctors would +like to do that. A gag and a chain and ball are not what they're cracked +up to be. The pen is mightier than the pill, sometimes, but it often +eliminates the butter from the bread." + +Helen caught at the only part of this speech that she understood. + +"There's the little income I'm living on," she said; "it's Dick's +father's. I wish--you'd let me give it to him--now. I am old-fashioned +enough to want to live on my husband's money." + +"Exactly!" Ledyard drew her closer; "quite the proper feeling. It can be +easily arranged." + +And while they sat in the gathering gloom, Travers was wending his way up +a village street, and wondering that he found things so little changed. + +While his heart grew heavier, his steps hastened, and he felt like a +small boy again--a boy afraid of the dark, afraid of the mystery of +night--alone! The boy of the past had always known a heavy heart, too, +and that added reality to the touch. + +There stood the old cottage with a sign "To Let" swinging from the porch. +Had no one lived there since they, he and the pretty creature he called +mother, had gone away? + +There had been workmen in the house, evidently. They had carelessly left +the outer door open and a box of tools in the living-room. Travers went +in and sat down upon the chest, closed his eyes, and gave himself up to +his sad mood. Clearly he seemed to hear the low, sweet voice: + +"Little son, is that you?" Yes, it was surely he! "Come home to--to +mother? Tired, dear?" Indeed he was tired--tired to the verge of +exhaustion. "Suppose--suppose we have a story? Come, little son! It shall +be a story of a fine, golden-haired princess who loves and loves, but--is +very, very wise. And you are to be the prince who is wise, too. If you +are not both very wise there will be trouble; and of course princesses +and princes do not have trouble." The old, foolish memory ran on with its +deeper truth breaking in upon the heart and soul of the man in the +haunted room. + +Then Travers spoke aloud: + +"Mother, I will make no mistake if I can help it, and as God hears me, +I will not cheat love. As far as lies in me, I will play fair for her +sake--and yours!" + +When he uncovered his eyes he almost expected to see a creaky little +rocker and a sleepy boy resting on the breast of a woman so beautiful +that it was no wonder many had loved her. + +"Poor, little, long-ago mother!" + +Then he thought of Helen and her strong purpose in life, her devotion and +sacrifice. + +"I must go to her!" he cried resolutely. "I owe her--much, much!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +The pines and the hemlocks stood out sharply against a pink, throbbing +sky in which the stars still shone faintly but brilliantly. It was five +o'clock of a dim morning, and no one was astir in the In-Place as the +little steamer indolently turned from the Big Bay into the Channel and +headed for the wharf. + +Not a breath of air seemed stirring, and the stillness was unbroken +except by the panting of the engines. + +Priscilla Glenn stood near the gangway of the boat. Now that she had left +all her beautiful love and life, she was eager to hide, like a hurt and +bruised thing, in the old, familiar home. Leaning her poor, tired head +against the post near her, she thought of the desolate wreck behind, and +the tears came to the deep, true eyes. + +"I could have done--nothing else!" she murmured, as if to comfort the sad +thing she was. "It had to be! Margaret knew that; she understood. By now +she is as bereft as I; poor, dear love! Oh! it seems, just sometimes it +seems, like an army of men on one side and all of us women on the other. +Between us lies the great battlefield, and they, the men, are trying to +fight alone--fight our battle as well as theirs. And--they cannot! they +cannot!" + +Just then the boat touched the wharf, and a sleepy man, a stranger to +Priscilla, materialized and looked at her queerly. + +"For the Lodge?" he grunted. + +"Yes--I suppose so. Yes, the Lodge." + +"Up yonder." Then he turned to the freight. Once she was on the Green, +Priscilla paused and looked about. + +"For which?" Then she smiled a ghost of her bright, sunny smile. + +"My father's doors are shut to me," she sighed; "I cannot go to the +Lodge, yet! I must go--to----" Something touched her hand, and she +looked down. It was Farwell's dog, the old one, the one who used to play +with Priscilla when she was a little girl. + +"You dear!" she cried, dropping beside him; "You've come to show me the +way. Beg, Tony, beg like a good fellow. I have a bit of cake for you!" + +Clumsily, heavily, the old collie tried to respond, but of late he had +been excused from acting; and he was old, old. + +"Then take it, Tony, take it without pay. That comes of being a doggie. +You ought to be grateful that you are a dog, and--need not pay!" + +It was clear to her now that Farwell's home must be her first shelter, +and taking up her suit-case she passed over the Green and took the path +leading to the master's house. + +Some one had been before her. Some one who had swept the hearth, lighted +a fire, and set the breakfast table. Pine had taken Toky's place and was +vying with that deposed oriental in whole-souled service. + +Priscilla pushed the ever-unlatched door open and went inside. The bare +living-room had been transformed. John Boswell had transferred the +comfort, without the needless luxury, from the town home to the +In-Place--books, pictures, rugs, the winged chair and an equally easy one +across the hearth. And, yes, there was her own small rocker close by, as +if, in their detachment, they still remembered her and missed her and +were--ready for her coming! Priscilla noiselessly took off her wraps and +sat down, glad to rest again in the welcoming chair. + +She swayed back and forth, her closely folded arms across her +fast-beating heart. She kept her face turned toward the door through +which she knew the men would enter. She struggled for control, for a +manner which would disarm their shock at seeing her; but never in her +life had she felt more defeated, more helplessly at bay. + +The early morning light, streaming through the broad eastern window, +struck full across her where she sat in the low rocker; and so Boswell +and Farwell came upon her. They stopped short on the threshold and each, +in his way, sought to account for the apparition. The brave smile upon +Priscilla's face broke and fled miserably. + +"I--I've been doshed!" she cried in a last effort at bravado, and then, +covering her face with her hands, she wept hysterically, repeating again +and again, "I've come home, come home--to--no home!" + +They were beside her at once. Boswell's hand rested on the bowed head; +Farwell's on the back of her chair. + +"Dear, bright Butterfly!" whispered Boswell comfortingly; "it has come to +grief in the Garden." + +"Oh! I wanted to learn, and oh! Master Farwell, I said I was willing to +suffer, and I have, I have!" + +Then she looked up and her unflinching courage returned. + +"I was tired!" she moaned; "tired and hungry." + +"After breakfast you will explain--only as much as you choose, child." +This from Farwell. "Make the toast for us, Priscilla. I remember how +you used to brown it without blackening it. Boswell always gets dreaming +on the second side of the slice." + +After the strange meal Priscilla told very little, but both men read +volumes in her pale, thin face and understanding eyes. + +"Damn them!" thought Farwell; "they have taken it out of her. I knew they +would; but they have not conquered her!" + +Boswell thoughtfully considered her when her eyes were turned from him. + +"She learned," he thought; "suffered and learned; but when she gets her +breath she will go back. The In-Place cannot hold her." + +Then they told her of the Kenmore folk. + +"Your father has had a stroke, Priscilla," Farwell said in reply to her +question; "it has made him blind. Long Jean cares for him. He will have +no other near him." + +"And--he never wants me?" Priscilla whispered. + +"No; but he needs you!" Boswell muttered. "You must let your velvety +wings brush his dark life; the touch will comfort him." + +"And old Jerry?" + +Farwell leaned forward to poke the fire. + +"Old Jerry," said he, "has gone mildly--mad. All day he sits dressed in +his best, ready to start for Jerry-Jo's. He fancies that scapegoat of his +has a mansion and fortune, and is expecting his arrival. He amuses +himself by packing and unpacking a mangy old carpet-bag. Mary McAdam +looks after him and the village youngsters play with him. It's rather +a happy ending, after all." + +Many a time after that Priscilla packed and unpacked the old carpet-bag, +while Jerry rambled on of his great and splendid lad to the "Miss from +the States." + +"It's weak I am to-day, ma'am," he would say, "but to-morrow, to-morrow! +'Tis the Secret Portage I'll make for; the Fox is a bit too tricky for my +boat--a fine boat, ma'am. I'm thinking the Big Bay may be a trifle rough, +but the boat's a staunch one. Jerry-Jo's expecting me; but he'll +understand." + +"I am sure he will be glad to see you, sir." Priscilla learned to play +the sad game. The children taught her and loved her, and all the quiet +village kept her secret. Mary McAdam claimed her, but Priscilla clung +to the two men who meant the only comfort she could know. They never +questioned her; never intruded upon her sad, and often pitiful, reserve; +but they yearned over her and cheered her as best they could. + +Priscilla's visits to her father's house were often dramatic. At first +the sound of her voice disturbed and excited the blind man pathetically. + +"Eh? eh?" he stormed, holding to Long Jean's hand; "who comes in my +door?" + +"Oh! a lass--from the States," Jean replied with a reassuring pat on the +bony shoulder. + +"From the States?" suspiciously. + +"Aye. She's taken training in one of them big hospitables, and is a +friend to the crooked gentleman who bides with Master Farwell. The lass +comes to give me lessons in my trade." Jean had a touch of humour. + +"I'll have no fandangoing with me!" asserted Glenn, settling back in his +chair. "Old ways are good enough for me, Jean, and remember that, if you +value your place. I want no woman about me who has notions different from +what God Almighty meant her to have. Larning is woman's curse. Give 'em +larning, I've always held, and you've headed 'em for perdition." + +But Priscilla won him gradually, after he had become accustomed to her +disturbing voice. He would not have her touch him physically. She seemed +to rouse in him a strange unrest when she came near him, but eventually +he accepted her as a diversion and utilized her for his own hidden need. + +One day, with a hint of spring in the air, he reached out a lean hand +toward the window near which Jean had placed him, and said: + +"Woman, are you here?" + +"Jean's gone--erranding." The old mother-word attracted Glenn's +attention. + +"Eh?" he questioned. + +"To the village. I'm waiting until she comes back. Can I do anything for +you, sir?" + +"No. Is--is it a sunny day?" + +"Glorious. The ice is melting now--in the shady places." + +"I thought I felt the warmth. 'Tis cold and drear sitting forever in +darkness." + +"I am sure it must be--terrible." + +But Glenn resented pity. + +"God's will is never terrible!" he flung back. Then: + +"Are you one--who got larning?" + +"I--learned to read, sir." + +"And much--good it's done you--the larning! I warrant ye'd be better off +without it. Women are. Good women are content with God's way. My wife +was. Always willing, was she, to follow. God was enough for her--God and +me!" + +"I wonder!" + +"Eh? What was that?" + +"Nothing, sir. May I read to you?" + +"Is the Book there?" + +"Right here on the stand. What shall I read?" + +"There's one verse as haunts me at times; find it in Acts--the +seventeenth, I think--and along about the twenty-third verse. I used to +conjure what it might mean more than was good for me. It haunts me now, +though I ain't doubting but what the meaning will come to me, some day. +Them as sits in darkness often gets spiritual leadings." + +And Priscilla read: + +"'For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with +this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly +worship, him I declare unto you?'" + +A silence fell between the old, blind father and the stranger-girl +looking yearningly into his face. + +"I've conned it this way and that," Glenn said, with his oratorical +manner claiming him. "It might be that some worship an Unknown God and +the true God might pass by and set things straight. There be altars and +altars, and sometimes even my God seems----" + +"An Unknown God?" Priscilla asked tenderly. "That must be such a lonely +feeling." + +"No!" almost shrieked Nathaniel, as if the suggestion insulted him; "no! +The true God declared himself to me long since. But what do you make +of it, young Miss?" + +Priscilla turned her eyes to the open, free outer world, where the +sunshine was and the stirring of spring. + +"Sometimes," she whispered, "I love to think of God coming down from all +the shrines and altars of the world, and walking with his children--in +the Garden! They need him so. I do not like altars or shrines; the Garden +is the holiest place for God to be!" + +"Thou blasphemer!" Glenn struggled to an upright position and his +sightless eyes were fixed upon his child. "Wouldst thou desecrate the +holy of holies, the altars of the living God?" + +"If he is a living God he will not stay upon an altar; he will come and +walk with his children!" + +The tone of the absorbed voice reached where heretofore it had never +touched. + +"I'll have none of thee!" commanded Nathaniel, his face dangerously +purple. "Your words are of the--the devil! Leave me! leave me!" And for +the second time Priscilla was ordered from her father's house. + +It did not matter. It was all so useless, and the future was so blank. +Still, to go back to Master Farwell's just then was impossible, and +Priscilla turned toward the wood road leading to the Far Hill Place. She +had no plan, no purpose. She was drifting, drifting, and could not see +her way. The bright sun touched her comfortingly. In the shadow it was +chilly; but the red rock was warm and luring. And so she came to the open +space and the almost forgotten shrine where once she had raised her +Strange God. + +She sat down upon a fallen tree and looked over the little, many-islanded +bay to the Secret Portage. Through that she seemed to pass yearningly, +and her eyes grew large and strained. Then she stretched out her arms, +her young, empty arms. + +"My Garden!" she called; "my Garden, my dear, dear love and Margaret's +God! Margaret's and mine!" + +And so she sat for a while longer. Then, because the chill air crept +closer and closer, she arose and faced the old, bleached skull. The +winters had killed the sheltering vines that once hid it from all eyes +but hers. It stood bare and hideous, as if demanding that she again +worship it. A frenzy overpowered Priscilla. That whitened, dead thing +brought back memories that hurt and stung by their very sweetness. She +rushed to the spot and seized the forked stick upon which the skull +rested. + +"This for all--Unknown Gods!" she cried in breathless passion, and dashed +the skull to the ground. "And this! and this!" She trampled it. "They +shall not keep you upon shrines! They shall not keep you hidden from all +in the Garden!" With that she took a handful of the shattered god and +flung it far and wide, with her blazing eyes fixed on the Secret Portage. + +Standing so, she looked like a priestess of old defying all falseness and +traditional wrong. + +Among the trees Richard Travers gazed upon the scene with a kind of +horror gripping him. + +He was not a superstitious man, but he was a worn and weary one, and he +had come to the Far Hill Place, two days before, because, after much +searching, he had failed to find Priscilla Glynn, and his love was hurt +and desperate. He had wanted to hide and suffer where no eyes could +penetrate. But he had discovered that for a man to return to his boyhood +was but to undergo the torture of those who are haunted by lost spirits. +It had been damnable--that dreary, dismantled house back on the hill! +The nights had maddened him and left him unable to cope intelligently +with the days. Nothing comforting had been there. The pale boy he once +had been taunted him with memories of lowered ideals, unfilled promise +and purpose. He had travelled a long distance from the Far Hill Place, +and he was going back to fight it out--somehow, somewhere. He would +stop at Master Farwell's and then take the night steamer for the old +battle-ground. And just at that moment, in the open space, he saw the +strange sight that stopped his breath and heart for an instant. + +Of course his wornout senses were being tricked. He had known of such +cases, and was now thoroughly alarmed. Like a man in delirium, he walked +into the open and confronted the fascinated gaze of the girl for whom he +had been searching for weeks. + +"How came--you here?" he asked in a voice from which normal emotions were +eliminated. + +"And--you?" she echoed. + +They came a step nearer, their hands outstretched in a poor, blind +groping for solution and reality. + +"Why--I am--I meant to tell you--some day. I am Priscilla Glenn--not +Glynn--Priscilla Glenn of--Lonely Farm." + +"My God!" Travers came a step nearer, his face set and grim. "Of course! +I see it now--the dance! Don't you remember? The dance at the Swiss +village?" + +"And the--the tune that made me cry. Who--are----How did _you_ know that +tune? How did you know--the In-Place?" + +Their hands touched and clung now, desperately. Together they must find +their way out. + +"I am--I was--the boy of the Far Hill Place. I played for you--once--to +dance--right here!" + +Something seemed snapping in Priscilla's brain. + +"Yes," she whispered, breathing hard and quick. "I remember now: you +taught me music, and--and you taught me--love, but you told me not to let +them kill my ideal; and, oh! I haven't! I haven't!" + +She shut her eyes and reeled forward. She did not faint, but for a moment +her senses refused to accept impressions. + +Travers knelt and caught her to him as she fell. Her dear head was upon +his knee once more, and he pressed his lips to the wonderful hair from +which the little hat had fallen. Then her eyes opened, but her lips +trembled. + +"You--came all the way from the Place Beyond the Winds, little girl, to +show me my ideal again; to strike your blow--for women." Travers was +whispering. + +"Your ideal? But no, dear love. Your ideal is back there--in the Garden." + +"And yours? I--I do not understand, Priscilla. I am still dazed. What +Garden?" + +"The big world, my dear man; your world." + +"My blessed child! Do not look like that. Do you think I'm going back +without you? I've been looking for--Priscilla Glynn--fool that I was! +And you were--great heavens! You were the little nurse in St. Albans!" + +"Yes--and you and I--stood by Jerry-Jo McAlpin's bed--you and I! That was +his secret." + +"Priscilla, what do you mean?" + +Then she told him, clinging to him, fearing that he might fall from her +hold as she had once fallen from his, on the mountain across the sea. + +"And you danced before my eyes as only one woman on earth can dance--and +I did not know! Tricked by a name and--and the change in me! You were +always the same--the flame-spirit that I first saw--here!" + +"And you played--that tune, and you were divinely good; and I--I did not +know." + +"But we drifted straight to each other, my girl!" + +"Only--to part." + +"To part? Never! It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out +to the open sea. We'll slip our moorings to-night, and send word after! +I must have you, and at once. I know what it means to see you escaping my +hold. Flame-spirits are elusive." + +"And--and Margaret?" + +"She--needs you. A fortnight ago I saw her, and this is what she said, +smiling her old, brave smile: 'I think I could bear it better if her +dear, shining head was in sight. Greater love hath no woman! Find her and +bring her back!' That's your place, my sweet. Out there where the fight +is on. Such as you can show us--that 'tis no fight between men and women, +but one against ignorance and tradition. You'll trust yourself to me, +dear girl?" + +[Illustration: "'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, +and out to the open sea'"] + +"I did--long ago!" + +"To think"--Travers was gaining control of himself; the shock, the +readjustment, had been so sudden that sensation returned slowly--"to +think, dear blunderer, of your coming among us all, striking your blow, +and then rushing to your In-Place! But love is mightier than thou; +mightier than all else!" + +"Not mightier than honour--such honour as Margaret knows!" Then fiercely: +"What right have I to my--joy, when she----" + +"She told me that only by your happiness being consummated could she hope +for peace." + +Travers's voice was low and reverent. + +"What--a girl she is!" Priscilla faltered. + +"The All Woman." + +"Yes, the All Woman." + +The sun began to drop behind the tall hemlocks. Priscilla shivered in the +arms that held her. + +"Little girl, I wish I could wrap you in the old red cape you wore once, +before the shrine." + +"It is gone now, like the shrine. Oh! my love, my love, to think of the +Garden makes me live again." The fancy caught Travers's imagination. + +"The Garden!" + +'Twas a day for dreamy wandering, now that they had come to a cleared +space from which they could see light. + +"The Garden, with its flowers and weeds." + +"And its men and women!" added Priscilla, her eyes full of gladness. +"Oh! long ago, I told Master Farwell that I felt Kenmore was only my +stopping-place; I feel it now so surely." + +"Yes, my sweet, but you and I will return here to polish our ideals and +catch our breaths." + +"In the Place Beyond the Winds, dear man?" + +"Exactly! Those old Indians had a genius for names." + +"And in the Garden--what are we to do?" Priscilla asked, her eyes growing +more practical. "They will have none of--Priscilla Glynn, you know. And +you, dear heart, what will they do to you, now that you have defied their +code?" + +"Priscilla Glynn has done her best and is--gone! There will be a +Priscilla Travers with many a stern duty before her." + +"Yes, but you?" + +"I shall try to keep your golden head in sight, little girl! For the +rest--I have a small income--my father's. I must tell you about him and +my mother, some day; and I shall write--write; and men and women may read +what they might not be willing to listen to." + +"I see! And oh! how rich and bright the way on ahead looks! Just when I +thought the clouds were crushing me, they opened and I saw----" + +"What, Priscilla?" + +"You!" + +"And now," Travers got upon his feet and drew her up; "do you know what +is going to happen?" + +"Can anything more happen to-day?" + +"We are going to Master Farwell's, you and I. We are going to take him +with us to the little chapel down the Channel; there we'll leave +Priscilla Glenn, and, in her place, bring Priscilla Travers forth." + +The colour rose to the thin, radiant face. + +"And may we take John Boswell, too?" + +"Boswell? Is he here?" + +"Yes, with my Master Farwell." + +Travers rapidly put loose ends of the past together, then exclaimed: + +"God bless him; God bless Master Farwell!" + +"I only know"--Priscilla's eyes were dim--"I only know--they are good +men--both!" + +"Yes, both! And to-night," Travers came back to the present, "I will take +my wife away with me on the steamer." + +"A poor, vagabond wife. Nothing but a heart full of love--as baggage." + +"The Garden is a rich place, my love." + +"And one can get so much for so little there." Priscilla meant to hold to +her dear old joke. + +"And so little--for so much!" + +"That's not the language of the Garden, good man!" + +It was so easy to play, now that Travers was leading the way from the +wrecked shrine. + +"You are right, my girl!" Then Travers stopped and faced her, his eyes +glowing with love and courage. "And to-morrow--is not yet touched!" he +said. + +THE END + + + + * * * * * + +BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + +Joyce of the North Woods +Princess Rags and Tatters +A Son of the Hills +Janet of the Dunes +A Little Dusky Hero +Meg and the Others +Camp Brave Pine + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Place Beyond the Winds, by Harriet T. 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Comstock. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Place Beyond the Winds, by Harriet T. Comstock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Place Beyond the Winds + +Author: Harriet T. Comstock + +Illustrator: Harry Spafford Potter + +Release Date: June 2, 2006 [EBook #18488] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLACE BEYOND THE WINDS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/cover01.jpg"><img src="images/cover01.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE PLACE BEYOND THE WINDS</h1> + +<h2>BY HARRIET T. COMSTOCK</h2> + + +<h3><i>Illustrated by</i><br /> +HARRY SPAFFORD POTTER</h3> + +<h3>GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK<br /> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY<br /> +1914</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/gs01.jpg"><img src="images/gs01.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h3><a name="gs01" id="gs01"></a>[Illustration: "It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan and yet divine"]</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="FOREWORD" id="FOREWORD"></a>FOREWORD</h2> + + +<p>The In-Place cannot be found; you must happen upon it! Hidden behind its +rugged red rocks and hemlock-covered hills, it lies waiting for something +to happen. It has its Trading Station, to and from which the Canadian +Indians paddle their canoes—sometimes a dugout—bearing rare, luscious +blue berries invitingly packed in small baskets with their own green +leaves. And to the Station, also, go the hardy natives—good English, +Scotch, or "Mixed"—with their splendid loads of fish.</p> + +<p>"White fish go: pickerel come"—but always there is fish through summer +days and winter's ice.</p> + +<p>There is a lovely village Green, around which the modest homes cluster +sociably. Poor, plain places they may be, but never dirty nor untidy. And +the children and dogs! Such lovely babies; such human animals. They play +and work together quite naturally and are the truest friends.</p> + +<p>A little church, with a queer pointed spire and a beautiful altar, +stands with open doors like a kindly welcome to all. Back of this, and +apologetically placed behind its stockade fence, is the jail.</p> + +<p>To have a jail and never need it! What more can be said of a community? +But you are told—if you insist upon it—that the building is preserved +as a warning, and if any one should by chance be forced to occupy it, "he +will have the best the place affords"—for justice is seasoned with mercy +in the In-Place.</p> + +<p>If you would know the aristocracy of the hamlet you must leave the +friendly Green and the pleasant water of the Channel, climb the red +rocks, tread the grassy road between the hemlocks and the pines, and find +the farms. For, be it understood, by one's ability to wrench a living +from the soil instead of the water is he known and estimated. To fish is +to gamble; to plant and reap is conservative business.</p> + +<p>Dreamer's Rock and One Tree Island, Far Hill Place and Lonely Farm, +safely sheltered they lie, and from them, in obedience to the "Lure of +the States," comes now and again an adventurous soul to make his way, if +so he may; and never was there a braver, truer wanderer than Priscilla of +Lonely Farm. Equipped with a great faith, a straight method of thinking, +and an ideal that never faded from her sight, she, by the help of the +Poor Property Man, found her place and her work awaiting her. Love, she +found, too—love that had to be tested by a man's sense of honour and a +woman's determination, but it survived and found its fulfilment before +the Shrine in the woods beyond Lonely Farm, where, as a little child, +Priscilla had set up her Strange God and given homage to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harriet T. Comstock</span>.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> + +<a href="#FOREWORD">FOREWORD</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</a><br /><br /> + + +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h2><a name="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p><a href="#gs01">"It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan and yet divine"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs02">"'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!' The +bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs03">"'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you! You'll blacken +my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous +and—marry me?'"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs04">"In one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, the man +upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then at +Priscilla"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#gs05">"'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out to the open +sea'"</a> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>The Place Beyond the Winds</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<p>Priscilla Glenn stood on the little slope leading down from the farmhouse +to the spring at the bottom of the garden, and lifted her head as a young +deer does when it senses something new or dangerous. Suddenly, and +entirely subconsciously, she felt her kinship with life, her relation to +the lovely May day which was more like June than May—and a rare thing +for Kenmore—whose seasons lapsed into each other as calmly and +sluggishly as did all the other happenings in that spot known to the +Canadian Indians as The Place Beyond the Wind—the In-Place.</p> + +<p>Across Priscilla's straight, young shoulders lay a yoke from both ends of +which dangled empty tin pails, destined, sooner or later, to be filled +with that peculiarly fine water of which Nathaniel Glenn was so proud. +Nathaniel Glenn never loved things in a human, tender fashion, but he was +proud of many things—proud that he, and his before him, had braved the +hardships of farming among the red, rocky hills of Kenmore instead of +wrenching a livelihood from the water. This capacity for tilling the soil +instead of gambling in fish had made of Glenn, and a few other men, the +real aristocracy of the place. Nathaniel's grandfather, with his wife and +fifteen children, had been the first white settlers of Kenmore. So eager +had the Indians been to have this first Glenn among them that it is said +they offered him any amount of land he chose to select, and Glenn had +taken only so much as would insure him a decent farm and prospects. This +act of restraint had further endeared him to the natives, and no regret +was ever known to follow the advent of the estimable gentleman.</p> + +<p>The present Glenn never boasted; he had no need to; the plain statement +of fact was enough to secure his elevated position from mean attack.</p> + +<p>Nathaniel had taught himself to read and write—a most unusual thing—and +naturally he was proud of that. He was proud of his stern, bleak religion +that left no doubt in his own mind of his perfect interpretation of +divine will. He was proud of his handsome wife—twenty years younger than +himself. Inwardly he was proud of that, within himself, which had been +capable of securing Theodora where other men had failed. Theodora had +caused him great disappointment, but Nathaniel was a just man and he +could not exactly see that his disappointment was due to any deliberate +or malicious act of Theodora's; it was only when his wife showed weak +tendencies toward making light of the matter that he hardened his heart.</p> + +<p>In the face of his great desire and his modest aspirations—Theodora had +borne for him (that was the only way he looked at it) five children—all +girls, when she very well knew a son was the one thing, in the way of +offspring, that he had expected or wanted.</p> + +<p>The first child was as dark as a little Indian, "so dark," explained +Nathaniel, "that she would have been welcome in any house on a New Year's +Day." She lasted but a year, and, while she was a regret, she had been +tolerated as an attempt, at least, in the right direction. Then came the +second girl, a soft, pale creature with ways that endeared her to the +mother-heart so tragically that when she died at the age of two Theodora +rebelliously proclaimed that she wanted no other children! This blasphemy +shocked Nathaniel beyond measure, and when, a year later, twin girls were +born on Lonely Farm, he pointed out to his wife that no woman could fly +in the face of the Almighty with impunity and she must now see, in this +double disgrace of sex, her punishment.</p> + +<p>Theodora was stricken; but the sad little sisters early escaped the +bondage of life, and the Glenns once again, childless and alone, viewed +the future superstitiously and with awe. Even Nathaniel, hope gone as to +a son, resignedly accepted the fate that seemed to pursue him. Then, +after five years, Priscilla was born, the lustiest and most demanding of +all the children.</p> + +<p>"She seems," said Long Jean, the midwife, "to be made of the odds and +ends of all the others. She has the clear, dark skin of the first, the +blue eyes of the second, and the rusty coloured hair and queer features +of the twins."</p> + +<p>Between Long Jean and Mary Terhune, midwives, a social rivalry existed. +On account of her Indian taint Long Jean was less sought in aristocratic +circles, but so great had been the need the night when Priscilla made her +appearance, that both women had been summoned, and Long Jean, arriving +first, and, her superior skill being well known, was accepted.</p> + +<p>When she announced the birth and sex of the small stranger, Nathaniel, +smoking before the fire in the big, clean, bare, living-room, permitted +himself one reckless defiance:</p> + +<p>"Not wanted!" Long Jean made the most of this.</p> + +<p>"And his pretty wife at the point of death," she gossiped to Mrs. McAdam +of the White Fish Lodge; "and there is this to say about the child being +a girl: the lure of the States can't touch her, and Nathaniel may have +some one to turn to for care and what not when infirmity overtakes him. +Besides, the lass may be destined for the doing of big things; those +witchy brats often are."</p> + +<p>"The lure don't get all the boys," muttered Mary McAdam, cautiously +thinking of her Sandy, aged five, and Tom, a bit older.</p> + +<p>"All as amounts to much," Long Jean returned.</p> + +<p>And in her heart of hearts Mary McAdam knew this to be true. The time +would come to her, as it had to all Kenmore mothers, when she would have +to acknowledge that by the power of the "lure" were her boys to be +tested.</p> + +<p>But Priscilla at Lonely Farm showed a hardened disregard of her state. +She persisted and grew sturdy and lovely in defiance of tradition and +conditions. She was as keen-witted and original as she was independent +and charming. Still Theodora took long before she capitulated, and +Nathaniel never succumbed. Indeed, as years passed he grew to fear and +dislike his young daughter. The little creature, in some subtle way, +seemed to have "found him out"; she became, though he would not admit it, +a materialized conscience to him. She made him doubt himself; she laughed +at him, elfishly and without excuse or explanation.</p> + +<p>Once they two, sitting alone before the hearth—Nathaniel in his great +chair, Priscilla in her small one—faced each other fearsomely for a +time; then the child gave the gurgling laugh of inner understanding that +maddened the father.</p> + +<p>"What you laughing at?" he muttered, taking the pipe from his mouth.</p> + +<p>"You!" Priscilla was only seven then, but large and strong.</p> + +<p>"Me? How dare you!"</p> + +<p>"You are so funny. If I screw my eyes tight I see two of you."</p> + +<p>Then Nathaniel struck her. Not brutally, not maliciously; he wanted +desperately to set himself right by—old-time and honoured methods—force +of authority!</p> + +<p>Priscilla sprang from her chair, all the laughter and joyousness gone +from her face. She went close to her father, and leaning toward him as +though to confide the warning to him more directly, said slowly:</p> + +<p>"Don't you do that or Cilla will hate you!"</p> + +<p>It was as if she meant to impress upon him that past a certain limit he +could not go.</p> + +<p>Nathaniel rose in mighty wrath at this, and, white-faced and outraged, +darted toward the rebel, but she escaped him and put the width of the +room and the square deal table between them. Then began the chase that +suddenly sank into a degrading and undignified proceeding. Around and +around the two went, and presently the child began to laugh again as +the element of sport entered in.</p> + +<p>So Theodora came upon them, and her deeper understanding of her husband's +face frightened and spurred her to action. In that moment, while she +feared, she loved, as she had never loved before, her small daughter. If +the child was a conscience to her stern father, she was a materialization +of all the suppressed defiance of the mother, and, ignoring consequences, +she ran to Priscilla, gathered her in her arms, and over the little, hot, +panting body, confronted the blazing eyes of her husband.</p> + +<p>And Nathaniel had done—nothing; said nothing! In a moment the fury, +outwardly, subsided, but deep in all three hearts new emotions were born +never to die.</p> + +<p>After that there was a triangle truce. The years slipped by. Theodora +taught her little daughter to read by a novel method which served the +double purpose of quickening the keen intellect and arousing a +housewifely skill.</p> + +<p>The alphabet was learned from the labels on the cans of vegetables and +fruits on Theodora's shelves. There was one line of goods made by a firm, +according to its own telling, high in the favour of "their Majesties So +and So," that was rich in vowels and consonants. When Priscilla found +that by taking innocent looking little letters and stringing them +together like beads she could make words, she was wild with delight, and +when she discovered that she could further take the magic words and by +setting them forth in orderly fashion express her own thoughts or know +another's thoughts, she was happy beyond description.</p> + +<p>"Father," she panted at that point, her hands clasped before her, her +dark, blue-eyed face flushing and paling, "will you let me go to Master +Farwell to study with the boys?"</p> + +<p>Nathaniel eyed her from the top step of the porch; "with the boys" had +been fatal to the child's request.</p> + +<p>"No," he said firmly, the old light of antagonism glinting suddenly under +his brow, "girls don't need learning past what their mothers can give +them."</p> + +<p>"I—do! I'm willing to suffer and <i>die</i>, but I do want to know things." +She was an intense atom, and from the first thought true and straight.</p> + +<p>A sharp memory was in her mind and it lent fervour to her words. It +related to the episode of the small, fat mustard jar which always graced +the middle of the dining table. They had once told her that the contents +of the jar "were not for little girls."</p> + +<p>They had been mistaken. She had investigated, suffered, and learned! +Well, she was ready to suffer—but learn she must!</p> + +<p>Nathaniel shook his head and set forth his scheme of life for her, +briefly and clearly.</p> + +<p>"You'll have nothing but woman ways—bad enough you need them—they will +tame and keep you safe. You'll marry early and find your pleasure and +duty in your home."</p> + +<p>Priscilla turned without another word, but there was an ugly line between +her eyes.</p> + +<p>That night and the next she took the matter before a higher judge, +and fervently, rigidly prayed. On the third night she pronounced +her ultimatum. Kneeling by the tiny gable window of her grim little +bedchamber, her face strained and intense, her big eyes fixed on a red, +pulsing planet above the hemlocks outside, she said:</p> + +<p>"Dear God, I'll give you three days to move his stony heart to let me +go to school; if you don't do it by then, I'm going to worship graven +images!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla at that time was eight, and three days seemed to her a generous +time limit. But Nathaniel's stony heart did not melt, and at the end of +the three days Priscilla ceased to pray for many and many a year, and +forthwith she proceeded to worship a graven image of her own creation.</p> + +<p>A mile up the grassy road, beyond Lonely Farm and on the way toward the +deep woods, was an open space of rich, red rock surrounded by a soft, +feathery fringe of undergrowth and a few well-grown trees. From this spot +one could see the Channel widened out into the Little Bay: the myriad +islands, and, off to the west, the Secret and Fox Portages, beyond which +lay the Great Bay, where the storms raged and the wind—such wind as +Kenmore never knew—howled and tore like a raging fiend!</p> + +<p>In this open stretch of trees and rock Priscilla set up her own god. She +had found the bleached skull of a cow in one of her father's pastures; +this gruesome thing mounted upon a forked stick, its empty eye-sockets +and ears filled with twigs and dried grasses, was sufficiently pagan +and horrible to demand an entirely unique form of worship, and this +Priscilla proceeded to evolve. She invented weird words, meaningless but +high-sounding; she propitiated her idol with wild dances and an abandon +of restraint. Before it she had moments of strange silence when, with +wonder-filled eyes, she waited for suggestion and impression by which to +be guided. Very young was she when intuitively she sensed the inner call +that was always so deeply to sway her. Through the years from eight to +fourteen Priscilla worshipped more or less frequently before her secret +shrine. The uncanny ceremony eased many an overstrained hour and did for +the girl what should have been done in a more normal way. The place on +the red rock became her sanctuary. To it she carried her daily task of +sewing and dreamed her long dreams.</p> + +<p>The Glenns rarely went to church—the distance was too great—but +Nathaniel, looming high and stern across the table in the bare kitchen, +morning and night, set forth the rigid, unlovely creed of his belief. +This fell upon Priscilla's unheeding ears, but the hours before the +shrine were deeply, tenderly religious, although they were bright and +merry hours.</p> + +<p>Of course, during the years, there were the regular Kenmore happenings +that impressed the girl to a greater or lesser degree, but they were like +pictures thrown upon a screen—they came, they went, while her inner +growth was steady and sure.</p> + +<p>Two families, one familiar and commonplace, the other more mystical than +anything else, interested Priscilla mightily during her early youth. +Jerry and Michael McAlpin, with little Jerry-Jo, the son of old Jerry, +were vital factors in Kenmore. They occupied the exalted position of +rural expressmen, and distributed, when various things did not interfere, +the occasional freight and mail that survived the careless methods of the +vicinity.</p> + +<p>The McAlpin brothers were hard drinkers, but they were most considerate. +When Jerry indulged, Michael remained sober and steady; when Michael fell +before temptation, Jerry pulled himself together in a marvellous way, and +so, as a firm, they had surmounted every inquiry and suspicion of a +relentless government and were welcomed far and wide, not only for their +legitimate business, but for the amount of gossip and scandal they +disbursed along with their load. Jerry-Jo, the son of the older McAlpin, +was four years older than Priscilla and was the only really young +creature who had ever entered her life intimately.</p> + +<p>The other family, of whom the girl thought vaguely, as she might have of +a story, were the Travers of the Far Hill Place.</p> + +<p>Now it might seem strange to more social minds that people from a distant +city could come summer after summer to the same spot and yet remain +unknown to their nearest neighbours; but Kenmore was not a social +community. It had all the reserve of its English heritage combined with +the suspicion of its Indian taint, and it took strangers hard. Then, +added to this, the Traverses aroused doubt, for no one, especially +Nathaniel Glenn, could account for a certain big, heavy-browed man who +shared the home life of the Hill Place without any apparent right or +position. For Mrs. Travers, Glenn had managed to conjure up a very actual +distrust. She was too good-looking and free-acting to be sound; and her +misshapen and delicate son was, so the severe man concluded, a curse, in +all probability, for past offences. The youth of Kenmore was straight and +hearty, unless—and here Nathaniel recalled his superstitions—dire +vengeance was wreaked on parents through their offspring.</p> + +<p>With no better reason than this, and with the stubbornness he mistook for +strength, Glenn would have nothing to do with his neighbours, four miles +back in the woods, and had forbidden the sale of milk and garden stuff to +them.</p> + +<p>All this Priscilla had heard, as children do, but she had never seen any +member of the family from the Far Hill Place, and mentally relegated them +to the limbo of the damned under the classification of "them, from the +States." Their name, even, was rarely mentioned, and, while curiosity +often swayed her, temptation had never overruled obedience.</p> + +<p>The McAlpins, with all their opportunity and qualifications, found little +about the strangers from which to make talk. The family were reserved, +and Tough Pine, the Indian guide they had impressed into summer service, +was either bought or, from natural inclination, kept himself to himself.</p> + +<p>So, until the summer when she was fourteen, Priscilla Glenn knew less +about the Far Hill people than she did about the inhabitants of heaven +and hell, with whom her father was upon such intimate and familiar terms.</p> + +<p>Once, when Priscilla was ten, something had occurred which prepared her +for following events. It was a bright morning and the McAlpin boat +stopped at the wharf of Lonely Farm. While old Jerry went to the +farmhouse with a package, Jerry-Jo remained on guard deeply engrossed in +a book he had extracted from a box beneath the seat. He appeared not to +notice Priscilla, who ran down the path to greet him in friendly fashion.</p> + +<p>The boy was about fifteen then, and all the bloods of his various +ancestors were warring in his veins. His mother had been a full-blooded +Indian from Wyland Island, had drawn her four dollars every year from the +English Government, and ruled her family with an iron hand; his father +was Scotch-Irish, hot-blooded and jovial; Jerry-Jo was a composite +result. Handsome, moody, with flashes of fun when not crossed, a good +comrade at times, an unforgiving enemy.</p> + +<p>He liked Priscilla, but she was his inferior, by sex, and she sorely +needed discipline. He meant to keep her in her place, so he kept on +reading. Priscilla at length, however, attracted his attention.</p> + +<p>"Hey-ho, Jerry-Jo!"</p> + +<p>"Hullo!"</p> + +<p>"Where did you get the book?"</p> + +<p>"It's for him up yonder."</p> + +<p>And with this Jerry-Jo stood up, turned and twisted his lithe body into +such a grotesque distortion that he was quite awful to look upon, and +left no doubt in the girl's mind as to whom he referred. He brought the +Far Hill people into focus, sharply and suddenly.</p> + +<p>"He has miles of books," Jerry-Jo went on, "and a fiddle and pictures and +gewgaws. He plays devil tunes, and he's bewitched!"</p> + +<p>This description made the vague boy of the woods real and vital for the +first time in Priscilla's life, and she shuddered. Then Jerry-Jo +generously offered to lend her one of the books until his father came +back, and Priscilla eagerly stepped from stone to stone until she could +reach the volume. Once she had obtained the prize she went back to the +garden and made herself comfortable, wholly forgetting Jerry-Jo and the +world at large.</p> + +<p>It was the oddest book she had ever seen. The words were arranged in +charming little rows, and when you read them over and over they sang +themselves into your very heart. They told you, lilting along, of a road +that no one but you ever knew—a road that led in and out through wonders +of beauty and faded at the day's end into your heart's desire. Your +Heart's Desire!</p> + +<p>And just then Jerry-Jo cried:</p> + +<p>"Hey, there! you, Priscilla, come down with that book."</p> + +<p>"Your Heart's Desire!" Priscilla's eyes were misty as she repeated the +words. Indeed, one large, full tear escaped the blue eyes and lay like a +pitiful kiss on the fair page, where there was a broad, generous space +for tears on either side of the lines.</p> + +<p>"Hist! Father's coming!"</p> + +<p>Then Priscilla stood up and a demon seemed to possess her.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to give it back to you! It's mine!" she cried shrilly.</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo made as if he were about to dash up the path and annihilate her, +but she stayed him by holding the book aloft and calling:</p> + +<p>"If you do I'll throw it in the Channel!" She looked equal to it, too, +and Jerry-Jo swore one angry word and stopped short. Then the girl's mood +changed. Quite gently and noiselessly she ran to Jerry-Jo and held the +opened book toward him. His keen eye fell upon the tear-stain, but his +coarser nature wrongly interpreted it.</p> + +<p>"You imp!" he cried; "you spat upon it!"</p> + +<p>But Priscilla shook her head. "No—it's a tear," she explained; "and, oh! +Jerry-Jo, it is mine—listen!—you cannot take it away from me."</p> + +<p>And standing there upon the rock she repeated the words of the poem, her +rich voice rising and falling musically, and poor Jerry-Jo, hypnotized by +that which he could not comprehend, listened open-mouthed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>And now, again, it was spring and Priscilla was fourteen. Standing in the +garden path, her yoke across her shoulders, her ears straining at the +sound she heard, the old poem returned to her as it had not for years. +She faltered over the words at the first attempt, but with the second +they rushed vividly to her mind and seemed set to the music of that +"pat-pat-pat" sound on the water. An unaccountable excitement seized +her—that new but thrilling sense of nearness and kinship to life and the +lovely meaning of spring. She was no longer a little girl looking on at +life; she was part of it; and something was going to happen after the +long shut-in winter!</p> + +<p>And presently the McAlpin boat came in sight around Lone Tree Island +and in it stood Jerry-Jo quite alone, paddling straight for the +landing-place! For a moment Priscilla hardly knew him. The winter +had worked a wonder upon him. He was almost a man! He had the manners, +too, of his kind—he ignored the girl on the rocks.</p> + +<p>But he had seen her; seen her before she had seen him. He had noted +the wonderful change in her, for eighteen is keen about fourteen, +particularly when fourteen is full of promise and belongs, in a +sense, to one.</p> + +<p>The short, ugly frock Priscilla wore could not hide the beauty and grace +of her young body—the winter had wiped out forever her awkward length of +limb. Her reddish hair was twisted on the top of her head and made her +look older and more mature. Her uplifted face had the shining radiancy +that was its chief charm, and as Jerry-Jo looked he was moved to +admiration, and for that very reason he assumed indifference and gave +undivided attention to his boat.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>With skill and grace Jerry-Jo steered his boat to the landing-place at +the foot of the garden. He leaped out and tied the rope to the ring in +the rocks, then he waited for Priscilla to pay homage, but Priscilla was +so absorbed with her own thoughts that she overlooked the expected +tribute of sex to sex. At last Jerry-Jo stood upright, legs wide apart, +hands in pockets, and, with bold, handsome face thrown back, cried:</p> + +<p>"Well, there!"</p> + +<p>At this Priscilla started, gave a light laugh, and readjusting her yoke, +walked down to the young fellow below.</p> + +<p>"It's Jerry-Jo," she said slowly, still held by the change in him; "and +alone!"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Jerry-Jo gave a gleaming smile that showed all his strong, white +teeth—long, keen teeth they were, like the fangs of an animal.</p> + +<p>"Where are the others?" asked Priscilla.</p> + +<p>"Uncle's dead," the boy returned promptly and cheerfully; "dead, and a +good thing. He was getting cranky."</p> + +<p>Priscilla started back as if the mention of death on that glorious day +cast a cloud and a shadow.</p> + +<p>"And your father, Jerry-Jo, is he, too, dead?"</p> + +<p>"No. Dad, he is in jail!"</p> + +<p>"In—jail!" Never in her life before had Priscilla known of any one being +in Kenmore jail. The red, wooden house behind its high, stockade fence +was at once the pride and relic of the place. To have a jail and never +use it! What more could be said for the peaceful virtues of a community?</p> + +<p>"Yes. Dad's in jail and in jail he will stay, says he, till them as put +him there begs his pardon humble and proper."</p> + +<p>Priscilla now dropped the yoke upon the rocks and gave her entire thought +to Jerry-Jo, who, she could see, was bursting with importance and a sense +of the dramatic.</p> + +<p>"What did your father do, Jerry-Jo?"</p> + +<p>"It was like this: Uncle Michael died and the wake we had for him was the +most splendid you ever saw. Bottles and kegs from the White Fish and +money to pay for all, too! Every one welcome and free to say his say and +drink his fill. I got drunk myself! Long about midnight Big Hornby he +said as how he once licked Uncle Michael, and Dad he cried back that to +blacken a man's name when he was too dead to stand up for it was a dirty +trick, and so it was! Then it was forth and back for a time, with +compliments and what not, and if you please just as Dad sent a bit of a +stool at Big Hornby, who should come in at the door but Mr. Schoolmaster, +him as had no invite and was not wanted! The stool took him full on the +arm and broke it—the arm—and folks took sides, and some one, after a +bit, got Dad from under the pile and tried to make him beg pardon! Beg +pardon at his own wake in his own home, and Schoolmaster taking chances +coming when he was not invited! Umph!"</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo's eyes flashed superbly.</p> + +<p>"'I'll go to jail first and be damned,' said Dad, and that put it in the +mind of Big Hornby, and he up and says, 'To jail with him!' And so they +takes Dad, thinking to scare him, and claps him into jail, not even +mending the lock or nailing up the boards. That's three days since, and +yesterday Hornby he comes to Dad and says as how a steamer was in with +mail and freight and who was to carry it around? And Dad says as how I +was a man now and could hold up the honour of the family, says he, and +moreover, says Dad, 'I'll neither eat nor come out till you come to your +senses and beg pardon for mistaking a joke for an insult!'"</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo paused to laugh. Then:</p> + +<p>"So here am I with the boatload—there's a box of seeds for your +father—and then I'm off to the Hill Place, for them as stays there has +come, and there are boxes and packages for them as usual."</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo proceeded to extract Mr. Glenn's box from the boat, and +Priscilla, her clear skin flushed with excitement, drew near to examine +the cargo.</p> + +<p>"More books!" she gasped. "Oh, Jerry-Jo, do you remember the first book?"</p> + +<p>"Do I?" Jerry-Jo had shouldered the box of seeds and now bent upon the +girl a glad, softened look.</p> + +<p>"Do I? You was a wild thing then, Priscilla. And I told him about the +slob of a tear and he laughed in his big, queer way, and he said, I +remember well, that by that token the book was more yours than his, and +he wanted me to carry it back, but I knew what was good for you, and I +would not! See here, Priscilla, would you like to have a peek at this?" +And then Jerry-Jo put his burden down, and, returning to the boat, drew +from under the seat a book in a clean separate wrapper and held it out +toward her.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" The hands were as eager as of old.</p> + +<p>"What will you give for it?" A deep red mounted to the young fellow's +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Anything, Jerry-Jo."</p> + +<p>"A—kiss?"</p> + +<p>"Yes"—doubtfully; "yes."</p> + +<p>The book was in the outstretched hands, the hot kiss lay upon the smooth, +girlish neck, and then they looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"It—is <i>his</i> book?"</p> + +<p>"No. Yours—I sent for it, myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Jerry-Jo. And how did you know?"</p> + +<p>"I copied it from that one of his."</p> + +<p>Priscilla tore the wrappings asunder and saw that the book was a +duplicate of the one over which, long ago, she had loved and wept.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jerry-Jo," the voice faltered; "but I wish it—had the tear +spot."</p> + +<p>"That was <i>his</i> book; this is yours." An angry light flashed in +Jerry-Jo's eyes. He had arranged this surprise with great pains and had +used all his savings.</p> + +<p>"But it cannot be the same, Jerry-Jo. Thank you—but——"</p> + +<p>"Give us another kiss?" The young fellow begged.</p> + +<p>Priscilla drew back and held out the book.</p> + +<p>"No." She was ready to relinquish the poems, but she would not buy them.</p> + +<p>"Keep the book—it's yours."</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo scowled. And then he shouldered the box and ran up the path. +When he came back Priscilla was gone, and the spring day seemed +commonplace and dull to Jerry-Jo; the adventure was over. Priscilla had +filled her pails and had carried them and the book to the house. +Something had happened to her, also. She was out of tune with the +sunlight and warmth; she wanted to get close to life again and feel, as +she had earlier, the kinship and joy, but the mood had passed.</p> + +<p>It was after the dishes of the midday meal were washed that she bethought +her of the old shrine back near the woods. It was many a day since she +had been there—not since the autumn before—and she felt old and +different, but still she had a sudden desire to return to it and try +again the mystic rite she had practised when she was a little girl. It +was like going back to play, to be sure; all the sacredness was gone, but +the interest remained, and her yearning spurred her to her only resource.</p> + +<p>At two o'clock Nathaniel was off to a distant field, and Theodora +announced that she must walk to the village for a bit of "erranding." She +wanted Priscilla to join her, thinking it would please the girl, but +Priscilla shook her head and pleaded a weariness that was more mental +than physical. At three o'clock, arrayed in a fresh gown, over which hung +a red cape, Priscilla stole from the house and made her way to the +opening near the woods. As she drew close the power of suggestion +overcame the new sense of age and indifference; the witchery of the place +held her; the old charm reasserted itself; she was being hypnotized by +the Past. Tiptoeing to the niche in the rock she drew away the sheltering +boughs and branches she had placed there one golden September day. The +leaves had been red and yellow then; they were stiff and brown now. The +leering skull confronted her as it had in the past and changed her at +once to the devotee.</p> + +<p>Before the dead thing the live, lovely creature bowed gravely. After all, +had not the image, instead of God, answered her first prayer? Nathaniel's +heart had not been softened and school had not been permitted, but there +had been lessons given by the master when she told him of her new god. +How he had laughed, clapping his knees with his long, thin, white hands! +But he had taught her on hillside and woodland path. No one knew this but +themselves and the strange idol!</p> + +<p>A rapt look spread over Priscilla's face; the look of the worshipper who +could lose self in a passion. But this was no dread god that demanded +unlovely sacrifice. It was a glad creature that desired laughter, song, +and dance. Priscilla had seen to that. A repetition of her father's creed +would have been unendurable.</p> + +<p>"Skib, skib, skibble—de—de—dosh!"</p> + +<p>Again the deep and sweeping courtesy and chanting of the weird words. The +final "dosh!" held, in its low, fierce tone, all the significance of +abject adoration. With that "dosh" had the child Priscilla wooed the +favour and recognition of the god. It was a triumph of appeal.</p> + +<p>And then the dance began—the wild, fantastic steps full of grace and joy +and the fury and passion of youth. Round and round spun the slight form, +with arms over head or spread wide. The red cape floated, rising and +falling; the uplifted face changed with every moment's flitting thought. +It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan, and yet divine, +and through it all, panting and pulsing, sounded the strange, +incomprehensible words:</p> + +<p>"Skib, skib, skibble—de—de—dosh!"</p> + +<p>While the rite was at high tide a young fellow, lying prone under a +clump of trees beyond the open space, looked on, first in amaze mingled +with amusement, and then with delight and admiration. He had never +seen anything at once so heathenish and so exquisite. To one hampered +and restricted as he was in bodily freedom, the absolute grace was +marvellous, but the uncanny words and the girl's apparent seriousness +gave a touch of unreality to the scene. Presently, from sheer inability +to further control himself, the looker-on gave a laugh that rent the +stillness of the afternoon like a cruel shock.</p> + +<p>Priscilla, horrified, paused in the midst of a wild whirl and listened, +her eyes dilating, her nostrils twitching. She waited for another burst +that would make her understand.</p> + +<p>Having given vent to that one peal of mirth, Richard Travers pulled +himself to a sitting position, and, by so doing, presented his head and +shoulders to the indignant eyes of Priscilla Glenn.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried she; "how dare you!"</p> + +<p>And now Travers got rather painfully upon his feet, and, with fiddle +under one arm and book under the other, came forward into the open and +inclined his uncovered head. He was twenty then, fair and handsome, and +in his gray eyes shone that kindliness that was doomed later on to bring +him so much that was both evil and good.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon. I did not know I was on sacred ground. I just +happened here, you see, and I could not help the laugh; it was the only +compliment I could pay for anything so lovely—so utterly lovely."</p> + +<p>Priscilla melted at once and fear fled. Not for an instant did she +connect this handsome fellow with the crooked wrongdoer of the Hill +Place. Jerry-Jo's long-ago description had been too vivid to be +forgotten, and this stranger was one to charm and win confidence.</p> + +<p>"Will you—oh! please do—let me play for you? You dance like a nymph. Do +you know what a nymph is?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's the only thing that can dance like you; the only thing that +should ever be allowed to dance in the woods. Come, now, listen sharp, +and as I play, keep step."</p> + +<p>Leaning against a strong young hemlock, Dick Travers placed his fiddle +and struck into a giddy, tuneful thing as picturesque as the time and +occasion. With head bent to one side and eyes and lips smiling, Priscilla +listened until something within her caught and responded to the tripping +notes. At first she went cautiously, feeling her way after the enchanted +music, then she gained courage, and the very heart of her danced and +trembled in accord.</p> + +<p>"Fine! fine! Now—slower; see it's the nymph stepping this way and that! +Forward, so! Now!"</p> + +<p>And then, exhausted and laughing madly, Priscilla sank down upon a rock +near the musician, who, seeing her worn and panting, played on, without +a word, a sweet, sad strain that brought tears to the listener's +eyes—tears of absolute enjoyment and content. She had never heard music +before in all her bleak, colourless life, and Dick Travers was no mean +artist, in his way.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said presently, sitting down a few feet from her, "just +tell me who you are and what in the world prompts you to worship, so +adorably, that hideous brute over there?"</p> + +<p>Between fourteen and twenty lies a chasm of age and experience that +ensures patronage to one and dependence to the other. Travers felt aged +and protecting, but Priscilla grew impish and perverse; besides, she +always intuitively shielded her real self until she capitulated entirely. +This was a new play, a new comrade, but she must be cautious.</p> + +<p>"I—I have no name—he made me!" She nodded toward the grinning skull. +"On bright sunny afternoons in spring, when flowers and green things are +beginning to live, he lets me dance, once in a great while, so that I can +keep alive!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla, with this, gave such a beaming and mischievous smile that +Travers was bewitched.</p> + +<p>"You——" But he did not put his thought into words; he merely gave smile +for smile, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Did he teach you to dance?"</p> + +<p>"No. The dance is—is me! That's why he likes me. He's so dead that he +likes to see something that is alive."</p> + +<p>"The whole world would adore you could it see you as I just have!"</p> + +<p>Then Travers, with the artist's eye, wondered how dark hair could +possibly hold such golden tints, and how such a dark face could make +lovely the blue, richly lashed eyes. He knew she must be from Lonely +Farm—Jerry-Jo used to speak of her; lately he had said nothing, to be +sure, but this certainly must be the child who had once cried over a +book of his. Poor, little, temperamental beggar!</p> + +<p>"Come up and deliver!" Travers gave a laugh. "I'm Robin Hood and I want +you to explain yourself. Why do you bow down before that brazen and +evil-looking brute?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla hugged her knees in her clasped hands, and said, on the +defence:</p> + +<p>"He's the only god that answered my prayer. I tried father's God and—it +didn't work! Then I fixed up this one, and—it did!"</p> + +<p>"What was it you wanted?"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to learn things! I wanted to go to school. I prayed to have +father's heart softened, but it stayed—rocky. Then I began to worship +this"—the right hand waved toward the bleached and grinning skull—"and +my wish came true. I told the schoolmaster. Do you know Mr. Anton +Farwell?"</p> + +<p>"I've heard of him."</p> + +<p>"I told him I wanted to learn, and after he got through laughing he said +he'd been sent by my god to teach me all I wanted to know; but of course +he can't do that!"</p> + +<p>"Do what?" Travers was fascinated by the child's naïvety.</p> + +<p>"Teach me all I want to know. Why, I'm going to suffer and know many +things!"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" ejaculated Travers; "you won't mind if I laugh?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think there's anything to laugh at!" Priscilla held him sternly. +"Have you ever suffered?"</p> + +<p>The laugh died from Travers's face.</p> + +<p>"Suffered!" he repeated. "Yes! yes!"</p> + +<p>"Well, doesn't it pay—when you get what you want and know things?"</p> + +<p>"Why, see here, youngster—it does! You've managed to dig out of your +life quite a brilliant philosophy, though I suppose you do not know what +that is. It's holding to your ideal, the thing that seems most worth +while, and forcing everything else into line with that. Now, you see I +had a bad handicap—a clutch on me that made me a weak, sickly fellow, +but through it all I kept my ideal."</p> + +<p>Priscilla was listening bravely. She was following this thought as she +had the music; something in her was responding. She did not speak, and +Travers went on talking, more to himself than to her.</p> + +<p>"Always before the poor thing I really was, walked the fine thing I would +be. I <i>thought</i> myself straight and strong and clean. Lord! how it hurt +sometimes; but I grew, after a time, into something approaching the ideal +going on before me, thinking high and strong thoughts, forgetting the +meannesses and aches—do you understand?"</p> + +<p>This was a fairy story to the listener. Rigid and spellbound she replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes. And that's what I've been doing—and nobody knew. I've just been +working hard for that <i>me</i> of <i>me</i> that I always see. I don't care what +I have to suffer, but—" the throbbing words paused—"I'm going to know +what—it is all about!"</p> + +<p>"It?" Again Travers was bewildered and bound.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Life and me and what we mean. I'm not going to stay here; when the +lure of the States gets me I'm—going!"</p> + +<p>Things were getting too tense, and Travers yielded to a nervous impulse +to laugh again. This brought a frown to Priscilla's brow.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me!" he pleaded. "And now see here, little pagan, let us make +a compact. Let us keep our ideals; don't let anything take them from us. +Is it a go?"</p> + +<p>He stretched his hand out, and the small, brown one lay frankly in it.</p> + +<p>"And we'll come here and—and worship before that fiend, just you and I? +And we won't ever tell?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla nodded.</p> + +<p>"And now will you dance once more, just once?"</p> + +<p>The girl bounded from the rock, and before the bow struck the strings she +was poised and ready. Then it was on again, that strange, wild game. The +notes rang clear and true, and as true tripped the twinkling feet. With +head bent and eyes riveted on the graceful form, Travers urged her on by +word and laugh, and he did not heed a shadow which fell across the +sunlighted, open space, until Priscilla stopped short, and a deep voice +trembling with emotion roared one word:</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>There stood Nathaniel Glenn, his face twitching with anger and something +akin to fear. How much he had heard no one could tell, but he had heard +and seen enough to arouse alarm and suspicion. In his hand was a long +lash whip, and, as Priscilla did not move, he raised it aloft and sent it +snapping around the rigid figure.</p> + +<p>It did not touch her, but the act called forth all the resentment and +fierce indignation of the young fellow who looked on.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" he shouted. Then, because he sought for words to comfort and +could think of no others, he said to Priscilla, "Don't let them kill your +ideal; hold to it in spite of everything!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the words came slowly, defiantly, "I'm going to!"</p> + +<p>"Go!" Nathaniel was losing control. "Go—you!"</p> + +<p>Then, as if waking from sleep, the girl turned, and with no backward +look, went her way, Nathaniel following.</p> + +<p>Travers, exhausted from the excitement, stretched himself once more upon +the mossy spot from which Priscilla had roused him. He was sensitive to +every impression and quivering in every nerve.</p> + +<p>What he had witnessed turned him ill with loathing and contempt. +Brutality in any form was horrible to him, and the thought of the pretty, +spiritual child under the control of the coarse, stern man was almost +more than he could bear. Then memory added fuel to the present. It was +that man who had conjured up some kind of opposition to his mother—had +made living problems harder for her until she had won the confidence of +others. The man must be, Travers concluded, a fanatic and an ignoramus, +and to think of him holding power over that sprite of the woods!</p> + +<p>He could not quite see how he might help the girl, but, lying there, her +dancing image flitting before his pitying eyes, he meant to outwit the +rough father in some way, and bring into the child's life a bit of +brightness. Then he smiled and his easy good nature returned.</p> + +<p>"I'll get her to dance for me, never fear! I'll teach her to love music, +and I'll tell her stories. I must get her to explain about the lure of +the States. What on earth could the little beggar have meant? It sounded +as if she thought America had some sinister clutch on the Dominion. And +those infernal-sounding words!"</p> + +<p>Travers shook with laughter. "That '<i>dosh</i>' was about the most +blasphemous thing I ever listened to. In a short space of time that child +managed to cram in more new ideas, words, and acts than any one I've ever +met before. I shouldn't wonder if she proves a character."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>The day of warmth and song and dance changed to a cool evening. There was +a glowing sunset which faded into a clear, starry night.</p> + +<p>Dick Travers, encased in a heavy sweater, lingered, after the light +failed, on the broad piazza facing the still purpled sky, and looked out +toward the Georgian Bay, which was hidden from sight by the ridge of hill +through which the Fox and Secret Portages cut. The mood of the afternoon +had fallen, as had the day, into calmness and restfulness. The fiddle, +which was never far from Travers, lay now beside him on the deep porch +swing, and every few moments he took it up and began an air that broke +off almost at once, either to run into another, or into silence.</p> + +<p>"Choppy," muttered Doctor Ledyard as he sat across the hearth from his +hostess and looked now at her fair, tranquil face and then at the +cheerful fire of hemlock boughs.</p> + +<p>"He's always happiest when he's—choppy." Helen Travers smiled. "I wonder +why I take your words as I take your pills, without question?"</p> + +<p>"You know what's good for you."</p> + +<p>"And so you really think there is no doubt about Dick? He can enter +college this fall?"</p> + +<p>"As sure as any man can be. He'll always be a trifle lame probably, +though that will be less noticeable when he learns to forget the cane and +crutch periods; as for his health—it's ripping, for him!"</p> + +<p>"How wonderful you have been; what a miracle you have performed. When I +recall——"</p> + +<p>"Don't, Helen! It's poor business retracing a hard road unless you go +back to pick something up."</p> + +<p>"That's why—I must go back. Doctor Ledyard, I must tell you something! +Now that Dick's semi-exile and mine are to end in the common highway, he +and—you must know why I have done many things—will you listen?"</p> + +<p>From under Ledyard's shaggy brows his keen eyes flashed. There had been +a time when he had hoped Helen Travers would love him; he had loved +her since her husband's death, but he had never spoken, for he knew +intuitively that to do so would be to risk the only thing of which he +was, then, sure—her trusting friendship. He had not dared put that to +the test even for the greater hope. That was why he had been able to +share her lonely life in the Canadian wilds—she had never been disturbed +by a doubt of him. And this comradeship, safe and assured, was the one +luxury he permitted himself in a world where he was looked upon as a +hard, an almost cruel, man.</p> + +<p>"I do not want you to tell anything in order to explain your actions +now, or ever. I am confident that under all circumstances you would act +wisely. You are the most normal woman I ever knew."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. But I still must speak—more for Dick than for you. I need +your help for him."</p> + +<p>Outside, the fiddle was repeating again and again a nocturne that Helen +particularly loved.</p> + +<p>"Dick is not—my son!" she said quickly and softly from out the shadows. +She was rarely abrupt, and her words startled Ledyard into alertness. He +got up and drew his chair close to hers.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?" he whispered, keeping his eyes upon her lowered face.</p> + +<p>"I said—Dick is not my son."</p> + +<p>"And—whose is he—may I ask?"</p> + +<p>There was a tenseness in the question. Now that he saw the gravity of the +confession Ledyard wished beyond all else to cut quick and deep and then +bind up the wound.</p> + +<p>"He is the child of—my husband, and—another woman."</p> + +<p>In the hush that followed, Dick's fiddle, running now through a delicious +strain of melody, seemed like a current bearing them on.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had better—tell me," Ledyard was saying, and his words +blended strangely with the tune. "Yes, I am sure you ought to tell me."</p> + +<p>Helen Travers, sitting in her low wicker chair, did not move. Her +delicate face was resting on the tips of her clasped hands, and her long, +loose, white gown seemed to gather and hold the red glow of the fire.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I have done Dick a bitter wrong, but at first, you know, even +you thought he could not live and so it would not have mattered, and then +I—I learned to love the helpless little chap as women of my sort do who +have to make their own lives as best they may. He clung to me so +desparately, and, you see, as he grew older I either had to accept his +belief in me or—or—take his father from him. They were such close +friends, Dick's father and he! And now—I must lay everything low, and I +am wondering what will come of it all. He is such a strange fellow; our +life apart has left him—well, so different! How will he take it?"</p> + +<p>Whatever her own personal sorrow was, Helen Travers made no moan, exacted +no sympathy. She had come alone to the parting of the ways, and she had +thought only for the boy whom she had mothered tenderly and successfully. +Ledyard did not interrupt the gentle flow of her thoughts. There was +time; he would not startle or hurry her, although her first statement had +shocked and surprised him beyond measure.</p> + +<p>"I've always thought of myself as like one of those poor Asiatic +hornbills," she was saying. "It seems to me that all my life long some +one has walled me up in a nice, safe nest and fed me through my longings +and desires. I cannot get to life first hand. I'm not stupid exactly, but +I am terribly limited." Helen paused, then went on more rapidly: "First +it was my father. He and I travelled after mother's death continually, +and alone. He educated me and interpreted life for me; he was a man of +the world, I suppose, but he managed to keep me most unworldly wise. Of +course I knew, abstractly, the lights and shadows; but I wonder if you +will believe me when I tell you that, until after my marriage, I never +suspected that—that certain codes of honour and dishonour had place in +the lives of those closest to me? The evil of the world was classified +and pigeon-holed for me. I even had ambition to get out of my walled-up +condition and help some mystical people, detached and far from my safe, +clean corner. Father left me more money than was good for any young +woman, and my simple impulse was to use it properly."</p> + +<p>"You were very young?" Ledyard interrupted.</p> + +<p>Helen Travers shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not very. I was twenty-four when I married. I had never had but one +intimate friend in my life, and to her I went at my father's death. It +was her brother I married—John Travers."</p> + +<p>Ledyard nodded his head; he knew of the Traverses—the older generation.</p> + +<p>"This thing concerning Dick occurred some three or four years before my +marriage. My wedding was a very quiet one; it was not reported, and that +accounted for Dick's mother—Elizabeth Thornton—not knowing of it.</p> + +<p>"It seems that there had been an alliance between John Travers and—and +Dick's mother, and it had been terminated some time before he met me, by +mutual consent. There was the child—Dick. The mother took him. There was +no question of money: there was enough for them, but she had told John +that should anything arise, such as illness or disaster, she would call +upon him. They had sworn that to each other.</p> + +<p>"Well, my own baby came a year after my marriage and died a month later. +When I was least able to bear the shock, the call came from Elizabeth +Thornton. John had to tell me. I shall never forget his face as he did +it. I realized that his chief concern was for me, and even in all the +wreck and ruin I could but honour him for his bravery and sincerity. I +think he believed I would understand, but I never did; I never shall. The +shock was more surprise than moral resentment. I could not believe at +first that such a thing could possibly happen to—one of my own. I felt +as if a plague had fallen upon me, and I shrank from every eye, from +every touch with the world.</p> + +<p>"Doctor Ledyard, you can understand, I hope, but John Travers was not a +bad man, and that girl, Dick's mother, was good. Yes; that's the only +word to use, strange as it seems to me even after all these years. You +see, she was not a hornbill. She came in touch with life at first hand; +she took from life what she wanted; she had, what were to me, unheard-of +ideas about love and the free gift of self, and yet she never meant to +hurt any one; and she had kept herself, amid all the confusion, the +gentlest and sweetest of souls.</p> + +<p>"When she sent for John she was dying and she did not know what to do +about the boy. She had no family—no near friend.</p> + +<p>"I went with my husband to see her. There did not seem to be anything +else to do. I had no feeling; it was plain duty. Even with the touch of +death upon her, Elizabeth Thornton was the most beautiful woman I have +ever seen. I cannot describe the sensation she made upon me; but she was +like an innocent, pure child who had played with harmful and soiled toys +but had come wearily to the day's end, herself unsullied.</p> + +<p>"When she knew about me she was broken-hearted. She wept and called to +little Dick, who sat in a small chair by her couch:</p> + +<p>"'Oh! little son, we could have managed, couldn't we? We would not have +hurt any one for the world, would we, sonny?' And the boy got up and +soothed her as a man might have done, and he was only a little creature. +I think I loved him from the moment I saw him shielding that poor, dying +mother from her own folly. 'Course, mummy, course!' he repeated over and +again. Then he looked at me with the eyes of my own dead baby. Both +children were startlingly like the father. The look pleaded for mercy +from me to them—John, the mother, and the little fellow himself. And I, +who had vaguely meant to help the world some day, began—with them! Just +for a little time after Elizabeth Thornton's death I became human, or +perhaps inhuman. I resented the wrong that had been done me; I wanted to +fling John and the child away from me; but then a sense of power rallied +me. I had never tasted it before. I could cast the helpless pair from me, +or—I could save them from the world and the world's hideous pity for me. +I accepted the burden laid upon me. I think John thought I would forget, +would forgive. I cannot explain—my sort of woman is never understood +by—well, John's sort of man. I am afraid he grew to have a contempt for +me, but I lived on loving them both, but never becoming able to meet +John's hope of me. I knew he was often lonely—I have pitied him +since—but I could not help being what I was.</p> + +<p>"I tried, but it was no use. We lived abroad for years, and little Dick +forgot—I am sure he forgot—his mother, and when I felt secure I gave +him all, all the passion and devotion of my life.</p> + +<p>"John died abroad; I came home with my crippled boy; came home to—you. +That is all!"</p> + +<p>Ledyard bent and laid a handful of boughs upon the fire. The room was +cold and cheerless, and the still, white figure in the chair seemed the +quiet, chill heart of it all. And yet—how she had loved and laboured for +the boy! Was she passionless or had her passion been killed while at +white heat?</p> + +<p>"And—and I suppose Dick must know?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Dick must know."</p> + +<p>There was no sternness, but there was determination in the strong, even +voice. Then:</p> + +<p>"Helen, let me do this for you!"</p> + +<p>For a moment the uplifted eyes faltered and fell away from the man's +face. Very faintly the words came:</p> + +<p>"God bless you! I could not bear to see—him fail me. If he must—fail, +I cannot see him until—afterward."</p> + +<p>The blaze rose higher, and the dark room was a background for that +deathlike form before the hearth.</p> + +<p>Ledyard left the room silently, and a moment later Helen Travers heard +his heavy footfall on the porch outside. Presently the erratic violin +playing ceased and there seemed no sound on the face of the earth.</p> + +<p>After what seemed hours, Pine, the guide, entered the room to replenish +the fire, and Helen told him he need not light the lamps. After his going +another aching silence followed through which, at last, stole the +consciousness that she was not alone. Some one had come into the room +from a long window opening on the piazza. Helen dared not look, for if it +were Ledyard she would know that things were very bad indeed. Then came +the slightly dragging step that she had learned to be so grateful for +after the helplessness of crippled childhood. Still she did not move, nor +deeply hope. The boy was kind, oh! so tenderly kind, he might only have +come because he must!</p> + +<p>The red glow of the fire made the woman's form by the hearth vividly +distinct, and toward that Dick Travers went as if led by a gleam through +a new and strange experience. He knelt by her side and, for a moment, +buried his face against her clasped hands; then he looked up and she saw +only intensified love and trust upon his young face. She waited for him +to speak, her heart was choking her.</p> + +<p>"You thought, dear, that I did not know—that I had forgotten? I wonder +if any lonely, burdened little chap could forget—what came before you +lifted the load and taught me to be a—child? Oh! she was so sweet; such +a playfellow. I realize it now even though she has faded into something +like a shadowy dream. But I recall, too, the loneliness; the fear that +she might leave me alone with no one to care for me. I can remember her +fear, too; always the fear that one of us might leave the other alone. +The recollection will always stand out in my memory. I shall never forget +her nor her sweetness. Afterward you came and my father. Only lately have +I understood all of—that part of my life and yours—but I knew he was my +father, and I wondered about you, because I could <i>not</i> forget—my +mother!</p> + +<p>"I learned to love you out of my great need and out of yours, too, I +realize now, and slowly, far too early, I saw that the happiest thing I +could do for you, who had given me so much, was to seem to forget and +rest only on one thought—you were my mother! Can I make you understand, +mother, what you are in my life—to-night?"</p> + +<p>He kissed the cold hands clutching his hot ones, and with that touch the +barrier broke down forever between them. Travers took her in his arms, +but she did not burden his young strength as the earlier mother had done. +Even in her abandon, they supported each other bravely.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The days that followed were busy ones. Dick's tutor came from New York, +plans were laid, and there was small opportunity, just then, for the +red-rock shrine.</p> + +<p>"You see," Dick said to Ledyard one afternoon, "I've never voiced it +before—it seemed presumptuous—but now that I'm going to have the life +of a fellow, I can choose a fellow's career. I want, more than anything +else, to be a physician."</p> + +<p>Ledyard's eyes flashed, but he lowered his lids.</p> + +<p>"It's a devil of a life, boy."</p> + +<p>"I think it's the finest of all."</p> + +<p>"No hours you can call your own; never daring to ask for the common +things a man cares for. You see, women are mostly too jealous and small +to understand a doctor's demands. They usually raise hell sooner or +later. I had a friend whose wife used to look through the keyhole of his +consulting-room door. A patient tripped over her once and it nearly cost +my friend his practice. Doctors are only half human anyway, and women +can't go halves with their husbands."</p> + +<p>Dick laughed.</p> + +<p>"Between a wife and a profession," he said, "give me the profession."</p> + +<p>"Besides," Ledyard went on; "you get toughened and brutal; most of us +drink, when we don't do something worse."</p> + +<p>"You don't."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I do know, and I'm sure you wouldn't let any one else say that about +your associates; they're the noblest ever and you know it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, we're bound and gagged, and that's a fact. We're not given much +leeway. We are led up to a case and forced to carry out the rules. While +we're doctors we can't be men."</p> + +<p>Dick recalled that years later with a bitter sense of its truth!</p> + +<p>"All the same, if the profession will have me, I'll have it and thank +God. When I think of—well, of the little cuss I was, and of you—why, +I tell you, I cannot get too soon into harness. I'd like to specialize, +too. I've even gone so far as that."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! In what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, women and children, principally—putting them straight and strong, +you know."</p> + +<p>"Umph," grunted Ledyard. "Well, at the first you'll probably be thankful +to get any old case that needs tinkering."</p> + +<p>Dick Travers did not see Priscilla again that summer. After a while he +went to the rocks, and once he laid sacrilegious hands on the strange god +with a longing to smash the hideous skull, but in the end he left it and, +after a time, forgot the girl he had played for, even forgot the +fantastic dance, for his thoughts were of sterner stuff.</p> + +<p>There were guests at the Hill Place, too, for the first time that year, +and some entertainment. There were fishing, and in due season, hunting, +at which Ledyard excelled, and the family returned to the States earlier +than usual, owing to Dick's affairs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>Nathaniel Glenn had said some terrible things in Priscilla's presence the +evening of the day when he drove her before him while Richard Travers +implored her to hold to her ideal. Fortunately, youth spared Priscilla +from a full understanding of her father's words, but she caught the drift +of his thought. She was convinced that he feared greatly for her here on +earth, and had grave doubts as to her soul's ultimate salvation. There +was that within her, so he explained, which, unless curbed and corrected, +would cast her into eternal damnation! Those were Nathaniel's words.</p> + +<p>"She looked a very devil as she danced and smirked at that strange +fellow," so had Glenn described the scene; "a man she says she had never +laid eyes on before! A daughter of Satan she seemed, with all the +witchcraft of her sort." To Nathaniel, that which he could not +understand, was wrong.</p> + +<p>Theodora spoke not a word. Certain facts from all the evidence stood +forth and alarmed her as deeply—though not as bitterly—as they did her +husband. There certainly was a daring and brazenness in a young girl +carrying on so before a total stranger. In all the conversation the name +of the stranger was not mentioned, and oddly enough Priscilla did not +even then connect her friend of the music and laughter with the boy of +the Hill Place. How could she, when Jerry-Jo's description still stood +unchallenged in her mind? Indeed, the stranger did not seem wholly of the +earth, earthy. She had accepted him as another phase evolved by the +mysterious rite—a new revelation of the strange god.</p> + +<p>From all the torrent of misinterpretation Nathaniel gave vent to, one +startling impression remained in Priscilla's mind. Sitting in the bare, +unlovely kitchen of the farmhouse, with her troubled parents confronting +her, a great wave of realization overpowered the girl. She could never +make them understand! There was no need to try. She did not really belong +to them, or they to her, and she must—get away!</p> + +<p>That was it, of course. The lure had caught her. They all felt as she +was now feeling—the Hornbys, all the boys and men who left Kenmore. +Something always drove them to see they must go, and that was what the +lure meant.</p> + +<p>Priscilla laughed.</p> + +<p>As usual, this angered Nathaniel beyond control.</p> + +<p>"You—laugh—you! Why do you laugh?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla leaned back in her hard wooden chair.</p> + +<p>"The lure's got me!" she panted.</p> + +<p>"The—lure?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It means getting away. You have to follow the lure and find your +true place. Some people are put in the wrong place—then the lure gets +them!"</p> + +<p>At this Theodora gave a moan of understanding. They had driven the child +too far, been too hard upon her, and the impulse to fly from the love +that was seeking to hold her was the one thing to be avoided.</p> + +<p>"I'm tired of things. Once I wanted to go to school, but you wouldn't let +me." The blazing eyes were fixed upon Nathaniel. "You're always trying +to—to hold me back from—from—my life! I want to go away somewhere! +I want"—a half-sob shook the fierce, young voice—"I want to be part +of—things, and you—you won't let me! I hate this—this place; I'm +choking to death!"</p> + +<p>And with this Priscilla got up and flung her arms over her head, while +she ejaculated fiercely: "I want to be—doshed!"</p> + +<p>The effect of this outburst upon the two listeners was tremendous. +Theodora recognized with blinding terror that her daughter was no longer +a child! The knowledge was like a stroke that left her paralyzed. What +could she hope to do with, and for, this new, strange creature in whose +young face rising passion and rebellion were suddenly born? Nathaniel was +awed, too, but he managed to utter the command: "Leave the room, hussy!"</p> + +<p>When the parents were alone they took stock of the responsibility that +was laid upon them. Helplessly Theodora began to cry. She could no more +cope with this situation than a baby. She had never risen above or beyond +the dead level of Kenmore life, and surely no Kenmore woman had ever +borne so unnatural a child. She feared hopelessly and tremblingly.</p> + +<p>With Nathaniel it was different. He was a hard man who had forced +himself, as he had others, along the one grim path, but he had the male's +inheritance of understanding of certain traits and emotions. Had any one +suggested to him that his girl had derived from him—not her colourless +mother—the desire for excitement through the senses, he would have flung +the thought madly from him. Men were men; women were women! Even if +temptation came to a girl, only a bad, an evil-natured girl would +recognize it and succumb. His daughter, Nathaniel firmly believed, was +marked for destruction, and he was frightened and aroused not only for +Priscilla herself but for his reputation and position. He had known +similar temptation; had overcome it. He understood, or thought he did!</p> + +<p>He gave the girl no benefit of doubt; his mind conceived things that +never had occurred. He believed she had often met the young fellow from +the Hill Place. God alone knew what had gone before!</p> + +<p>"What shall we do?" sobbed Theodora. "We cannot make a prisoner of her; +we cannot watch her every move—and she's only a bit over fourteen!"</p> + +<p>Had the girl died that night Nathaniel would not have mourned her, he +would have known only relief and gratitude.</p> + +<p>"She was unwelcomed," he muttered to his weeping wife; "and she has +become a curse to us. It lies with us to turn the punishment into our +souls' good; but what can we do for her?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla did not die that night. She slept peacefully and happily with +the red, pulsing planet over the hemlock shining faithfully upon her. The +next day she reappeared before her parents with a cloudless face and a +willingness to make such amends as could be brought about without too +much self-abnegation. In the broad light of day the mother could not hold +to the horrors of the evening before. She had been nervous and +overwrought; it wasn't so bad as they had thought!</p> + +<p>"I want you to go erranding," she said to Priscilla soon after the midday +meal and by way of propitiation. "It's one by the clock now. Given an +hour to go, another to return, and a half hour for the buying, you should +be back by four at the latest."</p> + +<p>Priscilla looked laughingly up at her mother, "Funny, little mother," she +said; "he's made you afraid of me. Hadn't you better tie a string to my +foot?" But all the time the girl was thinking. "An hour for both going +and coming will be enough, and that will leave an hour for the +schoolmaster."</p> + +<p>Aloud she said: "I was fiercely angry last night, mother, for he read me +wrong and would not believe me, but it made me feel the <i>lure</i>; it really +did."</p> + +<p>"You must never speak so again, child," Theodora replied, thinking she +was impressing the girl; "and, Priscilla, what did you mean by saying you +wanted to be—be doshed? That was the most unsanctified word I ever +heard. What does it mean? Where did you learn it?"</p> + +<p>At this Priscilla doubled over with laughter but managed to say:</p> + +<p>"Why, it means just—doshed! Haven't you ever wanted to be doshed, +mother, when you were young, and before father took the dosh out of +you?"</p> + +<p>Theodora was again overcome by former fears, and to confirm her terror +Priscilla sprang toward her with outstretched, gripping fingers and wide, +eager eyes.</p> + +<p>"It means," she breathed, advancing upon her mother's retreating form, +"it means skib, skib, skibble—de—de—dosh!"</p> + +<p>At this she had her mother by the shoulders and was seeking to kiss the +affrighted and appalled face.</p> + +<p>Theodora escaped her, and realized that a changeling had indeed entered +her home. An unknown element was here. It was as if, having been +discovered, Priscilla felt she no longer needed to hide her inner self, +but was giving it full sway.</p> + +<p>If they could only have known that the spring of imagination and joy +had been touched in the girl and merely the madness of youth and the +legitimate yearning for expression moved her! But Theodora did not +understand and she tried to be stern.</p> + +<p>"You are to be back in this house at four!" she cried; "at quarter after +at the latest."</p> + +<p>So Priscilla started forth. The mother watched her from the doorway. +Suspicion was in her heart; she feared the girl would turn toward the +woods; she was prepared for that, but instead, the flying figure made for +the grassy road leading to Kenmore and was soon lost to sight.</p> + +<p>Three miles of level road, much of it smooth, moss-covered rock, was +easy travelling for nimble feet and a glad heart. And Priscilla was +the gladdest creature afield that day. Impishly she was enjoying the +sensation she had created. It appealed to her dramatic sense and animal +enjoyment. In some subtle fashion she realized she had balked and +defeated her father—she was rather sorry about her mother—but that +could be remedied later on. There was no doubt that she had the whip hand +of Nathaniel at last, and the subconscious attitude of defiance she +always held toward her father was strengthened by the knowledge that +he was unjustly judging her.</p> + +<p>There were many things of interest in Kenmore that only limited time +prevented Priscilla from investigating. She longed to go to the jail and +see if the people had prevailed upon old Jerry McAlpin to discharge +himself. She admired Jerry's spirit!</p> + +<p>She wanted to call upon Mrs. Hornby and question her about Jamsie, her +last boy, who had succumbed to the lure of the States. She longed to know +the symptoms of one attacked by the lure. Then there was the White Fish +Lodge—she did so want to visit Mrs. McAdam. The annual menace of taking +Mrs. McAdams' license from her was man's talk just then, and Mrs. McAdam +was so splendid when her rights were threatened. On the village Green +she annually defended her position like a born orator. Priscilla had +heard her once and had never got over her admiration for the little, thin +woman who rallied the men to her support with frantic threats as to her +handling of their rights unless they helped her fight her battle against +a government bent upon taking the living from a "God-be-praised +widow-woman with two sons to support."</p> + +<p>It had all been so exactly to Priscilla's dramatic taste that she with +difficulty restrained herself from calling at the White Fish.</p> + +<p>There was a good hour to her credit when the erranding was finished and +the time needed for the home run set aside, so to the little cabin, built +beside the schoolhouse, she went with heavily loaded arms and an +astonishingly light heart.</p> + +<p>Since the day when Anton Farwell had undertaken Priscilla's +enlightenment, asserting that he had been ordained to do so by her god, +he had had an almost supernatural influence upon her thought. For her, +he was endowed with mystery, and, with the subtle poetry of the lonely +young, she deafened her ears to any normal explanation of the man.</p> + +<p>Reaching the cabin, she pushed gently against the door, knowing that if +it opened, Kenmore was free to enter. Farwell was in and, when Priscilla +stood near him, seemed to travel back from a far place before he saw her. +Farwell was an old-young man; he cultivated the appearance of age, but +only the very youthful were deceived. His long, dark hair fell about his +thin face lankly, and it was an easy matter, by dropping his head, to +hide his features completely.</p> + +<p>He was tall and, from much stooping over books or the work of his garden, +was round-shouldered. When he looked you fully in the face, which he +rarely did, it was noticed that his eyes were at once childishly friendly +and deathly sad.</p> + +<p>The older people of Kenmore had ceased to wonder about him. Having +accepted him, they let matters drop. To the children, to all helpless +animals, he was an enduring solace and power. When all else failed they +looked to him for solution. For this had Priscilla come.</p> + +<p>"To be sure!" cried Farwell at length. "It's Priscilla Glenn. Bad child! +It's many a day since we had a lesson. There! there! no excuses. Sit down +and—own up!"</p> + +<p>While he was speaking Farwell replenished the wood on the fire and +brushed the ashes from the hearth. Priscilla, in a chair, sat upright and +rather breathlessly wondered how she could manage all she wanted to say +and hear in the small space of time that was hers.</p> + +<p>Anton's back was toward her when she uttered her first question and the +words brought him to an upright position, facing her at once.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Farwell, where did you come from—I mean before the wreck?"</p> + +<p>For a moment the master looked as if about to spring forward to lock the +door and bar the windows. Real alarm was in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who told you to ask that?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"No one. No one has to tell me questions; I have more of my own than I +can ask. I never thought before about you, Mr. Farwell, we're so used to +you, but now it's because of <i>me</i>. I want to know. Somebody has got to +help me—I feel it coming again."</p> + +<p>"Feel what coming?" Farwell sat limply down in the chair he had lately +occupied.</p> + +<p>"Why, the lure. It comes to the boys, Mr. Farwell. They just get it and +go off to the States, and it's come to me! I've always known it would. +You see, I've got to go away; not just now, but some time. I'm going out +through the Secret Portage. I'm going away, away to find my real place. +I'm going to do something—out where the States are. I hoped you came +from there; could tell me—how to go about it. Do you know, I feel as if +I had been dropped in Kenmore just to rest before I went on!"</p> + +<p>Farwell looked at the girl and something new and changed about her +startled him as it had her parents, but, being wiser, he felt no +antagonism. It was an amazing, an interesting thing. The girl had +suddenly developed: that was all. She was eager to try her wings at a +longer flight than any of her sex in Kenmore had ever before dreamed. It +was amusing even if it were serious.</p> + +<p>Years before, Farwell had discovered the girl's keen mind and her +quaint originality. As much for his own pleasure as her advantage he +had taught her as he had some of the other village children, erratically, +inconsequently, and here she was now demanding that he fit her out with +a chart for deep-sea sailing.</p> + +<p>How could he permit her to harbour, even for an idle moment, the idea of +leaving her shelter and going away? At this the thin, dark face grew +rigid and stern. But too well the man knew the folly of setting up active +opposition to any young thing straining against the door of a cage. +Better open the door even if a string on the leg or a clipped wing had +to be resorted to!</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see the States?" The tense voice was imploring.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Why do you wish to go there?"</p> + +<p>"Why do the boys?"</p> + +<p>This was baffling.</p> + +<p>"Well, there was Mrs. Hornby's oldest boy, he went to the States, got the +worst of it, and came home to die. He did not find them happy places."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but all the other Hornbys went just the same, even Jamsie. It's the +chance, you know, the chance to try what's in you, even if you <i>do</i> come +home and die! You never have a chance in Kenmore; and I don't mean to be +like my mother—like the other women. You see, Mr. Farwell, I'm willing +to suffer, but I <i>am</i> going to know all I want to, and I am going to find +a place where I fit in, if I can."</p> + +<p>So small and ignorant did the girl look, yet so determined and keen, that +Farwell grew anxious. Evidently Nathaniel had borne too hard upon her, +borne to the snapping point, and she had, in her wild fashion, caught the +infection of the last going away—Jamsie Hornby's. It was laughable, but +pathetic.</p> + +<p>"What could you do?" Farwell leaned forward and gazed into the strange +blue eyes fixed upon him.</p> + +<p>"Dance. Have you ever seen me dance? Do you want to?" She was prepared to +prove herself.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord! no, no!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I can dance. If some one would play for me—play on—on a fiddle, I +could dance all day and night. Wouldn't people pay for that?"</p> + +<p>This was serious business. By some subtle suggestion Priscilla Glenn had +introduced into the bare, cleanly room an atmosphere of danger, a curious +sense of unreality and excitement.</p> + +<p>"Yes—they do pay," Farwell said slowly; "but where in heaven's name did +you get such ideas?"</p> + +<p>The girl looked impishly saucy. She was making a sensation again and, +while Anton Farwell was not affected as her parents had been, he was +undoubtedly impressed.</p> + +<p>"It's this way: You have to sell what you've got until you get something +better. There isn't an earthly thing I can do but dance now; of course I +can learn. Don't you remember the nice story about the old woman who went +to market her eggs for to sell? Master Farwell, I'm like her, and my +dancing is my—egg!"</p> + +<p>She was laughing now, this unreasoning, unreasonable girl, and she was +laughing more at Farwell's perplexity than at her own glibness. She must +soon go, her time was growing short, but she was enjoying herself +immensely.</p> + +<p>Looking at her, Farwell was suddenly convinced of one overpowering fact: +Priscilla Glenn was destined for—living! Hers was one of those natures +that flash now and then upon a commonplace existence, a strange soul from +an unknown port, never resting until it finds its way back.</p> + +<p>"Poor little girl!" whispered Farwell, and then he talked to her.</p> + +<p>Would she let him go to her father and mother?</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" questioned Priscilla, and she told him of the +experience in the woods. "Father saw only evil when it was the most +beautiful thing that ever happened."</p> + +<p>Farwell saw a wider stretch and more danger.</p> + +<p>"But I will try, and anyway, Priscilla, if I promise to help you get +ready, will you promise me to do nothing without consulting me?"</p> + +<p>This the girl was ready enough to do. She was restless and defiant under +her new emotion, but intuitively she had sought Farwell because he had +before aided her and sympathized with her. Yes, she would confide in him.</p> + +<p>That night Farwell called at Lonely Farm. Followed by his two lean, ugly +sledge dogs he made his way to the barn where Nathaniel was doing the +evening's work. While the men talked, the dogs, behind the building, +fought silently and ferociously. Farwell had fed one before he left home +and a bitter jealousy lay between the animals. It was almost more than +one might hope that the master could influence Glenn or change his mind, +but Farwell did bring to bear an argument that, because nothing else +presented itself, swayed the father.</p> + +<p>"You cannot get the same results from all children," Farwell said, +looking afar and smiling grimly; "there's no use trying to make an +abnormal child into a normal one. Priscilla is like a wild thing of the +woods. You may tame her, if you go about it right; you'll never be able +to force her. She's kind and affectionate, but she cannot be fettered or +caged, without mischief being done. Better let her think she is having +her own way, or—she may take it!"</p> + +<p>"I'll break her will!" muttered Glenn.</p> + +<p>"And if you do—what then?"</p> + +<p>"She'll fall into line—women do! Their life takes it out of them. Once I +get her on the right track, she'll go straight enough. There's no other +way for her sex, thank God!"</p> + +<p>"She'd be a poor, despicable thing if she was cowed." Contempt rang in +Farwell's voice.</p> + +<p>"She'd serve her purpose." Glenn was so angry that he became brutal. +"Spirit ain't needed for her job."</p> + +<p>"Purpose? Job?" Farwell repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Child-bearing; husband-serving. If they take to it naturally +they're all the better off; if they have to be brought to terms—well, +then——"</p> + +<p>Gradually the truth dawned upon Farwell, and his thin face flushed, while +in his heart he pitied Theodora Glenn and Priscilla.</p> + +<p>"I wish I'd kept to my first ideas!" Glenn was saying surlily, "and never +let the limb learn of you or another. I gave her her head and here we +are!"</p> + +<p>"Had she been taught regularly by some one better fitted than I she would +have done great credit to you. She has a bright mind and a vivid +imagination."</p> + +<p>To this Glenn made no response, but the energy with which he applied the +brush to his horse caused the animal to rear dangerously.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," Farwell continued; "better loosen the rein and let her run +herself out—she may settle happily after a bit. If you don't, she may +run farther than you know."</p> + +<p>"Run? Run where?" Nathaniel, safe from the horse's heels, glared at +Farwell.</p> + +<p>"To the States. There is no sex line on the border."</p> + +<p>"But there's good, plain law. I'd have her back and well cowed, if she +attempted that!"</p> + +<p>And then Farwell played his card.</p> + +<p>"See here, Mr. Glenn, you do not want to drive this girl of yours to—to +hell! Of course there is law and of course you have the whip hand while +Priscilla is in your clutch, but with a wit like hers, if she slipped +across the border she could lose herself so completely that neither your +hate nor legal power could ever find her. Do you want to drive her to +such lengths?"</p> + +<p>Some of the truth of what Farwell was saying dashed Glenn's temper with +fear. Hard and cruel as he was, he was not devoid of affection of a +clammy sort, and for an instant Priscilla as a helpless girl wandering +among strangers replaced Priscilla, the rebellious daughter, and pity +moved him.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you suggest?" he asked grudgingly.</p> + +<p>"Simply this: You can trust me. Good Lord you surely can trust me with +her! Let me teach her and bring a little diversion into her life. What +she wants is what all young things want—freedom and fun—pure, simple +fun. Don't let her think you are expecting evil of her; let her alone!"</p> + +<p>The extent of Glenn's confusion may be estimated by the fact that he +permitted Priscilla thereafter to go, when she chose, to Kenmore and +learn of Farwell what Farwell chose to give her, and, for the first time +in the girl's life, she felt a glow of appreciation toward her father.</p> + +<p>With this new freedom she became happier, less restless, and her +admiration for Farwell knew no bounds.</p> + +<p>The schoolmaster managed to procure a violin and laboriously practised +upon it until an almost forgotten gift was somewhat restored. He did not +play as Travers did—he had only his ear to depend upon; he had never +been well taught—but his music sufficed to accompany Priscilla's nimble +feet, and it gave Farwell himself an added interest in his dull life.</p> + +<p>"She'll marry Jerry-Jo McAlpin some day," the schoolmaster thought at +times; "and have a brood of half-breeds—no quarter-breeds—and all this +joy and gladness will become a blurred, or blotted-out, background. Good +God!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. McAdam of the White Fish Lodge came out upon the village Green one +evening in late August and, in a loud voice, hailed Jerry McAlpin:</p> + +<p>"I've heard it said," called she, "that you, you Jerry McAlpin, are not +against the taking away of my license; not against the making of Kenmore +a teetotal town!"</p> + +<p>There was menace in the high-pitched voice; warning in the accusation. +But Jerry had not taken a drop to drink since his self-releasement from +jail (after an apology from Hornby), and he was uncannily clear headed.</p> + +<p>"I've said that same!" he replied, and stopped short in his walk.</p> + +<p>Two or three other men, followed by dogs, paused to listen. Then a boat, +coming in loaded with fish, tied up to the wharf, and the crew, leaning +over the sides, waited for developments.</p> + +<p>"And for why?" called Mary, hands on hips and her sharp eyes blazing.</p> + +<p>"For this: The drink turns us mad! I'm late finding it out, but I've +found it! It sent me to jail with my wits all afire. My boy drank that +night, drank like a young beast, and lay on the floor of the cabin, they +tell me, after I went away; and he only sixteen, and his dead uncle stark +there beside him for company!"</p> + +<p>By this time a goodly gathering was on the Green, and Mary was in her +element.</p> + +<p>"And so," she said calmly, waxing eloquent as her power grew, "you and +the like of you would take an honest woman's living from her, and she +a God-be-praised widow at that, because you can't control the beast in +yourselves and can't train the cubs of your kennels!"</p> + +<p>This was going to great lengths, and many a listener who sided with Mary +was chilled by her offensive words.</p> + +<p>"Come! come!" warned Hornby, the father of the recently lured Jamsie, +"them ain't exactly womanly terms, are they?"</p> + +<p>But Mary was on her high horse. Availing herself of the safety her sex +secured for her, she struck left and right without grace or favour, and +her audience gaped while they listened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know! 'Tis this year a dry town with me ruined, and it's next year +a wet town with McAlpin, Hornby, or another creature in trousers taking +my place; and after that there will be no more dry town for ever and +ever! It's not morals you are after, but a man-controlled tavern. Blast +ye!" A sneer marked Mary's thin, dark face. "You want your drinks and +your freedom, but you say you fear for your lads. Shame on you! Have +I no lads?"</p> + +<p>Silence.</p> + +<p>"Have I not trained them in the way they should go? Do I fear for them?" +A grave silence, and McAlpin glared at Hornby, while an irreverent youth, +with a fish dangling from his hands, laughed and muttered:</p> + +<p>"Like gorrems!"</p> + +<p>"Play a man's part, Jerry McAlpin. 'Tis not for Jerry-Jo you fear; it's +my business you'd get from me, and you know it! Teach that lad of yours +to be decent, as I've trained mine. I have no fear for my boys! I know +what I'm talking about, and I tell you now, if my lads were like yours +I'd fling the business over, but I don't see why a decent woman, and her +a God-be-praised widow, should lose her living because you can't train +your brats in the way they should go. But this is mine! If you don't +stand by me and swear to do it here and now, it's not another drink one +of you shall get in my place till after things are settled."</p> + +<p>This was going farther than Mary McAdam had ever gone before. She had +threatened dire restrictions against them who failed to support her cause +should her cause be won in spite of them; she had even hinted at cash +payments to insure her against want if, possibly, her license was +revoked, but this shutting down upon human rights before election came +off was upsetting to the last degree. Hornby looked at McAlpin and +McAlpin dropped his eyes; there was a muttering and a grumbling, and a +general feeling prevailed that every man should be his own keeper and +the guardian of his own sons, and it would be a bitter wrong against a +God-be-praised widow to let family affairs ruin her business.</p> + +<p>In the end Mary McAdam, with a manly following of stern upholders of +individual rights and the opportunity for mutual good fellowship, retired +to the bar of the White Fish and, waited upon by Mary herself and her two +exemplary sons, made merry far into the evening.</p> + +<p>Tom and Sandy McAdam, handsome, carefree boys of sixteen and eighteen, +passed the drinks with many a jest and often a wink, but never a drop +drank they, not until the Lodge had closed its doors on all visitors, and +then Tom, the elder, with a final leer at Sandy the younger, drained off +a glass of bad whisky with a grace that betokened long practice.</p> + +<p>"Hold, there!" cautioned Sandy, filling a glass of beer for himself; +"you'll not be able to hide it from the mother, you galoot."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the night's long before the day breaks, and it's yourself as must +take the turn at house chores the morning."</p> + +<p>The following day was cloudy and threatening, and why Mary McAdam should +take that time for suggesting that her boys go over to Wyland Island and +buy their winter suits, she herself could not have told. Perhaps, from +the assurance of last night, she felt freer with money; perhaps she +thought the boys could not be spared so well later; be that as it might, +she insisted, even against Sandy's remark that "a lad couldn't put his +mind to a winter outfit with the sweat rolling down his back," that they +should set forth by eleven o'clock.</p> + +<p>"Make a lark of it," said she generously; "take that scapegoat Jerry-Jo +McAlpin with you and have it out with him about being a young beast and +worrying the heart out of old Jerry, who means well but ain't got no kind +of a headpiece. Take your lunch along and——"</p> + +<p>Here she pointed her remarks with a lean, commanding finger: "You take +that sail off the launch! It's quiet enough now, but it ain't going to +last forever, and I couldn't rest with three flighty lads in a boat with +a sail <i>and</i> an engine."</p> + +<p>Mrs. McAdam always expected to be obeyed. Her personality was such that +she generally was; but always, when disobedience followed, it was hidden +from her immediate attention, and she was never one to show the weakness +of watching to see her orders carried out. That was why she, of all the +people in the little village, did not realize that her boys often drank +more than was good for them—always managed, by clever devices, to escape +her eye.</p> + +<p>"A glass of harmless stuff now and again," she would say with a toss of +her head; "what's that but a proof of the lads' self-control? That's what +I'm a-telling you: make your lads strong and self-respecting."</p> + +<p>Tom did not take the sail from the boat that day, neither did he expect +to use it. He furled it close and shipped it carefully, but it was late, +and, in the last hurry, he kept his mother's caution in mind, but did not +carry out her command. Then Sandy, when they were about to start, did a +bold thing. Stealing into the bar, he took a bottle of whisky and a +bottle of brandy; these he hid under his reefer, and, with a laugh at his +own cunning, put into the empty places on the shelves two partly filled +bottles, and ran to the wharf.</p> + +<p>Mary McAdam waved them a farewell from the steps. She had packed the +hamper and stowed it under the very sail she had ordered off. In the +excitement of preparation she overlooked it entirely.</p> + +<p>"You, Sandy, see to it that you buy a suit that you won't repent when the +winter nips you!" she called.</p> + +<p>"And you, Tom, get a quiet colour and <i>no</i> checks! When yer last year's +suit shrank and the squares got crooked ye looked like a damaged +checker-board!"</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo McAlpin from his seat in the stern roared with laughter at this, +and just then the sturdy little engine puffed, thudded, and "caught on," +and off went the three with loud words of good-bye.</p> + +<p>The Channel was as smooth as a summer brook, and the launch shot ahead.</p> + +<p>"It's a bit chilly," Sandy said as they neared the mouth opening at +Flying Point into the Little Bay.</p> + +<p>"Put on your storm coat," cautioned Tom, "and you, too, Jerry-Jo; we'll +get the wind when we pass Dreamer's Rock and strike the Big Bay."</p> + +<p>The boys got out their coats and put them on, and then Sandy said:</p> + +<p>"See what I've got! Snitched it from under the mother's eye, too!" He +held up the bottles. Tom laughed, but Jerry-Jo reached out for one.</p> + +<p>"A nip will ward off the cold better than a coat," he said.</p> + +<p>They all three indulged in this preventive.</p> + +<p>Beyond Dreamer's Rock the wind fulfilled Tom's prophecy; it was not a +great wind, but it was a steady one, and, perhaps, because the whisky had +warmed Tom's blood too hastily and hotly, he grew reckless.</p> + +<p>"What do you say, fellows, to eating our lunch and then trying sail and +engine together? We could beat the record and surprise folks by our time +in coming and going. The wind's safe; not a puff! What do you say?"</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo was something of a coward, but by the time he had eaten his +lunch and washed it down with more whisky than he had meant to take, he +was ready to handle the sail himself and proceeded to do so.</p> + +<p>Little Bear Island was the last one before the entrance to Big Bay, and +when the launch passed that, either the wind had changed, or Tom, at the +engine and Jerry-Jo at the sail, had lost nerve and head, for the boat +became unmanageable. Sandy, keeping to the exact middle of the boat, +called to Jerry-Jo to lower the sail, but Jerry-Jo did not hear, or +failed to clearly comprehend. The little craft shot ahead like an arrow, +but Tom knew that when they went about there would be trouble. They were +fully a mile from either rock-bound shore. Wyland Island was a good two +miles before them, and home seven miles to the rear.</p> + +<p>A biggish sea was rolling and the sky was clouding threateningly. The +liquor had done its worst for the boys: it had unnerved them, while at +the same time it had given them a mad courage.</p> + +<p>"Keep straight ahead," shouted Tom, "until we get near shore, and then +pull in that infernal sail!"</p> + +<p>What happened just then Jerry-Jo could never tell, and he alone remained +at the day's end for the telling!</p> + +<p>They were in the water, all three of them! For a moment Jerry-Jo, +thoroughly sobered and keener witted than he had ever been before in his +life, believed he was the only one of the party ever again to appear in +that angry sea. Then he saw the over-turned boat, heard the last sobbing +pants of the engine as it filled with water; then Tom's black head and +agonized face appeared; then Sandy's red head. They all made for the boat +and the wide sail lying flat in the water!</p> + +<p>They reached the launch, chilled and desperate, climbed upon it, and +gazed helplessly at each other. Through chattering teeth they tried to +speak, but only a moan escaped Tom's blue lips. The wind was colder; the +sun had gone behind a bank of dull storm clouds. After a long while +Sandy, looking over the expanse of ugly choppy waves, shuddered and +panted:</p> + +<p>"It's going to be dark soon; it can't be more than a half mile to yonder +rock—I'm for swimming to it! Once on land we can move about, get our +blood going, and perhaps find a sheltered spot—till—morning!"</p> + +<p>Tom looked at his brother vaguely; he was suffering keenly:</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool!" he shuddered. Jerry-Jo, huddled in a wet heap, was +sobbing like a baby—gone utterly to pieces.</p> + +<p>Another hideous space of silence followed, then Sandy spoke again:</p> + +<p>"I'm going to make the try. I'm dying of cold. It's the only chance for +any of us. Here goes!"</p> + +<p>And before any one could interfere he made his leap and was in the water, +a bobbing speck among the ugly white caps!</p> + +<p>"Good God!"</p> + +<p>That was all Tom said, but his crazed eyes were upon that strained, +uplifted face. Jerry-Jo ceased his moaning and—laughed! It was a foolish +cackle, such as a maniac might give, mistaking a death-struggle for a bit +of play.</p> + +<p>"He's—a good swimmer!" he gasped, and laughed again. Tom turned, for an +instant, wondering eyes upon him. He may have, in that moment, estimated +his own chance, his duty to Jerry-Jo, and his determination to be with +his brother. The perplexed gaze lasted but the briefest space of time and +then with:</p> + +<p>"All right! here goes!" he was making for Sandy with a strength born of +despair and madness.</p> + +<p>"Come back!" shrieked Jerry-Jo with the frenzy of one deserted and too +cowardly or helpless to follow: "Come back!"</p> + +<p>But neither swimmer heard nor heeded. For a moment more the black and the +red heads bobbed about, the faces turned toward each other grimly. Even +in that waste and at the bitter last the sense of companionship held +their thought. Jerry-Jo, rigid and every sense at last alert in an effort +for self-preservation, saw Sandy smile. It was a wonderful smile: it was +like a flash of sunlight on that black sea; then Sandy's lips moved, but +no one was ever to know what he said, and then—Jerry-Jo was alone in the +coming night and the rolling waves!</p> + +<p>"They should," said Mary McAdam, "be home by seven at the latest. The +wind's with them coming back; it was with them part of the way going!"</p> + +<p>Anton Farwell sat on the steps of the Lodge, his dogs peacefully lying at +his feet. All day, since hearing of the boys' trip, he had been restless +and anxious. Farwell had his bad hours often, but he rarely permitted +himself companionship at such times, but to-day, after his noon meal, he +had been unable to keep away from the Lodge.</p> + +<p>"Fall's setting in early," Mrs. McAdam went on; "pickerel come; whitefish +go. Beasts and fish and birds ken a lot, Mr. Farwell."</p> + +<p>"They certainly do. The more you live with dumb creatures, the more you +are impressed with that. Is that Sandy's dog, Mrs. McAdam?"</p> + +<p>A yellow, lank dog came sniffing around the side of the house and lay +down, friendly wise, by Farwell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he's a cute one. Do you believe me, Mr. Farwell, that there +Bounder knows the engine of our boat! Any other boat can come into the +Channel and he don't take any notice, but let my boys be out late and +Bounder, lying asleep on the floor, will start up at the chugging of the +launch and make for the dock. He never makes a mistake."</p> + +<p>Farwell laughed and bent over to smooth Bounder's back.</p> + +<p>"What time is it?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Six-thirty," Mary replied with alarming readiness. "Six-thirty, and the +clock's a bit slow at that."</p> + +<p>Farwell felt sure it was a good ten minutes slow; but because of that he +turned the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Jerry McAlpin was telling me to-day," he said in his low, pleasant +voice, "of how he and others used to smuggle liquor over the border. +Jerry seems repenting of his past."</p> + +<p>Mary laughed and shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"My man and Jerry, with old Michael McAlpin, were the freest of +smugglers. In them days the McAlpins wasn't pestered with feelings; they +was good sports. Jerry marrying that full-breed had it taken out of him +somewhat—she was a hifty one. Them Indians never can get off their high +heels—not the full-breeds. But I tell you, Mr. Farwell, and you take it +for truth, when Jerry begins to maudle about repentance, it's just before +a—debauch. I know the signs."</p> + +<p>Just then Bounder raised his head and howled.</p> + +<p>"None of that! Off with yer!" shouted Mary, making for the dog with +nervous energy. "Once," she went on, her lips twitching, "my man and +Michael McAlpin had a good one on the officers. They had a big load of +the stuff on the cart and were coming down the road back of the Far Hill +Place when they sensed the custom men in the bushes. What do they do but +cut the traces and lick the horses into a run; then they turned the +barrels loose, jumped off, letting them roll down the hill, and they, +themselves, made for safety. It was only a bit more trouble to go back in +a week's time and gather up the barrels; but those government devils +followed the horses like idiots and felt mighty set up when they overtook +them! But when they saw they had <i>only</i> the horses, oh! good Lord!"</p> + +<p>Farwell laughed absently; his eyes were fixed on the water. Even in the +Channel it had an angry look. The current was set from the Bay, and the +stream rose and fell as if it had an ugly secret in its keeping.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. McAdam," he said suddenly, "I'm going out to—to meet the boys!"</p> + +<p>"God save ye, Mr. Farwell—for which?"</p> + +<p>When Mary fell into that form of speech she was either troubled or +infuriated.</p> + +<p>"I'm restless; I feel like a fling. Come on, you scamps!" to his dogs, +"get home and keep house till I come back."</p> + +<p>His dogs leaped to him and then made for the Green. Without another word +Farwell walked to his launch at the foot of the wharf steps and prepared +for his trip.</p> + +<p>A black wave of fear enveloped Mary McAdam. She was overcome by a +certainty of evil, and, when Farwell's boat had disappeared, she strode +to the Green and gave vent to her anxiety. There were those who +comforted, those who jeered, but the men were largely away on fishing +business, and the women and boys were more interested in her excitement +than they were in her cause for fear.</p> + +<p>It was eight o'clock and very dark when Doctor Ledyard, driving down +from Far Hill Place for the mail, paused to listen to Mrs. McAdam's +expressions of anxiety. Young Dick Travers was beside him, and Mary's +words held him.</p> + +<p>"Was Jerry-Jo with your boys, Mrs. McAdam?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"He was that! And Jerry-Jo always brings ill-luck on a trip. I should +have known better than to let the half-breed scamp go. 'Twas pity as +moved me. Jerry-Jo is one as thinks rocking a boat is spirit, and yelling +for help, when no help is needed, a rare joke. The young devil!"</p> + +<p>Doctor Ledyard and Dick stayed on after getting the mail. A strange, +tense feeling was growing in the place. Mary's terror was contagious.</p> + +<p>"If the men would only come back," moaned the distracted mother; "I'd +send the lot of them out after the young limbs!"</p> + +<p>At eight-thirty the storm broke. A dull, thick storm which had used most +of its fury out beyond Flying Point, and in the breast of the sullen wind +came the sound of an engine panting, panting in the darkness that was +shot by flashes of lightning and rent by thunder-claps. Mary McAdam gazed +petrified at Bounder, who had followed her to the Green.</p> + +<p>"Why don't yer yelp?" she muttered, giving the dog a kick. But Bounder +blinked indifferently as the coming boat drew near and nearer.</p> + +<p>Every boy, woman, and child, with the old men and lazy young ones, were +at the wharf when the launch emerged from the darkness. Some one was +standing up guiding the boat, ready to protect it from violent contact; +some one was huddled on the floor of the boat—some one who made no cry, +did not look up. They two were all! Just then a lurid flash of lightning +seemed to photograph the scene forever on the minds of the onlookers.</p> + +<p>Ledyard, with Dick, was close to the boat when it touched the dock. By +the lurid light of electricity the face of the man in the launch rose +sharply against the darkness and for one instant shone as if to attract +attention.</p> + +<p>Farwell was known by reputation to the doctor; he had probably been seen +by him many times, but certainly his face had never made an impression +upon him before. But now, in the hour of anguish and excitement, it held +Ledyard's thought to the exclusion of everything else.</p> + +<p>"Who? where?" The questions ran through his mind and then, because every +sense was alert, he knew!</p> + +<p>"Jerry-Jo!" Dick was calling, "where are the others?"</p> + +<p>It was a mad question, but the boy, huddling in the launch, replied +quiveringly:</p> + +<p>"Gone! gone to the bottom off Dreamer's Rock."</p> + +<p>Then he began to whimper piteously.</p> + +<p>A shuddering cry rang out. It was Mary McAdam, who, followed by her dog, +ran wildly, apron over head, toward the White Fish Lodge.</p> + +<p>Farwell, casting all reserve aside, worked with Ledyard over the +prostrate Jerry-Jo. The recognition was no shock to him; he had always +known Ledyard; had cleverly kept from his notice heretofore, but now the +one thing he had hoped to escape was upon him, and he grew strangely +indifferent to what lay before.</p> + +<p>He obeyed every command of the doctor as they sought to restore Jerry-Jo. +More than once their eyes met and their hands touched, but the contact +did not cause a tremor in either man.</p> + +<p>When the inevitable arrives a strength accompanies it. Nature rarely +deserts either friend or foe at the critical moment.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>The bay was dragged, various methods being used, but the bodies of Sandy +and Tom McAdam were not recovered. Mary McAdam with strained eyes and +rigid lips waited at the wharf as each party returned, and when at last +hope died in her poor heart, she set about the doing of two things that +she felt must be done.</p> + +<p>The behaviour of the boys in the boat on the day of the accident had at +last reached her ears, for, with such excitement prevailing and Jerry-Jo +reduced to periods of nervous babbling as he repeated again and again the +story, Mary was certain of overhearing the details. As far as possible +she verified every word. That her sons had disobeyed her about the sail +there could be no doubt, and when she went to the shelf of the bar and +discovered the half-filled bottles which Sandy had put in the places of +the brandy and whisky, her heart gave up doubt. She relinquished all that +she had prided herself upon in the past. They had defied and deceived +her! They had permitted her to be mocked while she prated of her +superiority! It was bitter hard, but Mary McAdam made no feeble cry—she +prepared for the final act in the little drama. Beyond that she could +not, would not look.</p> + +<p>"Dig me two graves," she commanded Big Hornby; "dig them one on either +side of my husband's."</p> + +<p>"You'll be thinking the bodies will yet be found, poor soul?" Hornby had +a tender nature kept human by his hunger for his absent boys.</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking. I'm doing my part; let others do the same."</p> + +<p>And then Mary went to Anton Farwell. Farwell, since the night of the +tragedy, was waiting, always waiting for the inevitable. Every knock at +his door brought him panting to his feet. He knew Doctor Ledyard would +come; he fervently hoped he would, and soon, but the days dragged on. +There were moments when the man had a wild desire to shoulder his bag and +set forth under shadow of the night and the excitement, for one of his +long absences, this one, however, to terminate as far from Kenmore as +possible. Once he had even started, but at the edge of the water where +his boat lay he halted, deterred by the knowledge that his safer course +lay in facing what he must face sooner or later. Now that he was known to +be alive it were easier to deal with one man than with the pack of +bloodhounds which that one man might set upon him. Always the personal +element entered in—it was weak hope, but the only one. He might win +Ledyard; he could not win the pack!</p> + +<p>When Mary McAdam knocked on Farwell's door he thought the time had come, +but the sight of the distracted mother steadied him. Here was something +for him to do, something to carry him away from his lonely forebodings.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Mrs. McAdam. Rest yourself. You look sorely in need of rest."</p> + +<p>It was the early evening of a hot day. It was lighter out of doors than +in the cottage, for the shades were drawn at Farwell's windows; he +disliked the idea of being watched from without.</p> + +<p>"I can't rest, Master Farwell, till I've done my task," said the poor +soul, sinking into the nearest chair. "And it's to get your help I've +come."</p> + +<p>"I'll do what I can," murmured Farwell. "What I'll be permitted to do," +he felt would be more true.</p> + +<p>"I've said more than once, Mr. Farwell, that were my boys like other boys +I'd give up the business of the White Fish. Well, my lads were like +others, only they were keener about deceiving me. I thought I'd made them +strong and sure, but I did the same hurt to my flesh and blood that I did +to others. I put evil too close and easy to them. I prided myself on what +I had never done! They'll come back to me no more. Could I have a talk +with them, things might be straightened out; but I must do what is to be +done alone."</p> + +<p>Not a quiver shook the low, severe voice. The very hardness moved Farwell +to deep pity.</p> + +<p>"It's now, Mr. Farwell, that I'd have you come to the Lodge and help me +with my task, and when it's over I want you to stand with me beside those +two empty graves and say what you can for them who never had the right +mother to teach them. I'm no church woman; the job of priest and minister +sickens me, but I know a good man when I see one. You helped the lads +while they lived; you risked your life to help them home at the last; and +it's you who shall consecrate the empty beds where I'd have my lads lie +if the power were mine!"</p> + +<p>Farwell got up and paced the room restlessly. Suddenly, with Ledyard's +recognition, the poor shell of respectability and self-respect which, +during his lonely years, had grown about him, was torn asunder, and he +was what he knew the doctor believed him. To such, Mary McAdam's request +seemed a cruel jest, a taunt to drive him into the open. And yet he knew +that up to the last ditch he must hold to what he had secured for +himself—the trust and friendship of these simple people. Hard and +distasteful as the effort was he dared not turn himself from it. Full +well he knew that Ledyard's magnifying glass was, unseen, being used +against him even now. The delay was probably caused by the doctor's +silent investigation of his recent life, his daily deeds. He could well +imagine the amusement, contempt, and disbelief that would meet the story +of his poor, blameless years during which he had played with children, +worked in his garden, been friends with the common folk, not from any +high motive, but to keep himself from insanity! He had had to use any +material at hand, and it had brought about certain results that Ledyard +would dissect and toss aside, he would never believe! Still the attempt +to live on, as he had lived, must be undertaken. A kind of desperation +overcame him.</p> + +<p>What did it matter? He might just as well go on until he was stopped. He +was no safer, no more comfortable, sitting apart waiting for his summons. +He would, as far as in him lay, ignore the menacing thing that hovered +near, and play the part of a man while he might.</p> + +<p>"I'm ready to go with you, Mrs. McAdam," he said, turning for his hat, +"and as we go tell me what you are about to do."</p> + +<p>It was no easy telling. The mere statement of fact was so crude that +Farwell could not, by any possibility, comprehend the dramatic scene he +was soon to witness and partake of.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to keep my word," Mary McAdam explained. "I'll not be waiting +for the license to be given, or taken away, I'll keep my word."</p> + +<p>It was a still, breathless night, with a moon nearly full, and as Mrs. +McAdam, accompanied by Farwell, passed over the Green toward the Lodge, +the idlers and loiterers followed after at a respectful distance. Mary +was the centre of attraction just then, and Farwell always commanded +attention, used as the people were to him.</p> + +<p>"Come on! come on!" called Mary without turning her head. "Bring others +and behold the sight of your lives. Behold a woman keeping her word when +the need for the keeping is over!"</p> + +<p>A growing excitement was rising in Mary's voice; she was nearing the end +of her endurance and was becoming reckless.</p> + +<p>By the time the Lodge was reached a goodly crowd was at the steps leading +up to the bar. Jerry McAlpin was there with Jerry-Jo beside him. Hornby, +just come from the digging of the two graves, stood nearby with the scent +of fresh earth clinging to him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Mary McAdam came out of the house, her arms filled with bottles, +while behind her followed Farwell rolling a cask.</p> + +<p>What occurred then was so surprising and bewildering that those who +looked on were never able to clearly describe the scene. Standing with +her load, Mary McAdam spoke fierce, hot words. She showed herself no +mercy, asked for no pity. She had dealt in a business that threatened the +souls of men and boys, made harder the lives of women. She had blinded +herself and made herself believe that she and hers were better, stronger +than others, and now——</p> + +<p>Mary was magnificent in her abandon and despair. Her words flowed freely, +her eyes flashed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/gs02.jpg"><img src="images/gs02.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h3><a name="gs02" id="gs02"></a>[Illustration: "'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! +here! here!' The bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the +roadway"]</h3> + + +<p>"And now," she cried, "I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!"</p> + +<p>The bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway.</p> + +<p>"And you, Master Farwell, break open the keg and set the evil thing +free."</p> + +<p>This Farwell proceeded to do with energy born of the hour. "And fetch out +all that remains!" shrieked Mary. "Here, you! McAlpin, I'll have none of +your help! Stay in your place; I'd not trust you inside when all's as +free as it is to-night. You have your lad—heaven help you! Keep him and +give him a clean chance. Nor you, Hornby! Out with you! It's a wicked +waste, is it? Better so than what I suffer. Your lads are above ground, +though out of your sight, Hornby, while mine——Here, Master, more! more! +let us water the earth."</p> + +<p>The mad scene went on until the last drop of liquor was soaking into the +earth or dripping from the rocks.</p> + +<p>White-faced and stern, Farwell carried out the mother's commands and +heeded not the muttered discontent or the approach of the horse and buggy +bearing Doctor Ledyard and Dick Travers. He was one in the drama now and +he played his part.</p> + +<p>At the close a dull silence rested on the group, then Mary McAdam made +her appeal. Her voice broke; her hands trembled. She looked aged and +forlorn.</p> + +<p>"And now," she said; "who'll come to the graveyard with me?"</p> + +<p>She need not have asked. To the last child they followed mutely. They +were overcome by curiosity and fear, and the faces in the dull light of +the late day and early night looked ghostly.</p> + +<p>As Farwell stood near Mary McAdam by the newly made graves, he raised +his eyes and found Ledyard's stern, yet amused, ones on his face. For +a moment he quivered, but with the courage of one facing an operation, +the outcome of which he could not know, he returned the look steadily. +He heard his own voice speaking words of helpfulness, words of +memory-haunted scenes. He told of Tom's courage and Sandy's sunshiny +nature. 'Twas youth, he pleaded for them, youth with its blindness and +lack of foresight. He recalled the last dread act as Jerry-Jo had +depicted it. The older brother risking all for the younger. The +smile—Sandy's last bequest—the moving lips that doubtless spoke words +of affection to the only one who could hear them. Together they had +played their pranks, had trod the common path; together they +went—Farwell paused, then returned Ledyard's sneering gaze +defiantly,—"To God who alone can understand and judge!" This was +flung out boldly, recklessly.</p> + +<p>With ceremony and the sound of sobbing, the empty graves were refilled, +and the strange company turned away.</p> + +<p>Then, alone and spent, Farwell returned to his cottage with a sure sense +that before he slept he would know his fate, for he acknowledged that his +fate lay largely, now, in the hands of the man who no longer had any +doubt of his identity.</p> + +<p>It was half-past eight when the buggy passed Farwell's window bound for +the Hill Place. Young Travers was driving and the seat beside him was +empty! Nine o'clock struck; the lights went out in the village, but +Farwell rose and trimmed his lamp carefully. Ten o'clock—all Kenmore, +excepting Mary McAdam, slept. Still Farwell waited while his clock ticked +out the palpitating seconds. The moonlight flooded the Green. Where was +he, that waiting man who was to come and give the blow?</p> + +<p>It was nearly eleven when Farwell saw him advancing across the Green. He +had been down by the water, probably hiding in some anchored boat until +he was sure that he would not be seen. As he reached the door of +Farwell's house a clear voice called to him:</p> + +<p>"Will you come in, or would you prefer to have me come out?"</p> + +<p>This took Ledyard rather at a disadvantage. He could hardly have told +what he expected, but he certainly did not look for this calm acceptance +of him and his errand.</p> + +<p>"I'll come in. I see you have a light. Thank you"—for Farwell had +offered a chair near the table—"I hope I'm not disturbing you."</p> + +<p>The irony of this was apparently lost upon Farwell. He sat opposite +Ledyard, his arms folded on the table, waiting.</p> + +<p>"So you're alive!"</p> + +<p>"So it seems—at least partly so." Farwell parried the blows as one does +even when he sees failure at hand.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you know your death was reported some years ago? There was a +full account. You were escaping into Canada. The <i>La Belle</i> was the name +of the boat. It went down near here?"</p> + +<p>"Off Bleak Head," Farwell broke in.</p> + +<p>"Thanks. There was even a picture of you in the papers," Ledyard said.</p> + +<p>"A very poor one, I recall." Now that he was on the dissecting table, +Farwell found himself strangely calm and collected. He saw that his +manner irritated Ledyard; felt that it might ruin his chances, but he +held to it grimly.</p> + +<p>"So you saw—the papers?" The eyes under the shaggy brows looked ugly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I had them all sent to me. It was very interesting reading +after I got over the shock of the wreck and had accepted my isolated +position."</p> + +<p>"I suppose—Boswell keeps in touch with you—damn him!"</p> + +<p>"Do you begrudge me—this one friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You have put yourself outside the pale of human companionship and +friendships."</p> + +<p>To this Farwell made no rejoinder. Again he waited.</p> + +<p>"What do you think I'm going to do about it, now that I've run you down +so unexpectedly?"</p> + +<p>"I have supposed you would tell me, once we got together."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've come to tell you!"</p> + +<p>Ledyard leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out before +him.</p> + +<p>"But first I'm going to ask you a few questions. Your answers won't +signify much one way or the other, but I'm curious. Why did you make such +a fight—just to live? It must have been a devil of a game."</p> + +<p>Farwell leaned against the table and so came nearer to his inquisitor.</p> + +<p>"It was," he said quietly, "and I wonder if you can understand why it is +that I'm glad to tell—even you about it? I don't expect sympathy, pity, +or—even justice, but when a man's been on a desert isle for years it's a +relief to speak his own tongue again to any one who can comprehend and +who will listen."</p> + +<p>"I'm prepared to listen," Ledyard muttered, and shrugged his heavy +shoulders; "it will pass the time."</p> + +<p>"After the thing was done," Farwell plunged in, "the thing I—had to +do—I was dazed; I couldn't think clear. I'd been driven by drink +and—and other things into a state bordering on delirium. Afterward, when +they had me and I was forced to live normally, simply, I began to think +clearly and suffer. God! how I suffered! I faced death with the horror +that only an intelligent person can know. I saw no escape. The trial, the +verdict, brought me closer and closer to the hideous reality. At first +I thought it could <i>not</i> happen to me—to me! But it could! I sat day +in and day out, looking at the electric chair! That was all I could see: +it stood like a symbol of all the torture. I wondered how I would +approach it. Would I falter, or go as most poor devils do—steadily? I +saw myself—afterward—all that was left of me to give back to the world. +Oh! I suffered, I suffered!"</p> + +<p>The white, haggard face held Ledyard's fascinated gaze, but drew no word +from him.</p> + +<p>Farwell loosened the neck of his shirt—he was stifling, yet feeling +relief as the past dreams of his lonely life formed themselves into +words.</p> + +<p>"At night I was haunted by visions," the low, vibrant voice rushed on. +"It was worse at night when semi-unconsciousness made me helpless. I'd +wake up yelling, not with fright, but pain, actual pain—the hot, knifing +pain of an electric current trying to find my heart and brain.</p> + +<p>"Then they said I was mad. Well, so I was; and the fight was on! At first +there was a gleam—the chair faded from sight. If I lived—there was +hope; but I was mistaken. You know the rest. The legal struggle, the +escapes and captures. One friend and much money did what they could; it +wasn't much.</p> + +<p>"You've seen a cat play with a mouse? The mouse always runs, doesn't it? +Well, so did I, though I didn't know where in God's world I was running, +nor to what."</p> + +<p>For some minutes Farwell had been speaking like a man distraught by +fever. He had forgotten the listener across the table; he was remembering +<i>aloud</i> at last, with no fear of consequences. He did not look at +Ledyard, and when he spoke again it was in a calmer tone.</p> + +<p>"It was on the last run—that I was supposed to have drowned. Well, I did +die; at least something in me died. I lost breath, consciousness, and +when I came to I was a poor, broken thing not worth turning the hounds +on. I'm done for as far as the past's concerned. I'm a different man—not +a reformed one! God knows I never played that rôle. I'm another man. I +took what I could to keep me from insanity. I had to do something to +occupy my time. That's why I've taught these poor little devils; it +wasn't for them, it was for me; and when they grew to like me and trust +me—I was grateful. Grateful for even that!"</p> + +<p>Ledyard was holding the white, drawn face by his merciless eyes. So he +looked when a particularly interesting subject lay under his knife and he +was all surgeon—no man.</p> + +<p>"But you're not equal to going back to the States without being hauled +there—and taking your medicine?" he asked calmly.</p> + +<p>"No. I suppose in the final analysis all that justice demands is that I +should be put out of the way—out of the way of harming others? Well, +that's accomplished. I don't suppose your infernal ideas of justice claim +that a man should be hounded beyond death, and every chance for right +living be barred from him? If a poor devil ever can expatiate his sin and +try to live a decent life, why shouldn't he be given the opportunity here +and now instead of in some mythical place among creatures of one's +fancy?"</p> + +<p>"You didn't argue that way when you shot Charles Martin down, did you? He +was my friend; he had to—take his medicine!" Ledyard almost snarled out +these words. "He may have deserved his punishment for the lapses of his +life—but you were not the one to deal it. His family demand and should +have justice for him—I mean to see that they shall. Martin, for all his +folly was a genius, and gave to the world his toll of service. Why should +you, who gave nothing, escape at his expense?"</p> + +<p>"Martin was no better, no worse, than I. He and I lived on the same plane +then; had the same interests. Had I not killed him, he would have killed +me. He swore that."</p> + +<p>"But you took him—at a disadvantage, like the damned——" Ledyard +paused; he was losing his self-control. The calm, living face across the +table enraged him.</p> + +<p>"I met him in the open; I did not know he was unarmed. I drew my pistol +in full view. A week before he had done the same; I escaped. No one +believed that when I told it at the trial. I had no witnesses; he had +many when I took my revenge."</p> + +<p>"Who could believe you? What was your life compared with his?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Perhaps that is why I—I kept running. Martin only dipped into +such lives as mine was then; he always scurried back to respectability +and honour; I grovelled in the mire and got stuck! When you get stuck you +get what the world calls—justice."</p> + +<p>"I recall"—Ledyard's face was hardening—"I recall you always squealed. +You were always the wronged one; society was against you. Bah!"</p> + +<p>Farwell sat unmoved under this attack.</p> + +<p>"I'm not squealing now," he said quietly; "I am merely defending myself +as I can. That's the prerogative of any human being, isn't it? Why, see +here, Ledyard, there's one thing men like you never comprehend. On the +different stratas of life exactly the same passions, impulses, and +emotions exist; it's the way they're dealt with, how they affect people, +that makes the difference. Up where you live and breathe they love and +hate and take revenge, don't they? That's what happened down where I +wallowed and where Martin sometimes came—to enjoy himself!"</p> + +<p>And now Farwell clutched his thin hands on the table to stay their +trembling as he went on:</p> + +<p>"I loved—the woman in the case. That sounds strange to you, but it's the +only thing I warn you not to laugh at! I loved her because she was +beautiful, fascinating, and as—as bad as I. I knew the poor creature had +never had half a show. She was born in evil and exploited from the cradle +up. Martin knew it, too, and took advantage. She was fair game for him +and his money. When he came down to hell to play, he played with her and +defied me. But on my plane it was man against man, you see, and when he +flung his plaything aside, she came to me; that's all! She told me how he +had brought her where she was—yes, damn him! when she was innocent! She +paid her toll then, <i>not</i> for his money—though who would believe +that?—but for the chance to be decent and clean. He told her, when +she was only sixteen, that the one way she could prove her vows to him +was to give herself to him. If she trusted him so far, he could trust +her. She trusted, poor child! Two years later he married up on his higher +plane—your plane—and laughingly offered a second best place to her. It +was the only bargain she could make then! The rest was an easy downhill +grade.</p> + +<p>"Well, I took her. I was all you say, but I meant to do the right +thing by her, and she knew it! Yes, she knew it, and later he came back +and tried to get her away. After I shot him and went to her with the +story—she told me she'd pull herself together and wait for me +until—until I came for her. She understood!"</p> + +<p>Ledyard moistened his lips and set his jaws harshly. The story had not +moved him to pity.</p> + +<p>"And—where is she now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In New York, I suppose. She thinks me dead."</p> + +<p>"Boswell tells you that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. And he will never let her know. Unless I——"</p> + +<p>"You expect to go back—some day?"</p> + +<p>Farwell gave a dry, mirthless laugh at this, and then replied:</p> + +<p>"After I've been dead long enough, when I've been good long enough, +perhaps. You know even in a disembodied spirit hope dies hard. Yes—I +<i>had</i> hoped to go back."</p> + +<p>"I—I thought so." Ledyard leaned forward and across the table; his face +was not three feet from Farwell's.</p> + +<p>"I like to trace diseases down to the last germ," he said. "You're a +disease, Farwell Maxwell, a mighty, ugly, dangerous one. You oughtn't to +be alive; you're a menace while you have breath in your body; you should +have died years ago in payment of your debt, just as Martin did, but you +escaped, and now some one has got to keep an eye on you; see that you +don't skip quarantine. You understand?"</p> + +<p>Farwell felt the turning of the screw.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to be the eye, Maxwell. You're going to stay right where you +are until you pass off this sphere. Remembering what you once were, your +pastimes and love of luxury, this seems as hellish a place and existence +as even you deserve. When I saw you last night"—and here Ledyard +laughed—"it was all I could do to control myself. You play your part +well; but you always had a knack for theatricals. I know I'm a hard, +unforgiving man, but there is just one phase of human nature that I will +not stand for, and that is the refusal to take the medicine prescribed +for the disease. What incentive have people for better living and upright +thinking if every devil of a fellow who gets through his beastiality is +permitted to come up into the ranks and march shoulder to shoulder with +the best? If it's living you want and will lie for, steal for, and beg +for—have it; but have it here where the chances are all against your old +self. You'll probably never murder any one here or ruin the women; so +grovel on!"</p> + +<p>As he listened Farwell seemed to shrink and age. In that hour he +recognized the fact that through all the years of self-imposed exile he +had held to the hope of release in the future: the going back to that +which he had once known. But looking at the hard, set face opposite he +knew that this hope was futile: he must live forever where he was, or, by +departing, bring about him the bloodhounds of justice and vengeance. +Ledyard had but to whistle, he knew, and again the pursuit would be keen, +and in the end—a long blank lay beyond that!</p> + +<p>"You will—stay where you are!" Ledyard was saying.</p> + +<p>"Surely. I intend to stay right here."</p> + +<p>Then Farwell laughed and leaned back in his chair.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>Life settled into calm after the storm and subsequent happenings. Mary +McAdam, having done what she felt she must do, grimly set her house in +order and prepared for a new career. The bar, cleansed and altered, +became her private apartment. With the courage and endurance of a martyr +she determined to fight her battle out where there would be the least +encouragement or comfort.</p> + +<p>"I'll drink to the dregs," she said to Mary Terhune, who gave up her +profession to share the solitude and fortunes of the White Fish; "but +while I'm drinking there's no crime in serving my kind. Come summer I'll +open my doors to tourists and keep the kind of house a woman—and a +God-bepraised widow one at that—should keep. Time was when the best +would not come to me, the bar being against their liking. Well, the best +may come now and find peace."</p> + +<p>"'Tis a changed woman you are, Mrs. McAdam."</p> + +<p>"No, just a stricken one, Mary. When I sit by those empty graves back of +the pasture lot I seem to know that I must do the work of my boys as well +as my own—and the time's short! I'm over sixty."</p> + +<p>"And looking forty, Mrs. McAdam." The manners of her trade clung to Mrs. +Terhune.</p> + +<p>"The shell doesn't count, Mary, if the heart of you is old and worn."</p> + +<p>The people from the Far Hill Place returned early to town that year, and +Anton Farwell breathed easier and sunk back into his old life when he +knew they were gone.</p> + +<p>In resurrecting the man Farwell once was, Ledyard had all but slain the +man he had, perforce, become.</p> + +<p>Whether former characteristics were dead or not, who could tell? +But certainly with temptation removed, with the routine of a bleak, +uninteresting existence his only choice, Farwell was a harmless creature. +Gradually he had found solace in the commonplaces that surrounded +him. Like a person relieved of mortal agony he was grateful for +semi-invalidism. Previous to Ledyard's recognition of him he had sunk to +a monotonous indifference, waiting, he realized now, for the time when he +might safely shake off his disguise and slip away to what was once his +own. Now, with his exit from Kenmore barred, he found that he no longer +could return to his stupor; he was alert, keen, and restless. In the +past he had often forced himself to exercise in order that he might be +ready to journey on when the time of release came. His walks to the +distant town, his long hours on the water, had all been preparations +for the final leave-taking from his living tomb.</p> + +<p>But now that he had no need of lashing himself into action, he found +himself always on the move. He worked early and late at trifling tasks +that occupied his hands while sharpening his wits. With shades drawn at +night, he drew, with pencil and paper, plans of escape. He must choose +a calm spell after a storm; he would take his launch, with a rowboat +behind, to the Fox Portage. He'd set his launch free and shoulder his +boat. Once he reached the Little Bay, he'd take his chances for an +outgoing steamer. He'd have plenty of money and a glib story of a bad +connection. It would go. He must defeat Ledyard.</p> + +<p>Then he would tear the sheets of paper in bits, toss them on the coals, +and laugh bitterly as he realized that he was imprisoned forever.</p> + +<p>Foolish as all this was, it had its effect upon the man. He played with +the thought as a child might play with a forbidden toy. Then he decided +to test the matter. He would have to buy clothes and provisions for the +winter—he always made a pilgrimage about this time. There would be a +letter from Boswell, too. There always was one in September. So on a +certain morning Farwell turned the key in his lock and quite naturally +set forth with a sense of exaltation and freedom he had imagined he would +never feel again.</p> + +<p>Followed by his dogs, he went to his boat, which happened just then to be +tied at the ricketty dock of the White Fish.</p> + +<p>"It's off for a tramp you are, maybe?" asked Mrs. McAdam from her +doorway. "God keep you, Mr. Farwell, and bring you back safe and sound."</p> + +<p>At this Farwell paused.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll leave the dogs behind," he said. "I may wish to hurry back, +and a brace of dogs, keen on scents and full of spirits, is a handicap on +a journey."</p> + +<p>"Sure I'll feed and care for the two, and welcome, and if their staying +behind brings you quicker home, 'tis a good piece of work I'm doing for +Kenmore."</p> + +<p>With this Mary McAdam came down to the boat and looked keenly at Farwell.</p> + +<p>"Are you well?" she asked with a gentleness new and touching. "'Tis pale +you look, and thin, I'm thinking. I'm getting to depend upon you, and the +thought of anything happening to you grieves the heart of me. In all +Kenmore there's no one as I lean on like you. There be nights when I look +out toward your house and see your light a-shining when all else is dark, +and say to myself, 'The master and me' over and over, and I'm less +lonely."</p> + +<p>For a moment Farwell could not speak. Once an inward desire to laugh, +to scoff, would have driven him to supernatural gravity; now he merely +smiled with grave pleasure, and said:</p> + +<p>"A tramp will do me good, Mrs. McAdam. Thank you. I'll take your words +with me for comfort and cheer."</p> + +<p>The first night Farwell slept beside his fire, not ten miles from +Kenmore. He had revelled in his freedom all day, had played like a boy, +often retracing his steps, carefully using the same footprints, and +laughing as he imagined the confusion of any one trying to follow him; +the vague somebody being always Ledyard.</p> + +<p>After a frugal meal, Farwell smoked his pipe, even attempted a snatch of +rollicking song, then, rolling himself in a blanket, fell into natural +and happy slumber.</p> + +<p>At four he awoke with the creeping sensation of unexplainable fear. He +first thought some animal was prowling near, and, raising himself on his +elbow, looked keenly about. The appearance of the fire puzzled him. It +looked as if fresh wood had been laid upon it, but, as no one was in +sight he concluded that his own wood had been damp, and, therefore, had +burned slower.</p> + +<p>He did not sleep again, however, and his excited thoughts trailed back to +his past and the one woman who had magically caught and held all the best +that was in him. To what point of vantage had she, poor, disabled little +soul, drifted? The world was a hard enough place for a woman, God knew, +and for her, with her sudden-born determination to rise above the squalor +of her early youth, it would be a serious problem. Boswell told him so +little. He could count on his fingers the few sharp facts his friend had +given him with the promise that if conditions changed he should know, but +if all remained well, he might be secure in his faith and hope for the +future. The future! Was there any future for him except Kenmore? And if +she heard now that he was alive, had only <i>seemed</i> dead for her safety +and his own, would she come to him and share the dun-coloured life of the +In-Place?</p> + +<p>She was alive; she was faithful. Boswell was making her comfortable with +Farwell's money. She was accepting less and less because she was winning +her way to independence in an honourable line. Since no man had entered +her life after Farwell's death was reported, Farwell could readily see +why.</p> + +<p>Over and over, that first night in the woods, Farwell rehearsed these +facts for comfort's sake. Suppose he made an escape. Suppose he lost +himself in the city's labyrinth—what then?</p> + +<p>And then, just at daybreak, a vivid and sharp memory of the woman's face +came to him as he had last seen it pressed against the bars of his cell. +Behind the squares of metal it shone like an angel's. Fair, pitiful, +wonder-filled eyes, and quivering mouth. All day the picture haunted him +and seemed to draw him toward it. He walked twenty miles that day and +came at sunset to a dense jungle where he made his camp and stretched +himself exhaustedly before the fire.</p> + +<p>Sleep did not come easily to him; he was too excited and nerve worn. The +white face checked by iron bars would not fade, and in the red glow of +the flames it began to look wan and haggard, as if the day had tired it +and it could find no rest or comfort.</p> + +<p>The feeling of suffocation Ledyard had managed to create, returned to +him. He grew nervous, ill at ease, and fearful.</p> + +<p>Then he fell to moralizing. He was not often given to that, or +introspection. Longing and alternate hope and despair had been his +comrades and bedfellows, but he rarely indulged in calm consideration. +Smoking his pipe, stretched wearily on the moss, he wondered if men knew +how much they punished while fulfilling their ideals of justice?</p> + +<p>"If only the sense of vindictiveness could be left out," he thought; "the +Lord knows they have it all in their power once the key is turned on us. +I deserved all they meant to inflict, but no human being deserves all +that was given unconsciously."</p> + +<p>Then Farwell relived his life, while the wood crumbled to ashes and the +moon came up over the hills. A misguided, misspent boyhood; too much +money; too little common sense; then the fling in the open with every +emotion and desire uncurbed. Well, he had to learn his lesson and God +knew he had; but why, in the working of things, shouldn't one be given +a chance to prove the well-learned task; an opportunity, while among the +living, to settle the question?</p> + +<p>However, such fancies were idle, and Farwell shook the ashes from his +pipe and gave a humorous shrug.</p> + +<p>It would be a fine piece of work to slip from the clutches of the past +and make good! This idea caused him to tremble. Surely no one would look +for him in the camp of the upright. Walking the paths of the clean and +sane he would be more surely secure from detection than anywhere else on +earth. That was what his past had done for him. The truth of this sank +into the lonely man's soul with sickening finality. And as he realized +it, and compared it with the fact of his youth, he groaned. What an +infernal fool he had been! What fools all such fellows were who, like +him, wasted everything in their determination to make the unreal, real. +He did not now desire to be a drivelling repentant; he wanted, God knew +he really wanted, a chance to be decent and live; but in order to live he +must go on acting a part and cringing and hiding.</p> + +<p>These thoughts led nowhere and unfitted him for his journey, so he made +the fire safe, lay down beside it, and slept as many a better man would +have given much to sleep.</p> + +<p>At four he awoke as on the previous night. So quietly, however, did he +open his eyes that he took by surprise a man crouching by the fire as if +stealing a bit of warmth. Farwell turned over, and the two eyed each +other with wide, penetrating gaze.</p> + +<p>Tough Pine, the guide, finding himself discovered, grinned sheepishly; he +was loathing himself for being taken off guard, and muttered:</p> + +<p>"Me share fire? me helped keep it."</p> + +<p>Farwell raised himself on his elbow, all the light and courage gone from +his face. It was the old story, the dream of freedom and—the prison +bars!</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" he asked, though he knew full well.</p> + +<p>"Where—you go? There, Pine go! Pine—good friend and good guide."</p> + +<p>They questioned each other no more. Farwell finished his errand in dull +fashion, bought his goods, found a letter, long waiting him, read all the +papers he could lay hands on, and then set his face toward Kenmore. And +that winter he devoted himself as he never had before to the simple +people who were the means of keeping him sane.</p> + +<p>Upon this newly restricted and devastated horizon Priscilla Glenn loomed +large and vital. With Nathaniel's loosened rein and Theodora's restored +faith, the girl developed wonderfully. Farwell made no more objection to +her dancing or her flights of fancy. He fiddled for her and fed the flame +of her imagination. She was the sunniest creature he had ever known; +the bleak life of Lonely Farm had spurred her to greater lengths of +self-defence; nothing could daunt her. She had an absorbing curiosity +about life, out and beyond the Kenmore confines; and more to keep his own +memory clear than to satisfy Priscilla, Farwell set himself to the task +of educating the girl in ways that would have appalled Nathaniel and +reduced Theodora again to tears and apprehension.</p> + +<p>The bare room of the master's house was the stage upon which were set, in +turn, the scenes of distant city life. Vicariously Priscilla learned the +manners of a "real lady" under the most trying circumstances. Farwell +told her of plays, operas, and, over his deal table, they chatted in +brilliant restaurants. They walked gay streets and stood bewildered +before flashing shop windows. It was all dangerous, but fascinating, and +in the playing of the game Farwell grew old and drawn, while Priscilla +gradually came into her Heart's Desire of delight.</p> + +<p>"My Road!" she proudly thought. "My Road!"</p> + +<p>The old poem was recalled and was often repeated like a litany, while +life became more and more vital and thrilling with dull Kenmore as a +background and setting.</p> + +<p>Just about this time Jerry-Jo took to wearing his Sunday suit on week +days, thus proclaiming his aspirations and awaking the ribald jests of +his particular set.</p> + +<p>Mary Terhune, now partner of Mrs. McAdam, took note of Jerry-Jo's +appearance, and, on a certain afternoon in midwinter, when she, Long +Jean, and Mary McAdam sat by the range in the White Fish kitchen, fanned +a lively bit of gossip into flame.</p> + +<p>"Trade's a bit poor these days, eh, Jean?"</p> + +<p>Jean grunted over her cup of green tea.</p> + +<p>"Not so many children born as once was, eh? What you make of it, +Jean—the woman getting heady or—which?"</p> + +<p>Mary McAdam broke in.</p> + +<p>"What with poverty and the terrors of losing them, there's enough born to +my thinking. Time was when the young 'uns happened; they're thought more +on, these days. Women <i>should</i> have a say. If there's one thing a man +should keep his tongue off it's this matter of families!"</p> + +<p>To this outrageous sentiment the listeners replied merely by two audible +gulps of tea, and then Mary Terhune found grace to remark:</p> + +<p>"You certainly do talk most wonderful things, Mary McAdam. You be an +ornament to your sex, but only such women as you can grip them audacious +ideas. Let them be sowed broadcast and——"</p> + +<p>"Where would me, and such as me, be?" Long Jean muttered, defending her +profession.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Terhune tactfully turned the conversation:</p> + +<p>"Have you noticed the change in Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" she asked with a +mysterious shake of her head.</p> + +<p>"Any change for the better would be welcome," Mrs. McAdam retorted. "Have +another cup, Jean? Strong or weak?"</p> + +<p>"Strong. I says often, says I, that unless tea curls your tongue you +might just as well take water. When I'm on duty I keep a pot on the back +of the stove week in and week out; it do brace me powerful."</p> + +<p>Mrs. McAdam poured the tea into the outstretched cup and proceeded to +discuss Jerry-Jo.</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't the scamp go to the States and find himself instead of +worrying old Jerry's very life out of him—the vampire!"</p> + +<p>"He may have it in his mind," soothed Mary Terhune, "but the lad's deep +and far seeing like his Injun mother—beg pardon, Jean, the term's a +compliment, God save me!"</p> + +<p>"You've saved your face, Mrs. Terhune. Go on!"</p> + +<p>Jean had begun to resent, but the explanation mollified her.</p> + +<p>"More tea," she said quietly, "and you might stir the dregs a mite, Mrs. +McAdam; it's plain sinful to let the strength go to waste."</p> + +<p>"If I was Theodora Glenn," Mary Terhune went on, monotonously stirring +the cold liquid in her cup, "I'd have my eye on that girl of hers."</p> + +<p>And now the ingredients were prepared for the mixing!</p> + +<p>"What's Priscilla Glenn got to do with Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" Mrs. McAdam +asked sharply, fixing her little ferret eyes on the speaker.</p> + +<p>Long Jean bridled again and interjected:</p> + +<p>"And for why not? Young folks is young folks, and there ain't too many +boys for the gels. What with the States and the toll to death, the gels +can't be too particular, not casting my flings at Jerry-Jo, either. He's +a handsome lad and will get a footing some day. Glenn's girl ain't none +too good for him; he'd bring her to her senses. All that dancing and +fiddle-scraping at Master Farwell's is not to my liking. The goings-on +are evil-looking to my mind. The girl always was a parcel of +whim-whams—made up of odds and ends, as it was, of her fore-runners. +What <i>all</i> the children of the Glenns might have been—Priscilla is!"</p> + +<p>"So Jerry-Jo's fixed his bold eyes on the girl?" asked Mary McAdam. "It +bodes no good for her. She's a sunny creature and mighty taking in her +ways. I wish her no ill, and I hate to think of Jerry-Jo shadowing her +life till she forgets to dance and sing. For my part, I wish the master +were twenty-five years younger and could play for the lass to dance to +the end of their days."</p> + +<p>"And a poor outlook for me!" grumbled Jean humorously. "Another cup of +the tea, Mary Terhune, and make it stronger. I begin to feel the bitter +in my toes."</p> + +<p>And while this talk and more like it was permeating Kenmore, Jerry-Jo, +adorned and uncomfortable, did his own thinking and planned his own plans +after the manner of his mixed inheritance. He could not settle to any +task or give heed to any temptation from the States until he had made +Priscilla secure. The girl's age in no wise daunted McAlpin. His eighteen +years were all that were to be considered; he knew what he wanted, what +he meant to have. He could wait, he could bide the fulfillment of his +hopes, but one big, compelling subject at a time was all he could master.</p> + +<p>He secretly and furiously objected to the dancing and visits in Farwell's +cottage. He was ashamed to voice this feeling, for Farwell was his friend +and had taught him all he knew, but Farwell's age did not in the least +blind Jerry-Jo to the fact that he was a man, and he did not enjoy seeing +Priscilla so free and easy with any other of the male sex, be he ancient +enough to topple into the grave.</p> + +<p>"She'll dance for me—for me!" the young fellow ground his teeth. "I'll +make her forget to prance and grin unless she does it for me. The +master's just training her away from me and putting notions in her head. +I'll take her to the States—maybe her dancing will help us both there. +I don't mean to drudge as Jamsie Hornby does! Better things for me!"</p> + +<p>Sex attraction swayed Jerry-Jo madly in those days and he thought it +love, as many a better man had done before him. The blood of his mother +controlled him largely and he wished that he might carry the girl off to +his wigwam, and, at his leisure, with beads and blankets, or other less +tangible methods, win her and conquer her. But present conditions held +the boy in check and compelled him to adopt more modern tactics. He +stole, when he couldn't beg, from his poor father all the money Jerry +wrenched from an occasional day's work. With this he bought books for +Priscilla, vaguely realizing that these would most interest her, but his +selection often made her laugh. Piqued by her indifference, Jerry-Jo +plotted a thing that led, later, to tragic results. Remembering the +favour Priscilla had long ago shown for the book from Far Hill Place, he +decided to utilize the taste of the absent owner, and the owner himself, +for his own ends, not realizing that Priscilla had never connected the +cripple Jerry-Jo had described, with the musician of the magic summer +afternoon that had set her life in new currents.</p> + +<p>It was an easy matter to enter the Far Hill Place, and, where one was +not troubled with conscience, a simple thing to select at random, but +with economy, books from the well-filled shelves. These gifts presently +found their way to Priscilla, cunningly disguised as mail packages. +Inadvertently the very book Priscilla had once cried over came to her and +touched her strangely.</p> + +<p>"Why should he send me these—send me this?" she asked Jerry-Jo, who had +brought the package to her.</p> + +<p>"He always wanted you to have it. I told you that; he remembers, I +suppose, and wants you to have it. He said it was more yours than his." +To test her Jerry-Jo was hiding behind Travers.</p> + +<p>"I'd walk a hundred miles over the rock on bare feet to thank him," the +girl replied, her big eyes shining. And with the words there entered into +Jerry-Jo's distorted imagination a concrete and lasting jealousy of poor +Dick Travers, who was innocent of any actual memory of Priscilla Glenn. +Travers at that time was studying as few college men do, always with the +spur of lost years and a big ambition lashing him on.</p> + +<p>During that winter the stolen books from the Far Hill Place caused +Priscilla much wonderment and some little embarrassment. She had to keep +them secret owing to her father's sentiment, and, for some reason, she +did not confide in Farwell. This new and unexpected interest in her life +was so foreign to anything with which the master had to do that she felt +no inclination to share it.</p> + +<p>"But I cannot understand," she often said to Jerry-Jo. "I'd like to write +to him. Do you think you could find out for me where he is? That he +should even remember me! I would not have him think me so ungrateful as +I must seem."</p> + +<p>She and Jerry-Jo were in the path leading to Lonely Farm from Kenmore as +she spoke, and suddenly something the young fellow said brought her to a +sharp standstill.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I suppose, after your cutting up in the woods that day he wants to +make you remember him."</p> + +<p>This was an outburst that Jerry-Jo permitted himself without forethought. +He was using Travers as an old tribeman might have used torture, to test +his own bravery and endurance, but the effect upon Priscilla was so +startling and unexpected that he fell back bewildered.</p> + +<p>"In—the—the—woods?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Sure. That time your father drove you home."</p> + +<p>For a full moment Priscilla stared helplessly, then she began to see +light.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean," she gasped, "that he who made me dance—was the boy of the +Hill Place?"</p> + +<p>"As if you did not know it!" Jerry-Jo grunted.</p> + +<p>"But Jerry-Jo you said he—that boy was a poor, twisted thing, ugly past +all belief, while he who played and laughed that day was like an angel of +light just showing me the way to heaven!"</p> + +<p>And now Jerry-Jo's dark face was not pleasant to look upon.</p> + +<p>"Can't a twisted thing become straight?" he muttered; "can't a devil trap +himself out like an—an angel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Jerry-Jo, he who played for me in the woods could never have been +evil. Why, all his life he had been making himself into something big +and fine. He put into words the things I had always thought and dreamed +about—an ideal was what he called it! And to think I never knew! And he +remembered and wanted to be kind! I shall worship him now while I live. +And when he comes back to the Hill Place I will go and thank him, even +if my father should kill me. I shall never be happy until I can explain. +What a stupid he must think me!"</p> + +<p>After that the secret became the sacredest thing in Priscilla's life and +the most tormenting in Jerry-Jo's. They were both at ages when such an +occurrence would appeal to a girl's sentimentality and a young man's +hatred.</p> + +<p>The family did not return to the Hill Place for many summers, and only +once during the following years did Priscilla's name pass Travers's +lips.</p> + +<p>Apropos of something they were talking about he said to Helen Travers: "I +wonder what has become of that little dancing dervish up in Canada? She +wasn't plain, ordinary stuff, but I suppose she'll be knocked into shape. +Maybe that half-breed, Jerry-Jo, will get her when she's been reduced to +his level. There are not girls enough to go around up there, I fancy. +That little thing, though, was too spiritual to be crushed and +remodelled. As she danced that day, her scarlet cape flying out in the +breeze, she looked like a living flame darting up from the red rock. +And those awful words she uttered—poor little pagan! Jerry-Jo told +me afterward what the lure of the States meant: it's a provincial +expression. Mother, if the lure should ever control that girl of Lonely +Farm I wish we might greet her, for safety's sake."</p> + +<p>But it was not likely that either of the Traverses for a moment conceived +of the reality of Priscilla leaving the In-Place, and in time even the +memory of her became blurred to Dick by the eternal verities of his +strenuous young life.</p> + +<p>Gradually his lameness disappeared until a slight hesitation at times was +all that remained. Five years of college, two abroad—one with Helen, one +with Doctor Ledyard—and then Richard Thornton Travers (Helen had, when +he went to college, insisted for the first time upon the middle name) +hung out his modest sign—it looked brazenly glaring to him—under that +of Thomas R. Ledyard, and nervously awaited the first call upon him. He +was twenty-five when he started life, and Priscilla Glenn, back in +forgotten Kenmore, was nearing nineteen, with Jerry-Jo in hot pursuit +behind her. As to Anton Farwell, there was no doubt about his age now. +Not even the very old called him young, and there was a pathos about him +that attracted the attention of those with whom he had lived so long.</p> + +<p>"He looks haunted," Mary Terhune ventured; "he starts at times when one +speaks sudden, real pitiful like. The look of his eyes, too, has the +queer flash of them as sees forward as well as back. Do you mind, Mrs. +McAdam, how 'tis said that them as comes nigh to drowning have a glimpse +on before as well as the picture of all that has past?"</p> + +<p>"I've heard the same," nodded Mary McAdam.</p> + +<p>"Belike the master remembers and often looks to the end of his journey. +Well, he's been a good harmless sort, as men go. He's kept the children +out of trouble far more than one could expect, and he's been a merciful +creature to humans and beasts. I wonder what he had in his life before he +washed up from the <i>La Belle</i>?"</p> + +<p>All this seemed to end the discussion.</p> + +<p>Mary McAdam was an important personage about that time. The White Fish +Lodge had become famous. Without bar or special privilege of any sort, +the house was patronized by the best class of tourist. Mary was a born +proprietress, and, while she extracted the last penny due her, always +gave full value in return. She and Mary Terhune did the cooking; a bevy +of clean, young Indian girls from Wyland Island served as waitresses and +maids, their quaint, keen reserve was charming, and no better public +house could have been found on the Little or Big Bay.</p> + +<p>Priscilla drifted to the Lodge as naturally as a flower turns to the sun. +The easy-going people, the laughter and merriment appealed strongly to +her, and again did she cause Jerry-Jo serious displeasure and arouse her +father's lurking suspicions.</p> + +<p>"Watch her! watch her!" was his warning, and Theodora returned to her +fears and tears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>Anton Farwell had, little by little, accepted the fate of those who, +deprived of many blessings, learn to depend on a few. As the remaining +senses are sharpened by the loss of one, so in this man's life the +cramping process, begun by his own wrongdoing, and prolonged and +completed by other conditions, had the effect of focussing all his power +on the atoms that went to the making up of the daily record of his days. +Had he kept a diary it would have been interesting from its very lack of +large interest. And yet, with all this narrowing down, a certain fineness +and purpose evolved that were both touching and inspiring. He never +complained, not even to himself. After recognizing the power which +Ledyard held in his life, he relinquished the one hope that had held him +to the past. Then, for a year or two, the light of the doctor's contempt, +which had been turned on him, took the zest from the small efforts he had +made for better living and caused him to distrust himself. He saw himself +what he knew Ledyard thought him—a mean, cowardly creature, and yet, in +his better moments, he knew this was not so.</p> + +<p>"Men have made friends of mice and insects in prison," he argued; "they +have kept their reason by so doing; why, in heaven's name, shouldn't I +play with these people here and make life possible?"</p> + +<p>But try as he might he found his courage failing, and more and more he +dwelt apart and clung to the few—Priscilla Glenn, Mary McAdam, and old +Jerry McAlpin—who regarded him in the light of a priest to whom they +might confess freely.</p> + +<p>Then one of Farwell's dogs died and he was genuinely anxious at the +effect this had upon him.</p> + +<p>"So this is what I've come to!" he muttered as he buried the poor brute, +while the tears fell from his eyes and the other dog whined dolorously +beside him—"broken hearted over—a mongrel!" But he got another dog!</p> + +<p>For a time Farwell vigorously set himself against depending upon +Priscilla Glenn as a support in his narrowing sphere. Many things +threatened such a friendship—Nathaniel, Jerry-Jo, and the girl +herself—for Priscilla, during the first years of Nathaniel's relaxed +severity, was like a bee sipping every flower, and Farwell was not at +all confident that anything he had to give would hold even her passing +interest for long. Then, too, like a many-wounded creature, he dreaded +a new danger, even though for a moment it gave promise of comfort. But +finally Priscilla got her bearings and more and more brought all her +powers to bear upon one ambition.</p> + +<p>The childish madness that prompted her to run away from anything that +hurt or angered her, gradually disappeared, and in its place came a staid +determination to seek her fortunes, soon, in some place distant from +Kenmore.</p> + +<p>The tourists opened a new vista to her, but many of them, with stupid +ignorance, mistook her position and traditions. She was offered +occupations as cook, maid, or laundress. She had sense of humour enough +to laugh at these, and often wished she dared repeat them for her +father's edification.</p> + +<p>"The daughter of the King of Lonely Farm," she said to Farwell one day +with her mocking smile and comical courtesy "is bidden to the service of +Mrs. Flighty High as skivvy. If this comes to the king's ears, 'twill +mean the head of Mrs. Flighty High!"</p> + +<p>Farwell joined her in her amusement and felt the charm of her coming +womanhood.</p> + +<p>"But there is one up at the Lodge," Priscilla went on more gravely, "who +is not such a wild fool. She has a sick baby, and for two nights she and +I have watched and tended together. She says I have the touch and nature +of the true nurse and she has told me how in the States, and England, +too, they train young girls in this work. She says we Canadians are in +great demand, and the calling is a wonderful one, Master Farwell."</p> + +<p>This interested Anton Farwell a good deal and he and Priscilla discussed +it often after the woman who had just broached it had departed. It seemed +such a normal, natural opening for Priscilla if the time really came for +her to go away. The doubt that she would eventually go was slight in +Farwell's heart. He, keener than others, saw the closing-in of +conditions. He was not blind to Jerry-Jo's primitive attempts to attract +the girl's attention, but he was not deceived. When the moment came that +Priscilla recognized the half-breed's real thought, Farwell knew her +quick impulse would, as of old, be to fly away. She was like a wild bird, +he often pondered; she would give to great lengths, flutter close, and +love tenderly, but no restraining or harsh touch could do aught but set +her to flight.</p> + +<p>At twenty-three Jerry-Jo surlily and passionately came to the conclusion +that he must in some way capture his prize. Other youths were wearing +gaudy ties and imperilling their Sunday bests; he was letting precious +time slip. Then, too, by Farwell's advice, old Jerry was growing rigid +along financial lines, and at last the <i>States</i> took definite shape in +Jerry-Jo's mind, but he meant to have Priscilla before he heeded the +lure. With all his brazen conceit and daring he intuitively knew that +the girl had never thought of him as he thought of her, and he dared not +awaken her by legitimate means. Quite in keeping with his unrestrained +nature, he plotted, indirectly, to secure what otherwise might escape +him. Fully realizing Nathaniel's attitude toward his daughter, counting +his distorted conceptions and foolish pride, Jerry-Jo began to construct +an obstacle that would shut Priscilla from her father's protection and +cause her to accept what others had to offer—others, being always and +ever, himself!</p> + +<p>Once Lonely Farm was closed to the girl, other houses in the serenely +moral In-Place would inevitably slam their doors. The cunning of the +half-breed was diabolic in its sureness. Anton Farwell could not assume +responsibility for Priscilla if all Kenmore turned its back on her, and +in that hour the girl would, of course, come running or crawling—never +dancing—to him, Jerry-Jo!</p> + +<p>It was all for her own good, the evil fellow thought.</p> + +<p>"I'll be kind to her when I get her. I'm only playing her with the hook +in her mouth."</p> + +<p>But Jerry-Jo was scheming without considering the Lure, which never was +long absent from Priscilla's mind at that time.</p> + +<p>One early September afternoon Priscilla presented herself at Farwell's +cabin in so startling a manner that she roused the man as nothing +previously in his association with her had ever done.</p> + +<p>He was sitting at the west window of his living-room, his back toward the +door leading to the Green. For a wonder, what he was reading had absorbed +him, and he was far and away from the In-Place. He had taken to fine, old +literature lately and had found, to his delight, that his mind was +capable of appreciating it.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wisdom, slow product of laborious years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The only fruit that life's cold winter bears,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the fierce storm of passion torn away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should some remain in rich, gen'rous soil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They long lie hid, and must be raised with toil;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faintly they struggle with inclement skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sooner born than the poor planter dies."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>With such word-comfort did Farwell dig, from other's experiences, crude +guidings for himself! And at that moment a stir outside the open door +caused him to turn and confront what, in the excited moment, seemed an +apparition from the past, which, for him, was sealed and barred.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he ejaculated under his breath and started to his feet. A +visitor from the Lodge apparently had descended upon him.</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon," he said aloud, and then a laugh, familiar and ringing, +brought the colour to his pale, thin face.</p> + +<p>The girl came in, threw back the veil from her merry face, and confronted +Farwell.</p> + +<p>"Miss Priscilla Glenn, sir! Behold her in the battered finery of the +place she is going to—to grace some day!"</p> + +<p>Then Priscilla wheeled about lightly and displayed her gown to Farwell's +astonished eyes.</p> + +<p>"Cast-offs," she explained; "the Honourable Mrs. Jones from the States +left them with Mrs. McAlpin for the poor. Just imagine the 'poor' +glinting around in this gay silk gown all frayed at the hem and in holes +under the arms! The hat and veil, too, go with the smart frock; likewise +the scarf of rainbow colours. But, oh! Mr. Farwell, how do I look as a +real lady in my damaged outfit?"</p> + +<p>Farwell stared without speaking. He had grown so used to the change in +the girl since the time when he had prevailed upon Glenn to loosen the +rein upon her, that the even stream of their intercourse had been +unruffled. He had passed from teacher to friendly guide, from guide to +good comrade; but here he was suddenly confronting her—man to woman!</p> + +<p>All his misfortune and limitations had but erected a shield of age about +him beneath which smouldered dangerously, but unconsciously, all the +forbidden and denied passions and sentiments of a male creature of early +middle life.</p> + +<p>In thinking afterward of the shock Priscilla gave him, Farwell was always +glad to remember that his first thought was for her, her danger, her +need.</p> + +<p>"I declare!" he exclaimed. "I did not know you, Priscilla Glenn."</p> + +<p>His tone had a new ring in it, a vibration of defence—the astonished +male on guard against the attack of a subtle force whose power he could +not estimate.</p> + +<p>"And no wonder. I did not know myself when I first saw myself. Do you +know, Mr. Farwell, I never thought about my—my face, much, but it is +really a—very nice face, isn't it? As faces go, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Farwell returned, looking at her critically and speaking slowly. +"Yes, you are very—beautiful. I had not thought of it before, either."</p> + +<p>"Drop me down, now, in the States, Mr. Farwell, and I fancy that with my +looks and my dancing I might—well, go! What do you think?"</p> + +<p>She was preening herself before a small mirror and did not notice the +elderly man, who, under her fascination, was being transformed.</p> + +<p>"You're a regular Frankenstein," he muttered, while the consciousness +of the blue eyes in the dusky skin, the long slenderness of her body, +and the hue of her strange hair grew upon him. "Do you know what a +Frankenstein is?"</p> + +<p>"No." And now Priscilla, weary of her play and self-contemplation, turned +about and took a chair opposite Farwell. "Tell me."</p> + +<p>So he told her, but she shook her head.</p> + +<p>"You've only helped me to find myself; you did not make me," she said +with a little sigh. "Oh, Mr. Farwell, I do—much thinking up at Lonely +Farm. The winters are long, and the nights, too. You know there is a +queer little plant beside the spring at the foot of our garden; it has +roots long enough and thick enough for a thing twice its size. It grew +strong and sure underground before it ventured up. It blossomed last +summer; an odd flower it had. I think I am like that. You've taught me +to—well, know myself. I shall not shame you, Master Farwell. You know we +of the lonesome In-Place make friends with strange objects; everything in +nature talks to us, if we will but listen. You have taught me to listen, +too. Back a piece in the woods are a strong young hemlock and a little +white birch. For years I have watched and tended them. When I was a small +girl I likened the hemlock to you, sir, and there was I, leaning and +huddling close to you, like the ghostly stripling of the woods. Well, I +noticed to-day, Mr. Farwell, the birch stands quite securely; it doesn't +bend for support on the hemlock, but it is standing friendly all the +same. I think"—and here Priscilla clasped her hands close and +outstretched them—"I think I am soon going away!"</p> + +<p>Her eyes were tear-dimmed, her face very earnest.</p> + +<p>"I wish—you would give up the childish folly, Priscilla." A fear rose +in Farwell's eyes. "What could you, such an one as you have become, do +out—in the States? It is madness—sheer, brutal madness."</p> + +<p>Priscilla shook her head.</p> + +<p>"You think it childish folly? Why, I have never lost sight of it for a +day. You have not understood me if you have imagined that. I have always +known I must go. Lately I have felt the nearness of the going, and it is +the <i>how</i> to break away and begin that puzzle me. I am ready."</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, you are a wild child still, playing with dangerous tools. +You cannot comprehend the trouble into which you are willing, in your +blindness, to plunge. Why, you are a—a woman; a beautiful one! Do you +know what the world does with such, unless they are guarded and +protected?"</p> + +<p>"What does it do?" The true eyes held Farwell commandingly, and with a +sense of dismay he looked back at the only world he really knew: the +world of his own ungoverned passions and selfishness. A kind of shame +came over him, and he felt he was no safe guide. There were worlds and +worlds! He had sold his birthright; this woman, bent upon finding hers, +might inherit a fairer kingdom.</p> + +<p>"What does it do, Master Farwell?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. It depends upon—you. It is like a great quarry—I have +read somewhere something like this—we must all mould and chisel our +characters; some of us crush them and chip them. It isn't always the +world's fault. God help us!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla looked at him with large, shining eyes and the maternal in her +rose to the call of his sad recognition of failure where she was to go +with such brave courage.</p> + +<p>"Do not fear for me," she said gently; "'twould be a poor return if I +failed, after all you have done for me."</p> + +<p>"I—what have I done?"</p> + +<p>"Everything. Have you ever thought what sort I would have been had Lonely +Farm been my only training?" she smiled faintly, and her girlish face, in +the setting of the faded hat and soiled veil, struck Farwell again by its +change, which now seemed to have settled into permanency. Of course it +was only the ridiculous fashion of the world he once knew, but he could +not free himself of the fancy that Priscilla was more her real self in +the shabby trappings than she had ever been in the absurd costumes of the +In-Place.</p> + +<p>With the acceptance of the fact that the girl really meant to get away +and at once, a wave of dreariness swept over him. He thought of the time +on ahead when his last vital interest would be taken from him. Then he +aroused from his stupor and brought his mind to bear upon the inevitable; +the here and now.</p> + +<p>"It's a big drop in your ambition, Priscilla," he said; "you used to +think you could dance your way to your throne."</p> + +<p>"There is no throne now, Master Farwell. I'm just thinking all the time +of My Road."</p> + +<p>"But there's the Heart's Desire at the end, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I do not think I would want it to be a throne."</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! love—my own life—the giving and giving just where I long to give. +It's splendid to tramp along your road, if it <i>is</i> your road, and be +jolly and friendly with those you care for. It will all be so different +from Kenmore, where one has to take what one must."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how Jerry-Jo will feel about all this?"</p> + +<p>"Jerry-Jo! And what right has he to think at all—about me?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes flashed with mischief and daring.</p> + +<p>"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed with amusement. "Just big, Indian-boy Jerry-Jo! +We've played together and quarrelled together, but you're all wrong, +Master Farwell, if you think he cares about me! He knows better than +that—far, far, better."</p> + +<p>But even as she spoke the light and fun left her eyes. She looked older, +more thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it queer?" she said after a pause.</p> + +<p>"What, Priscilla?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, life and people and the things that go to their making? You're quite +wrong about Jerry-Jo. I'm sure you're wrong."</p> + +<p>Then suddenly she sprang up.</p> + +<p>"I must go," she said abruptly; "go and exchange these rags for my own +plain things. I only wanted to surprise you, sir; and how deadly serious +we have grown."</p> + +<p>She passed out of the cottage without a word more. Farwell watched her +across the Green and up to the Lodge. He was disturbed and restless. The +old fever of escape overcame him. With the thought of Priscilla's flight +into the open, he strained against the trap that Ledyard had caught him +in. The guide who, he knew, never permitted him to escape his vigilance, +became a new and alarming obstacle, and Farwell set his teeth grimly. +Then he muttered:</p> + +<p>"Curse him! curse him!" and an emotion which he had believed was long +since dead rose hotly in his consciousness. Before the dread spectre, +suddenly imbued with vitality, Farwell reeled and covered his face. +Murder was in his heart—the old madness of desire to wipe out, by any +means, that which barred his way to what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"My God!" he moaned; "my God! I—I thought I—was master. I thought it +was dead in me."</p> + +<p>Farwell ate no evening meal that night. Early he closed and locked his +outer door, drew the dark green shades, and lighted his lamp. His hands +were clammy and cold, and he could not blot out with book or violin the +horror of Charles Martin's face as it looked up at him that night so long +ago. Way on toward morning Farwell paced his room trying to forget, but +he could not.</p> + +<p>But Priscilla, after leaving Farwell, dressed again in her plain +serviceable gown and hat, had made her way toward the farm. Her happy, +light-hearted mood was past; she felt unaccountably gloomy, and as she +walked on she sought to explain herself to herself, and presently +Jerry-Jo came into focus and would not stir from her contemplation. Yes, +it was Jerry-Jo's personality that disturbed her, and it was Farwell's +words that had torn the shield she herself had erected, and set the truth +free. Yes, she had played with Jerry-Jo; she had tested her coquetry and +charm upon him for lack of better material. In her outbreaks of youthful +spirits she had claimed him as prey because the others of his sex were +less desirable. Jerry-Jo had that subtle, physical attraction that +responded to her youthful allurements, but the young fellow himself, +taken seriously, repelled her, and Farwell had taken Jerry-Jo seriously!</p> + +<p>That was it! She was no longer a child. She was a woman and must remember +it. Undoubtedly Jerry-Jo himself had never given the matter a moment's +deep thought. Well, she must take care that he never did. Jerry-Jo in +earnest would be unbearable.</p> + +<p>And then, just as she reached the pasture bars separating her father's +farm from the red rock highway, Jerry-Jo McAlpin strode in sight from the +wood path into which the highway ran. She waited for him and gave him a +nervous smile as he came near. His first words startled her out of her +dull mood.</p> + +<p>"I've been up to the Hill Place. Him and her's there for a few days."</p> + +<p>"Him and her!" Priscilla repeated, her face flushing. "Oh, him and her!"</p> + +<p>"Sure!" McAlpin was holding her with a hard, fixed gaze.</p> + +<p>In the mesh that was closing about Priscilla, strangely enough names +were always largely eliminated. They might have altered her course later +on, might have held her to the past, but Kenmore dealt briefly with +personalities and visualized whatever it could. The name Travers had +rarely, if ever, been spoken in Priscilla's presence. "The Hill Place +folks" was the title found sufficient for general use.</p> + +<p>"And I was remembering," Jerry-Jo went on, "how once you said you wanted +to thank him for—for the books. We might take the canoe, come to-morrow, +and the day is fine, and pay a visit."</p> + +<p>Still Priscilla did not notice the gleam in McAlpin's keen eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh! if I only dared, Jerry-Jo! What an adventure it would be, to be +sure. And how good of you to think of it."</p> + +<p>"What hinders?"</p> + +<p>"Father would never forgive me!"</p> + +<p>"And are you always to be at the beck and whistle of your father even in +your pleasures?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla was in just the attitude of mind to receive this suggestion +with appreciation.</p> + +<p>"There's no reason why I shouldn't go if I want to," she said with an +uplift of her head.</p> + +<p>"And—don't you want to?" Jerry-Jo's eyes were taking in the loveliness +of the raised face as the setting sun fell upon it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do want to! I'll go, Jerry-Jo."</p> + +<p>Then McAlpin came close to her and said in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, give us a kiss for pay."</p> + +<p>So taken out of herself was the girl, so overpowered by the excitement +of adventure, that before she realized her part in the small drama of +passionate youth, she gave a mocking laugh and twisted her lips saucily.</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo had her in his arms on the instant, and the hot kiss he pressed +on her mouth roused her to fury.</p> + +<p>"If you ever touch me again," she whispered, struggling into freedom, +"I'll hate you to the last day of my life!"</p> + +<p>So had she spoken to her father years ago; so would she always speak when +her reservations were threatened. "I declare I am afraid to go with you +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>McAlpin fell back in shamed contrition.</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid," he muttered. "I reckon I was bidding +you—good-bye. Him and me is different. Once you see him and he sees you, +it's good-bye to Jerry-Jo McAlpin."</p> + +<p>Something in the words and tone of humility brought Priscilla, with a +bound, back to a kindlier mood. After all, it was a tribute that McAlpin +was paying her. She must hold him in check, that was all.</p> + +<p>They parted with no great change. There had been a flurry, but it had +served to clear the atmosphere—for her at least.</p> + +<p>But Nathaniel, that evening in the kitchen, managed to arouse in the girl +the one state of mind needed to drive her on her course.</p> + +<p>"What was the meaning of that scuffling by the bars a time back?" he +asked, eyeing Priscilla with the old look of suspicious antagonism. Every +nerve in the girl's body twitched with resentment and her spirit flared +forth. She shielded herself behind the one flimsy subterfuge that Glenn +could never understand or tolerate.</p> + +<p>"A kiss you mean. What's a kiss? You call that a scuffle?"</p> + +<p>Theodora, who was washing the tea dishes while Priscilla wiped them, took +her usual course and began to cry dispiritedly and forlornly.</p> + +<p>"What's between you and—McAlpin?" Nathaniel asked, scowling darkly.</p> + +<p>"Between us? What need for anything between us?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla ceased smiling and looked defiant.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you better marry that half-breed and have done with it."</p> + +<p>"It's more like—would <i>he</i> marry me?"</p> + +<p>This was unfortunate.</p> + +<p>"And why not?" Nathaniel shook the ashes from his pipe angrily. "A little +more such performance as I saw to-day and no decent man will marry you! +As for Jerry-Jo, he'll marry you if I say so! You foul my nest, miss, and +out you go!"</p> + +<p>"Husband! husband!" And with this Theodora dropped a cup, one of Glenn's +mother's cups, and somehow this added fire to his fury.</p> + +<p>"And when the time comes, wife, you make your choice: Go with her, who +you have trained into what she is, or stay with me who has been defied in +his own home, by them nearest and closest to him."</p> + +<p>Priscilla breathed fast and hard. The tangible wall of misunderstanding +between her and her father stifled her to-night as it never had before. +Again she realized the finality of something—the breaking of the old +ties, the helpless sense of groping for what lay hidden, but none the +less real, just on before.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>The next day was gloriously clear and threateningly warm. Such days do +not come to Kenmore in September except to lure the unheeding to acts of +folly. And at two o'clock in the afternoon Priscilla, from the kitchen +door, saw Jerry-Jo paddling his canoe in still, Indian fashion around +Lone Tree Island. Theodora was off erranding, and Nathaniel, as far as +human knowledge went, was in some distant field; he had started off +directly after dinner. Priscilla was ready for her adventure. With the +natural desire of youth, she had decked herself out in her modest +finery—a stiffly starched white gown of a cheap but pretty design, a +fluff of soft lace at throat and wrist, and, over it, the old red cape +that years before had added to her appearance as she danced on the rocks. +Perhaps remembering that, she had utilized the garment and was thankful +that cloth lasted so long in Kenmore!</p> + +<p>The coquetry of girlhood rose happily in Priscilla's heart. Jerry-Jo had +become again simply a link in her chain of events; he had lost the +importance the flash of the evening before had given him; he was not +forgiven, but for the time he was, as a human being, forgotten. He was +Jerry-Jo who was to paddle her to her Heart's Desire! That was it, and +the old words, set to music of her own, were the signals used to attract +McAlpin's attention. But the merry call brought Glenn from out the barn +just as the canoe touched the rocks lightly, and Priscilla prepared to +step in.</p> + +<p>"Where you two going?" he shouted in the tone that always roused the +worst in Priscilla's nature. Jerry-Jo paused, paddle in air, but his +companion whispered:</p> + +<p>"Go on!" To Nathaniel she flung back: "We're going to have a bit of fun, +and why not, father? I'm tired of staying at home."</p> + +<p>This was unfortunate: on the home question Glenn was very clear and +decided.</p> + +<p>"Come back!" he ordered, but the little canoe had shot out into the +Channel. "Hi, there McAlpin, do you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Go on!" again whispered Priscilla, and Jerry-Jo heard only her soft +command, for his senses were filled with the loveliness of her charming, +defiant face set under the broad brim of a hat around which was twined +a wreath of natural flowers as blue as the girl's laughing eyes.</p> + +<p>Nathaniel, defied and helpless, stood by the barn door and impotently +fumed as the canoe rounded Lone Tree Island and was lost to his +infuriated sight.</p> + +<p>"You'll catch it," Jerry-Jo comforted when pursuit was impossible, and he +had the responsibility of the rebel on his hands. "I wouldn't be in your +place, and you need not drag me in, for I'd have turned back had you said +the word."</p> + +<p>A fleeting contempt stirred the beauty of the girl's face for a moment, +and then she told him of that which was seething in her heart.</p> + +<p>"What does it matter, Jerry-Jo? All my life, ever since I can remember, +I have been growing surely to what is now near at hand. I cannot abide my +father; nor can he find comfort in me. Why should I darken the lives of +my parents and have no life of my own? The lure of the States has always +been in my thought and now it calls near and loud."</p> + +<p>McAlpin stared helplessly at her, and her beauty, enhanced by her unusual +garments, moved him unwholesomely.</p> + +<p>"What you mean?" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Only this: It would be no strange thing did a boy start for the States. +A little money, a ticket on a steamer, and—pouf! Off the boys and men +go to make their lives. Well, then, some day you will—find me gone, +Jerry-Jo. Gone to make my life. Will you miss me?"</p> + +<p>This question caused McAlpin to stop paddling.</p> + +<p>"You won't be—let!" he murmured; "you—a girl!"</p> + +<p>"I, a girl!" Priscilla laughed scornfully. "You will see. This day, after +I have thanked him up yonder, I am going to ask his mother to help me get +away. Surely a lady such as she could help me. I will not ask much of +her, only the guiding hand to a safe place where I can—live! Oh! can you +understand how all my life I have been smothered and stifled? I often +wonder what sort I will be—out there! I'm willing to suffer while I +learn, but Jerry-Jo"—and here the excited voice paused—"I have a +strange feeling of—myself! I sometimes feel as if there were two of me, +the one holding, demanding, and protecting the other. I will not have men +always making my life and shielding me; the woman of me will have its +way. Men and boys never know this feeling."</p> + +<p>And Jerry-Jo could, of course, understand nothing of this, but the thing +he had set out to do, more in rude, brutish fun than anything else, +assumed graver purpose. A new and ugly look grew in his bold eyes, a +sinister smile on his red mouth, which showed the points of his white, +fang-like teeth. But Priscilla, too absorbed with her own thoughts, did +not notice.</p> + +<p>It was four o'clock when the canoe touched the landing spot of Far Hill +Place, and Priscilla sprang out.</p> + +<p>"I'll bide here; don't be long," said McAlpin.</p> + +<p>But Priscilla paused and glanced up at the sky.</p> + +<p>"It's darkening," she faltered, a shyness overcoming her. "I +smell—thunder. Don't you think you better come up with me Jerry-Jo? +Suppose they are not at home?"</p> + +<p>"They'll be back soon in that case, and as for a shower, that would +hasten them and you would be under shelter. I can turn the canoe over me +and be dry as a mouse in a hayrick. I'll not go with you, not I. Do your +own part, with them looking on as will enjoy it."</p> + +<p>"I believe you are—jealous, Jerry-Jo." This was said idly and more to +fill in an awkward pause than for anything else.</p> + +<p>"And much good that would do me, after what you've just said. If you're +bound for the devil, Priscilla, 'tis little power I have to stay you."</p> + +<p>"I'm not—for the devil!" Priscilla flung back, and started sturdily up +the hill path toward the house hidden among the trees.</p> + +<p>Out of McAlpin's sight, the girl went more slowly, while she sought to +arrange her mode of attack. If her host were what he once was, he would +make everything easy after she recalled herself to him. As for the +mother, Priscilla had only a dim memory of her, but something told her +that the call would be a happy and memorable one after the first moment.</p> + +<p>A bit of tune cheered the girl; a repeating of the Road Song helped even +more, for it resurrected most vividly the young fellow who had introduced +music and happiness into her life.</p> + +<p>"I'll be doshed!" she cried. The word had not passed her lips for years; +it brought a laugh and a complete restoration of poise. So she reached +the house. Smoke was issuing from the chimney. A fire had been made even +on this hot day, but like enough it was to dry the place after the years +of closed doors and windows. Evidently it was a many-houred fire, for the +plume of smoke was faint and steady. The broad door was set wide but the +windows were still boarded up at the front of the house, though the side +ones had escaped that protection.</p> + +<p>Priscilla knocked and waited. No reply or sound came in response, and +presently a low muttering of distant thunder broke.</p> + +<p>"That will bring them in short order," she said, "and surely they will +not object if I make myself comfortable until they come."</p> + +<p>She went inside. The room had the appearance of one from which the owner +had long been absent, that unaccountable, vacant look, although a +work-bag hung on the back of a chair by the roaring fire, and a blot of +oil lay on the table near the lamp which had evidently been recently +filled. Back of these tokens lay a wide sense of desolation.</p> + +<p>For a moment Priscilla hesitated before sitting down; her courage failed, +but a second thought reconciled conditions with a brief stay after long +absence, and she decided to wait.</p> + +<p>And while she waited, suddenly and alarmingly, the storm burst! The +darkness of the room and the wooded space outside had deceived her: there +was no escape now!</p> + +<p>She was concerned for the people she had come to see. Jerry-Jo, she knew, +would crawl under his boat and be as dry as a tortoise in its shell. But +those others!</p> + +<p>With this thought she set about, mechanically, making the room +comfortable. She piled on fresh wood and noticed that it was so wet that +it sputtered dangerously. Presently the wind changed sharply, and a blast +of almost icy coldness carried the driving rain halfway across the floor.</p> + +<p>It was something of a struggle to close the heavy door, for it opened +outward, and Priscilla was drenched by the time it was made secure. +Breathing hard, she made her way to the fire and knelt before it. The +glow drew her attention from the darkness of the space back and around +her.</p> + +<p>It was unfortunate and depressing, and she had no choice but to make +herself as comfortable as she might, though a sense of painful uneasiness +grew momentarily. At first she imagined it was fear of what she must +encounter upon her return home; then she felt sure it was her dread of +meeting the people for whom she had risked so much. Finally Jerry-Jo +loomed in the foreground of her thought and an entirely new terror was +born in her soul.</p> + +<p>"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed aloud as his name passed her lips. "Jerry-Jo, to +be sure. My! how thankful I'd be to see him this instant!"</p> + +<p>And with the assertion she turned shudderingly toward the door. The gloom +behind her only emphasized her nervousness.</p> + +<p>"I'll—I'll have to go!" she whispered suddenly, while the wind and the +slashing of sleety rain defied her. "It will be better out of doors, bad +as it is!"</p> + +<p>The grim loneliness of four walls, compared with the dangers of the open, +was worse. But when Priscilla, trembling and panting, reached the door +and pushed, she found that the storm was pitting its strength against +hers and she could not budge it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," she half sobbed; "if I must, I must." And she stealthily +tiptoed back to the warmth and light as if fearing to arouse something, +she knew not what, in the dim place.</p> + +<p>There was no way of estimating time. The minutes were like hours and the +hours were like minutes while Priscilla sat alone. As a matter of fact, +it was after seven when steps, unmistakable steps, sounded on the porch +and carried both apprehension and relief to the storm-bound prisoner +inside.</p> + +<p>"Thank heaven!" breathed she, and sprang to her feet. She was midway in +the room when the door opened, and, as if flayed forward by the lashing +storm, Jerry-Jo broke into the shadow and drew the heavy oak door after +him. In a black panic of fear Priscilla saw him turn the key in the lock +before he spoke a word to her; then he came forward, flung his wet cap +toward the hearth, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked quickly as Priscilla's white face +confronted him. "Disappointed, I suppose. Do you begrudge me a bit of +warmth and shelter? God knows I'm drenched to the bone. The rain came up +from the earth as well as down from the clouds. It's a devil's storm and +no mistake. What you staring at, Priscilla? Had you forgotten me? Thought +me dead, and now you're looking at my ghost? Didn't I wait long enough +for you? Where are the—others?"</p> + +<p>This seemed to clarify and steady the situation and Priscilla gave a +slight laugh:</p> + +<p>"To be sure. You did not know. They—they were away. The storm came up +suddenly. I had to wait. You are wet through and through, Jerry-Jo. It's +good we have such a fire. You'll be comfortable in a moment. I'm glad you +came; I was getting—afraid."</p> + +<p>"Let's see if there is any oil in the lamp!" Jerry-Jo exclaimed. He was +in no mood for darkness himself.</p> + +<p>"They must have filled it before they went," Priscilla answered. "See, +there is some oil on the table."</p> + +<p>McAlpin struck a match and soon the room was flooded with a new +brightness that reached even to the far corners and seemed to set free +the real loneliness that held these two together.</p> + +<p>"I—I managed to keep this dry," McAlpin spoke huskily. "I always have +a bite with me when I take to the woods. Who can ever tell what may +happen!"</p> + +<p>He pushed a coarse sandwich toward Priscilla and began eating one +himself.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm not hungry, Jerry-Jo, and I want to start back home at once."</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo leered at her over his bread and meat.</p> + +<p>"What's your hurry? I want to get warm and dry before I set out again. +This is an all-nighter of a storm, if I know anything about it."</p> + +<p>"Get dry, of course, Jerry-Jo. It won't take long with this heat; then we +must start, storm or no storm."</p> + +<p>The old discomfort and unrest returned, and she fixed her eyes on +Jerry-Jo.</p> + +<p>"There's no great hurry," said he, munching away. "It's warm here and +cozy. What's got you, Priscilla? You was mighty keen to come, and you +ain't finished your errand yet. What's ailing you? No one could help the +storm, and we'd be swamped in the bay if we was there now."</p> + +<p>Priscilla got up and walked slowly toward the door, but without any +apparent reason Jerry-Jo arose also, and, still chewing his bread and +meat, backed away from the table, keeping himself between the girl and +whatever her object was. Noticing this, a real terror seized upon +Priscilla and she darted in the opposite direction, reached the hearth, +and was bending toward a heavy poker which lay there, before she herself +could have explained her motive. Jerry-Jo was alert. Tossing his food +upon the table as he strode forward, he gripped her wrist.</p> + +<p>"None of that!" he muttered. "What ails you, Priscilla?" They faced each +other at close range.</p> + +<p>"I—I am afraid of you!"</p> + +<p>At this McAlpin threw back his head and roared with laughter, releasing +her at the same time. With freedom Priscilla gained a bit of courage and +a keen sense of the necessity of calmness. She did not move away from +Jerry-Jo, but fixing him with her wide eyes she asked:</p> + +<p>"Are—are the—family here—here in Kenmore?" Suspicion and anger shook +the voice. The slow, tense words brought things down to fact.</p> + +<p>"No! God knows where they are! I don't know or care."</p> + +<p>Brought face to face with great danger, mental or physical, the majority +of people rise to the call. Priscilla knew now that she was in grave +peril—peril of a deeper kind than even her tormentor could realize. +Every nerve and emotion came to her defence. She would hold this creature +at bay as hunters hold the wild things of the woods when gun or club +fail. Then, after that, she would have to deal with what must inevitably +confront her at home. She seemed to be standing alone amid cruel and +unfamiliar foes, but she was calm!</p> + +<p>"You lied, then? What for?"</p> + +<p>"What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"You believe, by shutting me away from everything, every one, you can win +what otherwise you could not get?" It all seemed cruelly plain, now. She +felt she had always known it.</p> + +<p>"Something like that, yes. You'll come to me fast enough, after to-night. +Once you come I'll—I'll do the fair and square thing by you, Priscilla."</p> + +<p>The half-pleading caught the girl's thought.</p> + +<p>"You mean, by this device you will make me marry you? You'll blacken +my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous +and—marry me?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/gs03.jpg"><img src="images/gs03.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h3><a name="gs03" id="gs03"></a>[Illustration:"'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you? +You'll blacken my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be +generous and—marry me?'"]</h3> + + +<p>Jerry-Jo dropped his bold, dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"I never cared for you, Jerry-Jo. I hate you, now!"</p> + +<p>At this McAlpin raised his head and a fierce red coloured his face.</p> + +<p>"You'll get over that!" he muttered. "Any port in a storm, you know. +You better not drive me now! I ain't—safe, and I've got you tight +for—to-night!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly the pure flame of spirituality flashed into the soul of +Priscilla Glenn. Alone, undefended, facing a hideous possibility, beyond +which lay a black certainty of desolation, she rose supreme to protect +something that her rudely aroused womanhood must defend, even by death!</p> + +<p>"You—beast!" she cried, and all her shrinking fear fell from her. "Go +back! Sit down! I have something to say to you—before——" She did not +finish, but the pause made Jerry-Jo understand that she recognized her +position.</p> + +<p>"I'll stand here, by God!" he almost shouted, and came close.</p> + +<p>The proximity of the rough, coarse body was the one thing the girl felt +she could not bear. She smelled the odour of his wet clothing, felt his +breath, and she shrank back a step.</p> + +<p>"This—this body, Jerry-Jo McAlpin," she whispered, "is all you can +touch. That, I will kill to-morrow—the next day—it does not matter. But +the soul of me shall haunt you while you live. Night and day it shall +torment and clutch you until it brings your sinful spirit to—to God!"</p> + +<p>"You—you devil!" cried McAlpin, all the superstitious fear of his mixed +blood chilling him. "You——" And then as if daring the fate she had it +in her power to evoke, he rushed toward her and clasped her close in his +strong arms. His face was bent over hers, his lips parted from his cruel +teeth, but he did not force them upon her.</p> + +<p>So here she was—she, Priscilla Glenn, in the jaws of death, she who +would have laughed, danced, and sang her way straight into happiness! +Here she was, with what on ahead—if she lived?</p> + +<p>She waited, she struggled, then she relaxed in the iron hold, and for a +moment, only a moment, lost the sense of reality. Presently words that +McAlpin was saying came to her in the black stillness of her +consciousness.</p> + +<p>"I had—to have you! Now that I've shown you my power, I can wait until +you come whining to me. I ain't going to hurt you! I want you as you are +when you come a-begging of me. I only wanted to prove to you that—I've +got you!"</p> + +<p>Again Priscilla was aware of the red warmth of the fire, the sickening +smell of drying wool, the loosening of the bands of McAlpin's arms.</p> + +<p>"You—you who boast that when you hunt, out of season, you shoot +one shot in the air in order to give a poor wild thing a chance of +escape—you bring me here with a lie; close every hope to me, +and—call that—victory! You—you—fiend! What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>She was standing free at last! She was so weak that she staggered to a +chair, fearing that McAlpin, seeing her need, might again lay hands upon +her.</p> + +<p>"I mean—that I've fired my shot!" Her words had caught his fancy. "You +have your chance to—to get away! But where? Where?"</p> + +<p>The dark face leered.</p> + +<p>"See! I'm going to leave you. Go out into the night. You can try for +your—your life, but in the end you'll come to me. I don't care what they +of Kenmore will say, I'll know you are—what you are, and sympathy will +be with me, gal, when I take you. And you'll know, once you come to me, +proper and asking, I'll do—I'll do the best any man could do—for—I +love you!"</p> + +<p>This was flung out desperately, defiantly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I love you as—Jerry-Jo McAlpin knows how to love. It's his way. +Remember that!"</p> + +<p>Not a word rose to Priscilla's lips. She saw McAlpin turn and stride to +the door; she heard him turn the key and—she was alone! But a strange +thing happened just at that moment, a thing that did more to unnerve the +girl than anything that had gone before. As the heavy oak door slammed +after the retreating figure, the jar caused the tall clock, back among +the shadows of the far side of the room, to strike! One, two, three! +Then followed a whirring that faded into deathly silence. It was like the +voice of one, believed to be dead, speaking!</p> + +<p>Frightened, but thoroughly roused to her only hope, Priscilla staggered +to the door, clutched the key in cold, trembling fingers, and turned it +in the lock. Then, sinking upon her knees, she crept back to the fire, +keeping close to the wall. If an eye were pressed to a knothole in the +shutter it could not follow her.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>Priscilla kept the fire alive. She laid the sticks and logs on +cautiously; she turned wide eyes now and again on the tall clock whose +white face gleamed pallidly among the shadows like a dead thing that had +used its last breath to speak a message. If the clock struck again +Priscilla felt that she might go mad.</p> + +<p>It was after midnight when Nature laid a commanding and relentless touch +upon the girl, and, crouching by the hearth, her head in her arms folded +upon a chair, she slept.</p> + +<p>Outside the storm sobbed itself into silence; the rain dripped +complainingly from the roof of the porch and then ceased. At five o'clock +the new day, rosy and full of cheer, made itself felt in the dim room +where Priscilla, breathing evenly and softly, still slept. No gleam of +brightness made its way through the heavy shutters or curtains, but a +consciousness of day at last roused the sleeper. At first the experience +through which she had passed made no demand upon her. She got painfully +upon her feet and looked about. The fire was but embers, the air was hot +and stifling, and then, with the thought of opening a door or window, the +grim spectre of the black hours lay warning touch upon her. She shrank +back and began again to—wait! Of course McAlpin would return—and what +lay before her when he did? Her strength was spent, lack of food——And +here her eyes fell on the broken fragments of stale bread and meat that +Jerry-Jo had tossed aside.</p> + +<p>She took the morsels and devoured them eagerly; the nerves of the stomach +were calling for nutrition, and even the coarse crumbs gave relief.</p> + +<p>The moments passed slowly, but presently, with the knowledge that day lay +beyond her prison, she gained a new, a more desperate courage. If she +must die, she would die in the open, where she at least might test her +pitiful strength against Jerry-Jo's did he pursue her. The determination +to act gave relief. The dark, damp room she could no longer bear; the +lamp had hours before ceased to burn; the smell of stale oil smoke was +sickening. No matter what happened she felt she must make a break for +freedom. She knew full well that should Jerry-Jo enter now she could not +combat him.</p> + +<p>Then, for the first time, she wondered why no one had come to seek her +through the long, black hours of the night. The men of Kenmore never +permitted a wanderer to remain unsought; there was danger. Why, even her +father could not be so—so hard as to sleep undisturbed while she was +unhoused! And her mother? Oh! surely her mother would have roused the +people! And Anton Farwell? Why, he would have started at once, as he +had for the McAdam boys. And with that conclusion came a new hope:</p> + +<p>"If they are searching it will be on the water!"</p> + +<p>Of course. Cheered by this thought, Priscilla made her way silently +toward the door. With trembling fingers she turned the key and pushed +gently outward. Through the crack the sun poured, and oh, the fresh +sweetness of the morning air! Again she pushed, once again, and then with +a rush she dashed through and was a hundred feet down the path when a +loud laugh stayed her like a shot from a gun.</p> + +<p>She turned and braced herself against a tree for support. Jerry-Jo, +pressed close to the house and not a foot from the door through which she +had come, again shrieked with laughter. Presently he conquered himself, +and, without moving, said:</p> + +<p>"You're free! The canoe's ready for you, too. Go home—if you want—go +home and get what's coming to you! I've been busy. There's a boat +stopping at the wharf to-night. I'm leaving for the States. I've told +them, as will pass it on, that you and me are going together. I'll stand +by it, too, God hears me!"</p> + +<p>"My—my father will kill you when he knows of this night!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla flung the words back savagely. She knew now that she was +free—free for what? Again Jerry-Jo's laugh taunted her, and as she +turned to the path her father faded from her hope. Only Anton Farwell +seemed to loom high. Just and resourceful, he would help her!</p> + +<p>The soggy, mossy path made heavy travelling for weary, nervous feet, but +at the foot of the hill Priscilla saw the little canoe bobbing at the +side of the dock. Once out upon the sunlit water the soul-horror +disappeared and the task before her appeared easy. Now that the real +danger was past, her physical demands seemed simple and well within her +control. If her father turned her away—and as she drew near to Lonely +Farm she felt that he probably would—she would go to Farwell, and from +him, with his assistance, go to the States. The time had come—that was +all—the time had come! She was as ready as she ever would be. She had +herself well in hand before she stepped from the canoe at the foot of her +father's garden.</p> + +<p>The only signs of anxiety in evidence about the house were Nathaniel's +presence in the kitchen at eleven in the morning, and Theodora's red and +swollen eyes as she bent over the dishwashing of a belated breakfast.</p> + +<p>"Mother! Father!"</p> + +<p>They turned and gazed at the pale, dishevelled girl in the doorway. +Neither spoke and Priscilla asked:</p> + +<p>"May I come in?"</p> + +<p>Had she wept, or flung herself upon their mercy, Nathaniel could have +understood, but her very calmness and indifference angered him, coming as +it did upon his real anxiety. He had not heard the village gossip that +Long Jean had already started. He had been out alone most of the night on +the water, and the relief of seeing his girl alive and unharmed turned +his earlier emotions to bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, come in," he said sternly. "Where have you been?"</p> + +<p>Had Priscilla been given more time, had she been less physically spent, +she would have protected herself from her father's thought; as it was she +could only summon enough strength to parry his questions with truthful +answers, and until it was too late she did not realize how they damned +her.</p> + +<p>"Up at—at—Far Hill Place."</p> + +<p>"All night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"With——"</p> + +<p>"With—with Jerry-Jo McAlpin."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" This came like a snake's warning.</p> + +<p>"The—the storm was—oh! Father——"</p> + +<p>"The storm!" roared Nathaniel; "the storm! Are you sugar or salt? Have +you so little morality that you choose to stay overnight with a man in a +lonely house instead of coming wet but clean-charactered to your safe +home?"</p> + +<p>And then Priscilla understood! She had come into the room and was sitting +near the door she had closed behind her. She, on the sudden, seemed to +grow old and strong; the ancient distrust and dislike of her father +overcame her; she looked at her mother, bent and sobbing over the sink, +and only for <i>her</i> sake did she continue the useless conversation.</p> + +<p>"You—you judge me unheard!" she went on, addressing Nathaniel with an +anger, glowing in her eyes, that equalled his own.</p> + +<p>"Have you not just incriminated yourself—you!"</p> + +<p>"Stop! Do you think that is all? Do you think I would have stayed +there—if—if——" Here the memory of what she had endured choked her.</p> + +<p>"A woman who puts herself in a man's power as you have can expect no +mercy." Nathaniel stormed.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because it is God's law. All decent women know it. That is what I've +feared for you always, but I'll still stand by you if you show reason. +I'll do it for your mother's sake and my good name. He shall marry you, +by God! Say the word and I'll bring him here."</p> + +<p>Priscilla's upper lip twitched. This was a trick her nerves had of +warning her, but she heeded not.</p> + +<p>"You—you would <i>force</i> me to marry Jerry-Jo even against his will? +You would make that little hell for me without even knowing what has +happened? You'd fling me in it to—to save your name?"</p> + +<p>"You've made your own hell! No matter what has happened, there is only +one way out for you. If you refuse that——" And here Nathaniel flung his +big arms wide, as if pushing his child out—out!</p> + +<p>With white face but blazing eyes Priscilla got up and went over to her +mother. She drew the bowed and quivering form toward her and looked +straight into the tear-flooded eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mother, tell me, do you believe me—dishonoured?"</p> + +<p>The contact of the dear, strong young body gave Theodora power to say:</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear, my dear, I cannot, I will not believe evil of you. But you +must do what your father thinks best; it is the only way. You have been +so heedless, my child, my poor child."</p> + +<p>"You—side with her?" thundered Nathaniel, feeling himself defied. "Then +heed me! If she refuses, out you go with her! No longer will I live with +my family divided against me. The world with her, or the home with me!"</p> + +<p>Then suddenly and quite clearly Priscilla saw the only way open to her, +the only way that led to even the poor peace she yearned to leave to the +sad, little, clinging, broken creature looking piteously up at her.</p> + +<p>"My child, my child, your father knows best."</p> + +<p>"There! there mother. Now listen!"</p> + +<p>Still holding Theodora, she looked over the gray head at her father's +cruel face.</p> + +<p>"I have only to tell you," she said slowly and with deadly hardness, "you +will not have to force Jerry-Jo McAlpin to marry me; he's eager enough to +do it. He leaves to-night for the States; he has arranged for me to go +with him." She paused, then went on, speaking now to her mother:</p> + +<p>"As God hears me, I am not dishonoured, little mother. I will never bring +dishonour upon you. I could have explained to you—you would have +understood, but father—never! I am going to the States. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"My child! oh! my girl!"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, dear mother."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Priscilla! Do not leave us so!"</p> + +<p>"This is the only way."</p> + +<p>"But, you—you are not yet wedded."</p> + +<p>Priscilla smiled.</p> + +<p>"You must leave that to Jerry-Jo and me. And now a kiss—and the dear +cheek against mine. So!"</p> + +<p>"But you will come back——" Theodora sank gently to the floor. She had +fainted quite away!</p> + +<p>Priscilla bent with her, she lifted the white head to her knee, and again +addressed her father.</p> + +<p>"You are satisfied?" she asked. The shield was down between them. Man and +woman, they stared, understandingly, in each other's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Leave her to me!" commanded Nathaniel, and strode toward the prostrate +form.</p> + +<p>"You've lied first and last. Neither McAlpin nor any other honest man +will have you! Go!"</p> + +<p>"I will go and—my hate I leave with you!"</p> + +<p>And when Theodora opened her eyes she was lying on the rough couch in the +sunny kitchen, and Nathaniel was bathing her face with cool water.</p> + +<p>"The child?" faltered the mother, looking pleadingly around. And then +Nathaniel showed mercy, the only mercy in his power.</p> + +<p>"She's gone to McAlpin. They leave for the States to-night. It's you and +I alone now to the end of the way."</p> + +<p>"Husband, husband! We've been hard on her; we've driven her to——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, you! foolish one. Would you defy God? Each one of us walks the +path our feet are set upon. 'Twas fore-ordained and her being ours makes +no difference. Every light woman was—some one's, God knows—and with Him +there be no respecter of persons."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but if you had only been kinder. It seems as if we haven't gone +beside her on her path. Couldn't we have drawn her from it—if we had +expected different of her? Oh! I shall miss her sore. The loneliness, the +loneliness with her out of the days and the long nights."</p> + +<p>Theodora was weeping again desolately.</p> + +<p>"Be grateful, woman, that worse has not come to us."</p> + +<p>Now that the deathlike faint was over, Nathaniel's softening was passing.</p> + +<p>"And she went from our door hungry, the poor dear! We wouldn't have +treated a beggar so."</p> + +<p>"Had she come as a suppliant, all would have been different."</p> + +<p>Then Theodora sat up, and a kind of frenzy drove her to speak.</p> + +<p>"She had something to tell! You did not let her say her say. <i>What</i> kept +her away all night? Jerry-Jo McAlpin has the devil blood in him when he's +up to—to pranks. Suppose——" A sort of horror shook the thin, livid +face. Nathaniel, in spite of himself, had a bad moment; then his hard +common sense steadied him.</p> + +<p>"Would she go to him, if what you fear was true?"</p> + +<p>"Has she gone to him?"</p> + +<p>"Where else then—and all Kenmore not know? Wait till to-morrow before +you leap to the doing of that which you may regret. Calm yourself and +wait until to-morrow."</p> + +<p>And Theodora waited—many, many morrows.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>"And you see, Master Farwell, I cannot go back to my father's house."</p> + +<p>It was after nine of the evening of the day Priscilla Glenn had left +home. She had reached Farwell's shack without being seen. By keeping to +the woods and watching her opportunity, she had gained the rear of the +schoolhouse, entered while Farwell was absent, and breathed freely only +after securing the door.</p> + +<p>The master had returned an hour later and, the gossip of the Green +ringing in his ears, confronted the white, silent girl with no questions, +but merely a glad smile of relief. He had insisted upon her taking food, +drink, and rest before explaining anything, and Priscilla had gratefully +obeyed.</p> + +<p>"I'll gather all the news that is floating about," Farwell had comforted +her. "Sleep, Priscilla. You are quite safe." Then he went out again.</p> + +<p>So she had eaten ravenously and slept far into the early evening while +Anton Farwell went about listening to all who talked. It was a great day +for Kenmore!</p> + +<p>"She and him were together all the night," panted Long Jean, about noon, +in the kitchen of the White Fish.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" called Mary McAdam from the closet. Jean repeated her +choice morsel, and Mary Terhune, preparing the midday meal, thrilled.</p> + +<p>"I was at her borning," Jean remarked, "and I minded then and spoke it +open, that she was made of the odds and ends of them who went before her. +I've a notion that the good and evil that might have thinned out over all +the Glenn girls must work out thick in Priscilla."</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking," Mary Terhune broke in, "that the mingling with such as +visits at the Lodge has upset the young miss. Her airs and graces! Lord +of heaven! how she has flouted the rest of the young uns! Aye, but they +are mouthing about her this day! 'Me and her,' said Jerry-Jo to me this +early morning, 'me and her got caught up in the woods, and, understanding +one another, we chose the dry to the wet, and brought things to a point. +Her and me will make tracks for the States. It's all evened up.' And I do +say," Mary went on, "that all considering, Jerry-Jo is doing the handsome +thing. I ain't picking flaws in her—maybe she's as clean as the +cleanest, but there's them who wouldn't believe it, as you both very well +know."</p> + +<p>This last was to include Mrs. McAdam, who had issued from the closet with +an ugly look on her thin, dark face.</p> + +<p>"You old harpies!" she cried, striding to the middle of the big room and +getting into position for an oratorical outburst. "You two blighted old +midwives as ought, heaven knows, to have mercy on women; you who see the +tortures of women! You would take a girl's name from her on the word of +that half-breed, who would sooner lie than steal—and both are easy to +the whelp. That girl is the straightest girl that ever walked, and no +evil has come to her from my house. A word more like that, Mary Terhune, +and you'll never share my home again, and as for you, Jean, you who +helped the lass into life, what kind of a snake-heart have you?"</p> + +<p>Mary McAdam had both women trembling before her.</p> + +<p>"I'll go up to Lonely Farm myself," screamed she, "and if Glenn and his +poor little slave-wife are doing the low trick by their girl, as God +hears me, I'll take her for my own, and turn you both back to the trade +you dishonour!"</p> + +<p>Anton Farwell, passing near the window, heard this and went his way.</p> + +<p>Later old Jerry McAlpin came to him on the wharf where the men were +gathered to meet the incoming steamer.</p> + +<p>"Lordy! Master Farwell," quavered Jerry; "while I was out on the bay this +early morning, my lad, what all the town is humming about, goes to my +home and takes everything—everything of any vally and leaves this——"</p> + +<p>McAlpin passed a dirty piece of paper to Farwell.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I'm going to get out on the steamer. Going to the States, and had to +have the stuff to get away with. <i>I—ain't—alone!</i> I'm going down the +Channel to board the steamer where it stops for gasoline. <i>Don't</i> +follow me for God's sake. I'll pay you back and more."</p></div> + +<p>Farwell read the words twice, then said:</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I—stop him, Master Farwell?"</p> + +<p>"Can you spare what he has taken?"</p> + +<p>"'Tain't that, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then let him go! Let him have his fling."</p> + +<p>"They do say—Long Jean, she do say—it's Glenn's girl. My lad's been +crazy for her. I'm afraid of Glenn."</p> + +<p>"Let things alone, McAlpin. This is your time to lie low and hold your +tongue."</p> + +<p>Farwell tore the paper in shreds and cast them to the wind.</p> + +<p>The steamer came in at eight. At nine-thirty it left the wharf, and, a +mile down the Channel, stopped at the little safety station to take on +oil and gasoline. Tom Bluff, a half-breed, had the place in charge, and +later that evening he put the finishing touch to the day's gossip.</p> + +<p>"'Twas Jerry-Jo, as you live, who jumped aboard, taking the last can I +was hauling up with him. So in a hurry was he that he nigh pushed some +one down who was in front of him.</p> + +<p>"'Where going?' calls I. 'To the States,' he says back, and picks up the +young person he nigh knocked down."</p> + +<p>Long Jean, to whom Tom was confiding this, drew near.</p> + +<p>"Who was the young person?" whispered she, with the fear of Mary McAdam +still upon her.</p> + +<p>"Her face? I did not see her face."</p> + +<p>"'Twas Glenn's girl," panted Long Jean; "Priscilla!"</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" grunted Tom as his ancestors had often grunted in the past. "Ugh!"</p> + +<p>That was all for the day, and behind closed doors and windows Kenmore +slept. The storm of the previous night had been followed by a cold wave, +and upon Farwell's hearth a fire crackled cheerily.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"And so, you see, I cannot go back to my father's house."</p> + +<p>Farwell bent his head over his folded arms.</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. McAdam will take you in, Priscilla. After things calm down and +the truth is accepted, your people will forgive and forget. You poor +child!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla closed her lips sharply. Her eyes were very luminous, very +tender, as they rested upon Farwell, but her heart knew no pity for her +father.</p> + +<p>"How old one grows, Master Farwell, in—a night," she said with a quiver +in her voice. "I went happily away with Jerry-Jo, quite, quite a girl, +only yesterday. I had the feeling of a child trying to make believe I was +a woman. I wanted to show my father he could no longer control me as he +always had before. I—I wanted to have my way, and then my way brought me +to—those black hours of horror when something in me died forever and +something new was born. And how strange, Master Farwell, that when I +could think at all clear—you stood out as my only friend. I seemed to +know how it would be with my father and my poor mother. My father has +always expected evil of me, and something in me seemed ever to work +against the good of me, to give him cause for believing me wrong. But +you saw the good, my friend, and to you I come—a woman, now. I do not +know the language of what I feel here"—she pressed her hands to her +heart—"but I feel sure you will understand. I cannot stay in Kenmore! +I do not want to. Always I have wanted to have a bigger place, a larger +opportunity, and even if Kenmore would take me, I will not have Kenmore! +Somehow I feel as if I had never belonged here, really. You do not belong +here. Oh, Master Farwell, can you not come, too?"</p> + +<p>As she spoke, the old, weary look passed for an instant from her eyes; +she was a child, daring, yet fearful! Ready to go forward into the dark, +but pleading for a trusted hand to hold. And Farwell, who, could she have +known, was clinging more to her than she to him, almost groaned the one +word:</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Why, oh, why, Mr. Farwell? Like father and daughter we could make our +way. I think I have never known what a father might be, but you would +show me now in my great need."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" Farwell's eyes held hers commandingly, entreatingly. "You must +hear what I have to say. Why do you think I have stayed in Kenmore? Why +I <i>must</i> stay? Have you thought?"</p> + +<p>"No." And for the first time in her life Priscilla wondered. Before, the +man had been but part of her life; now she wondered about him, with the +woman-mind that had come so suddenly and tragically to her.</p> + +<p>"No, Master Farwell, why?"</p> + +<p>"Because—well, because Kenmore is my grave—must always be my grave. I'm +dead. Good people, just people said I was dead. I am dead. Alive, I would +be a menace, a curse. Dead, I am safe. I've paid my debt, and you, you, +the people of my grave, since you do not know, have given me a chance, +and I've been a friend among friends! Why, I've even come to a +consciousness that—perhaps it is best for me to be dead, for back there, +back among the living, the thing I once was might assert itself again."</p> + +<p>The bitterness, the pitiful truthfulness, of Farwell's voice and words +sank deep into Priscilla's heart. Out of them she instantly accepted one +great, vital fact: he was in Kenmore as a refugee; he had been—had +done—wrong! With the acceptance of this, a strange thing happened. +Curiosity, even interest, departed. For no reason that she could have +classified, Priscilla Glenn fiercely desired to—keep Farwell! If she +knew what he seemed bent upon telling, he might take away her faith—her +only support. She would keep and hold to what she believed him, what he +had been since he came to the In-Place. It was childish, blind perhaps, +but her words were those of a determined woman.</p> + +<p>"Master Farwell, I will not listen to you. If you are dead, and are +safe, dead, I will not look into the grave. All my life you have been +good to me, been my only friend; you shall not take yourself from me! And +I—please let me do this one little thing for you—let me prove that I +can love and honour you without—explanation!"</p> + +<p>Farwell's face twitched. He struggled to speak, and finally said +unsteadily:</p> + +<p>"I have been—good, as you say, because I had to be. At any moment +I might have been what I once was. Why, girl, without knowing it, +Kenmore—all of you—had it in your power to fling me to the dogs had +you known, so you see——"</p> + +<p>But Priscilla shook her head.</p> + +<p>"You did not have to risk your life as you did for the McAdam boys. +Perhaps you do not know how you have—grown in your grave, Master +Farwell. Trust and liking come hard to us in Kenmore, yet not one of us +doubts you. No, no, lie quiet. I do not want to see you as you remember +yourself; you are better as you are. I will not hear; I will not have it +in my thought when I am far away."</p> + +<p>The hardness passed from Farwell's face. Something like relief replaced +it, and he said slowly:</p> + +<p>"My God! what a woman you will make if they do not harry you to death."</p> + +<p>"They will not!" The white, tired face seemed illumined from within. +"Last night made me so sure—of myself. It showed me how weak I was, +and how strong. Do you know"—and here a flush, not of ignorance, +but of strange understanding, struck across Priscilla's face like a +flame—"women like my mother, all the women here in Kenmore, do not +understand? They just let people take from them what no one has a right +to take, what only they should give! It's when this something is taken +that they become like my poor mother—afraid and crushed. If I live and +die alone and lonely, I shall keep what is my own until I—I give it +gladly and because I trust. I am not afraid! But if I had married +Jerry-Jo because of—of—what he and my father thought, then I would have +been lost, like my mother, don't you see? I—I can—live alone, but I +will not be lost."</p> + +<p>"But, great heavens! you are a woman!"</p> + +<p>"Is it so sad a thing to be a—woman? Why?"</p> + +<p>To this Farwell made no reply. Shading his gloomy eyes with his thin +hand, he turned from the courageous, uplifted face and sighed. Finally he +spoke as if the fight had all gone from him.</p> + +<p>"Stay here. The thing you want isn't worth the struggle. There is no use +arguing, but I urge you to stay. The In-Place is safer for you. What is +it that you must have?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla laughed—a wild, dreary little sound it was, but it dashed hope +from Farwell's mind.</p> + +<p>"I want my chance, a woman's chance, and I cannot have it here. I'm not +going to hide under Mrs. McAdam's wing, or even yours, Master Farwell. +I've left all the comfort with my poor mother that I can. Never let her +know the truth, now I am going—going to start on My Road! I do not care +where it leads, it is mine, and I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>In her ignorance and defiance she was splendid and stirred the dead +embers of Farwell's imagination to something like life. If she were +bent upon her course, if his hand could not rest upon the tiller of her +untested craft when she put out to sea, what could he do for her? To whom +turn?</p> + +<p>"Is there not one, Master Farwell, just one, out beyond the In-Place, +who, for your sake, would help me at first until I learned the way?"</p> + +<p>The question chimed in with Farwell's thought.</p> + +<p>He leaned across the table separating him from Priscilla Glenn and asked +suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Can you keep a secret?"</p> + +<p>Promptly, emphatically, the answer came. "Yes, I can."</p> + +<p>"Then listen! You must stay here, hide yourself, keep yourself as best +you may, while I go to—make arrangements. I will be no longer than I can +help, but it will take time. The house is well stocked; make yourself +comfortable. There are days when no one knows whether I am here or +elsewhere. Protect yourself until I return. And when"—Farwell paused and +moistened his lips—"when you are over the border, in the whirlpool, the +past, this life, must be forgotten. Raise up a high wall, Priscilla, that +no one can scale. Begin your new life from the hour you reach the States. +The one who will befriend you need know no more than I tell him; others +must take you on faith. At any moment your father, or some one like +Jerry-Jo, might hound you unless you live behind a shield. You +understand?"</p> + +<p>He did not plead for his own safety, and he was, at that moment, humanly +thinking of hers alone.</p> + +<p>"If you get the worst of it, come back; but leave the gate open only +for—yourself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes." And now Priscilla's eyes were shining like stars. "I will do +all that you say; I feel so brave and strong and sure. I want the test, +and I will leave the door to Kenmore ajar until the day when I can push +it wide and enter as I will, taking or bringing my dear friends with me. +I see"—she paused and her eyes grew misty—"I see My Road, stretching on +and on, and it ends—oh, Master Farwell, it ends in my Heart's Desire!" +She was childishly elated and excited.</p> + +<p>Farwell was fascinated.</p> + +<p>"Your Heart's Desire?" he muttered; "and what is that?"</p> + +<p>"Who knows until—she sees it? Hurry! hurry! Master Farwell, I long to +set forth."</p> + +<p>Forgotten was her recent experience of horror; fading already was Kenmore +from her sight. Danger by the way did not daunt her; the man bowed before +her was but a blurred speck upon her vanishing horizon; then suddenly a +sound caught her ear.</p> + +<p>"You—you—are"—she arose and stood beside Farwell, her hand upon his +bent shoulder—"you are crying; and for why?"</p> + +<p>"Loneliness, remorse, and fear for <i>you</i>, poor child."</p> + +<p>And then Priscilla came back to the grim room and the cowering form.</p> + +<p>"I will bring happiness to you," she whispered; "this I swear. In some +way you shall be happy."</p> + +<p>But Farwell shook his head.</p> + +<p>"To bed," he said suddenly; "to bed, girl, and to sleep. I'll take a nap +out here on the couch. Before you awake I'll be on my way. Keep the +shades drawn; it's my way of saying I do not wish to be disturbed. Good +night, and God bless you, Priscilla."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>About two in the morning Farwell set out upon his business for Priscilla. +He left a safe and roaring fire upon the hearth; the window shades he did +not raise, and well he knew that with that signal of desire for privacy +his house would be passed by without apparent notice. The smoke might +curl from the chimney, the dogs might, or might not, materialize, but +with those close-drawn shades the simple courtesy of Kenmore would +protect the master.</p> + +<p>Priscilla was sleeping when Farwell silently closed the door after him, +and, followed by his dogs, provided with food and blankets, he +noiselessly took to the shadowy woods. It was a starry, still hour, +lying between night and morning, and it partook of both. Dark it was, but +with that silvery luminosity which a couple of hours later would be +changed to pink glow. The stars shone, and the one great, pulsing planet +that hung over the sleeping village seemed more gloriously near than +Farwell had ever before noticed it. All nature was waiting for the magic +touch of day; soon action and colour and sound would stir; just then the +hush and breathlessness were a strange setting for the lonely man moving +forward into the deeper shadows followed close by his faithful dogs. This +man who, in the mad passion of his blighted youth, had taken life as if +it were but one of the many things over which he claimed supremacy, with +bowed head and slow steps, was going on an errand of mercy; he was going +to claim, for a helpless human creature, assistance from the only man in +all God's world upon whom he could call with hope of success.</p> + +<p>The program, the next few days, was as clear in Farwell's mind as if he +had already followed it from start to finish. By eight Pine would be on +his tracks; by noon they would be together, the dogs grumbling and +fighting at their heels. Two nights by the fire, smoking in a dull +silence, broken now and then, in sheer desperation, by Farwell himself.</p> + +<p>In Ledyard's plan there had evidently been but one stipulation: the +constant guardianship with explicit reports. Beyond that there seemed to +be no exactions. Farwell had tried to make Pine drink more than was good +for him on various occasions in order to test the metal of the restraint, +but the Indian displayed a wonderful self-control. He knew when and where +to begin and stop in any self-indulgence, but having fulfilled his part +he showed no interest or curiosity in his companion. Once the trading +station was reached, Farwell might buy or seek pleasure as he chose; he +might write or receive letters; might sleep or wake. So long as the +tangible Farwell was where the guide could locate him at a moment's +notice, he was free to think and act to his own satisfaction.</p> + +<p>As he plodded on Farwell contemplated, as he never had before, his +relations with the Indian; in fact, the Indian himself. A superficial +friendliness had sprung up between the two. How deep was it? how much to +be depended upon? If Ledyard could buy the fellow, might not a higher +price secure his allegiance? This, strange to say, was a new thought to +Farwell. Perhaps he had accepted the situation too doggedly; it was his +way to cease struggling when the tide turned against him. It was +weakness, it was folly, and, after Priscilla went, after the girl opened +the doors again into that old life, how could he endure the loneliness, +the tugging of her hold upon him from the place he once had called his?</p> + +<p>The day came late to the deep woods beyond Kenmore, and Farwell seemed +going toward the night instead of facing the morning. At five he paused +to feed his dogs and take a bite himself, and, as he sat upon a fallen +tree, the mystic stirrings of life thrilled him as they often had before. +It was more a sense of rustle and awakening than actual sound. Hidden +under the silence of the forest lay the quivering promises, as the rosy +light lay just on the border of the woodland. Both were pressing warm and +comfortingly close to the lonely man with his patient dogs at his feet. +Farwell was a better man, a finer man, than he knew, but only +subconsciously did this support him.</p> + +<p>It was three of the afternoon before he heard the quick, measured steps +on the trail behind him. He did not turn his head, but he called back a +genial "Hello!" which was answered by a grunt not devoid of friendliness.</p> + +<p>The evening meal was eaten together, and the two arranged their blankets +near the fire for the night's rest. Farwell's two dogs and Pine's one +faithful henchman lay down in peace a short distance away. It was as it +had been for a time back, except that the Indian had become, suddenly, +either an obstacle to be overcome or a friend to assist. Not realizing +his new importance, the guide grunted a good night and fell into that +sleep of his that never seemed to capture his senses entirely.</p> + +<p>At the small town, which was reached late the following day, Farwell +engaged two rooms at the ramshackle tavern and informed Pine that he was +to share the luxuries.</p> + +<p>This was unusual. In the past a day at the station sufficed for business +transactions, and night found them in the woods again. Pine was confused +but alert. However, things progressed comfortably enough. The expected +mail was awaiting Farwell, and he greedily bought all the newspapers he +could get. His purchases at the store did not interest the Indian and he +was not even aware that several garments for a woman were included in +Farwell's list. A telegram sent, and another received, did perturb the +fellow a good deal, but when Farwell tore the one he got into shreds, the +simple mind of the guide concluded that the matter was unimportant, and +he forgot it before they reached Kenmore. He could not burden his poor +intellect with unnecessary rubbish, and the whole business was getting on +to what stood for nerves in the Indian's anatomy.</p> + +<p>What really had occurred was this: Farwell had reached across the +desolate stretches that divided him from his one friend and got a +response. He had impressed upon John Boswell that he could not come in +person to Kenmore, but he could meet a certain needy young person and +convey her to safety in the States. And he had asked a question that for +months had never risen to the surface—he had been too crushed to give it +place.</p> + +<p>"Is Joan Moss still alive?"</p> + +<p>Boswell was ready to aid him in any way, would even deny himself the +longing of seeing his old friend face to face, since that seemed +desirable. He would meet the young woman at a place called Little Corners +and would do what he could for her.</p> + +<p>"Joan Moss is still alive."</p> + +<p>A strong light and a new hope came into Farwell's sad eyes. He had a hold +on the future! With the possibility of supplanting Ledyard in Pine's +ideas of loyalty and economics what might not happen?</p> + +<p>And so they started back.</p> + +<p>It was midnight, four days after Farwell had left home, that he entered +his own door again. The return trip had been rushed, much to Pine's +approbation. Priscilla was quietly sewing at the table when Farwell, +having loudly bidden the Indian good night, came into the living-room.</p> + +<p>The girl's alarmed glance turned to one of relieved welcome when she saw +Farwell. She had some food ready for him—every night she had been +prepared—and he ate it ravenously. She noted how white and weary he +looked, but the triumphant expression in his sad eyes did not escape her, +either.</p> + +<p>"You have good news?" she asked as soon as Farwell had rested a bit by +his fireside.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I have done famously. Only two knocks at the door, and I was well +hidden. Once it was Mrs. McAdam and once old Jerry. They did not try to +enter."</p> + +<p>"They would not. And there was food and fuel enough?"</p> + +<p>"Food—yes; I went out three times for wood, and I took one wild, mad +walk. I ran, while all the world slept, to Lonely Farm. I looked in at my +father's window; he was dozing by the fire, and—my mother——"</p> + +<p>"Well, Priscilla?"</p> + +<p>"My mother—was crying! I shall always remember her—crying. I did not +know there were so many tears in the world!"</p> + +<p>"You—you still insist upon going away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is no other way for me. Already I seem a stranger, a +passerby. Not even for my mother can I stay; it could work no good for +her or me. Perhaps, by and by——" Priscilla paused. Now that she was +about to turn her back on all that was familiar to her, she became +serious and intense, but she knew no shadow of wavering.</p> + +<p>Then Farwell told her the arrangements he had made.</p> + +<p>"I have a hundred dollars for you, Priscilla. I wish it were more. My +friend Boswell will meet you at Little Corners. This is Friday; he will +be there on Sunday and will wait for you at the inn; there is only one. +Ask for it and go straight to it. From here to Little Corners is the +hardest part. I will go as far as I dare with you; the rest you must make +alone. Halfway, there is a deserted shanty near the old factory; there +you can make yourself comfortable for the night. Are you afraid?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla was white and intent, but she answered:</p> + +<p>"No, I shall not be afraid."</p> + +<p>"You ought to cover the distance in a couple of days and a night; the +walking is not hard, and the woods are fairly well cleared. Once you +reach Boswell you are safe. He will not question you, but you can trust +him. He's a strange man—younger than I; he stands, has always stood, for +all that is noble and good in my life. I have told him that you are some +one in whom I am interested."</p> + +<p>The feeling of adventure closed in and clutched the girl. Now that the +hour had actually come, the hour up to which all her preparations tended, +she quivered with excitement tinged with sadness.</p> + +<p>"This way of leaving Kenmore is safer," Farwell was saying. "If any one +were to see you and know you, your father would find you out and bring +you back. No one will know you at Little Corners. That's a place which +most honest people let alone. You'll like Boswell—every one does—after +the first. He'll put you in the way of helping yourself, and your people +may still hold their belief about you and Jerry-Jo, since it makes things +easier for them."</p> + +<p>"Yes; they must believe that until——" But Priscilla did not finish the +sentence.</p> + +<p>The two sat silent for a few minutes while the tired dogs upon the hearth +breathed loud and evenly. Then at last Priscilla asked:</p> + +<p>"When do we start, Master Farwell?"</p> + +<p>"Start? Oh, to be sure. I had forgotten." Farwell roused himself from his +lethargy. "We start at once; in an hour or two at the latest. I will nap +here on the couch; you must rest as best you can. There's a long coat and +a hat in yonder bundle. They must serve you until you meet Boswell. He'll +rig you out in some town before you reach civilization. Here's the money; +take wallet and all. Hide it somewhere, Priscilla." Farwell was on his +feet and active once more.</p> + +<p>"Go in an hour or two?" gasped Priscilla absentmindedly, following +Farwell's words and accepting the money with a long, tender look of +gratitude. "In an hour or two? Why, you've only just come in, Master +Farwell!"</p> + +<p>"What matters? After to-morrow I shall have time to rest and sleep to my +fill."</p> + +<p>"You will—miss me, Master Farwell?" Priscilla's eyes were dim. "I would +like to have some one—miss me!"</p> + +<p>"I shall, indeed, miss you! You can never understand what you have meant +to me, Priscilla. I cannot make you understand; I shall not try; but in +helping you I have perhaps helped myself. I cannot walk out of the +In-Place beside you, as I would like to do—not now. Maybe a long time +hence, some day, I may follow!"</p> + +<p>Farwell's excitement showed in his eyes and voice and wiped out the +weariness of his face.</p> + +<p>"You mean that, Master Farwell? You are not trying to comfort me?"</p> + +<p>"No; I am comforting myself!"</p> + +<p>Then, forgetful of the need for sleep, he went on rapidly:</p> + +<p>"Out where you are going, Priscilla, there is a—a woman I love; she once +loved me. This must seem queer to you who have only known me as—as I now +seem. I will seem different to you when you have wakened up—seen other +kinds of men and women."</p> + +<p>"Is she young—pretty?"</p> + +<p>The senseless words escaped Priscilla's lips because quivering interest +and a strange embarrassment held her thought.</p> + +<p>"I—I do not know—how she is now. She <i>was</i> pretty. Good God! how pretty +she was, and young, and kind, too. It was the kindness that mattered +most. You see, she thinks me dead; it was best so. I—I had to be dead +for a while and then I meant to go to her myself. But—something +happened. I was obliged to stay on here, and she might not have +understood. I'd like——" Farwell paused and looked pleadingly at the +white girl-face across the rude table, where the fragments of food still +lay: "I'd like you to go and see her. Boswell could take you. He's done +everything for her, God bless him! I'd—I'd like to have you tell her +gently, kindly, that I am alive. You might say it so as to spare her +shock; you might, better than any one else!"</p> + +<p>The longing in the man's eyes was almost more than Priscilla could +endure. Crude as she was, wrong and sinful as the man near her may at one +time have been, she knew intuitively that the love for that woman in the +States had been his consuming and uplifting passion. If he had sinned for +her, he had also died for her, and now he pleaded for resurrection in her +life.</p> + +<p>"I will do anything in all the world for you, Master Farwell; anything!"</p> + +<p>And Priscilla stretched her hands out impulsively. Farwell took them in +his cold, thin ones and clung to her grimly.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know she'd welcome me!" he whispered. "Unless she could, I'd +rather stay—dead!"</p> + +<p>Another silence fell between the man and girl while he relived the past +and she sought to enter the future.</p> + +<p>The clock struck the half-hour of one and Farwell sprang up.</p> + +<p>"Get ready!" he said. "No time for napping now. It is—it is Saturday +morning! We must be off! I'll go with you as far as I can. For the +rest——" He stopped suddenly and looked blankly at Priscilla.</p> + +<p>A little after two they started away from the small, darkened house. It +was a cloudy morning; day would be long in coming, and the two made the +most of the darkness. They were well in the deep woods by six o'clock; at +seven they ate some food Farwell had hurriedly prepared, and were on +their way again by eight. They did not talk much. Priscilla found that +she needed all her strength, now that she must soon depend upon herself, +and Farwell had nothing more to say but—good-bye!</p> + +<p>Anton Farwell had got ahead of his spy for once! Not even so +indefatigable an Indian as Pine could be expected to watch a man who had +just returned from a long tramp. But Farwell knew full well that by high +noon his guard would have sensed danger and be uncommonly active, so he +pushed the march to Priscilla's utmost limit.</p> + +<p>At four o'clock they reached the deserted hut near the old factory. A +fire was made upon the hearth and a broken-down settle drawn close.</p> + +<p>"I'd rest until early morning," advised Farwell in a hard, constrained +voice. "Good Lord, Priscilla, it's a cruel place to leave you—alone!"</p> + +<p>"I shall not mind, Master Farwell." All that was brave and unselfish in +the girl rose now to the fore. She recognized that Farwell, even more +than she, needed comfort.</p> + +<p>"I shall never forget you," she said, holding her hands out to him; +"never forget you or cease to—love you!"</p> + +<p>The last words made him wince.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Priscilla."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Master Farwell."</p> + +<p>When the door closed upon the man, for a moment Priscilla stood with +horrified glance following him. The sense of high adventure perished at +his going. Alone in the woods, in the ghostly hut, the night to face, and +the blank future stretching beyond! It was more than she could bear, and +a cry escaped her parted lips. But Farwell did not hear, and the paroxysm +passed.</p> + +<p>Priscilla slept that night, slept well and safely, and the early light of +Sunday morning found her refreshed and full of courage. She never knew +that two hours after leaving her Farwell met Pine and found in him—a +friend!</p> + +<p>They had come face to face on a side trail.</p> + +<p>"Here I am!" said Farwell cheerfully; then he took his place in front of +the guide. That had always been the unspoken understanding.</p> + +<p>"See here, Pine, we've never said much to each other about what—all this +means, but I want to say something now. I won't give you much trouble in +the future. I shall not go often for my mail, or necessaries. In return, +forget <i>this</i> journey. I went to let a—a poor little devil of a creature +out of a trap. That is all. I just couldn't—leave it to suffer—and I +hadn't time to call you up after our long tramp of yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" came from behind.</p> + +<p>"Pine, can you trust me?"</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" But the grunt was affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Smoke on it, Tough?"</p> + +<p>And they smoked while they plodded wearily back into bondage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>Little corners, lying on the borderland of Canada and the States, +stretched like a hand, the thumb and small finger of which belonged to +the Dominion, the three digits, in between, to the sister country. Of +course it was comparatively easy to bring merchandise, and what not, +by way of the thumb and little finger and send the same forth by the +three exits, known to Timothy Goodale as "furrin parts." Timothy was +excessively British, as so many Canadians are, but he was a broad-minded +man in his sympathies, and a friend to all—when it paid. He was a man of +keen perceptions, of conveniently short memory, and had the capacity for +giving a lie all the virtuous appearance of truth and frankness. Goodale +had no family, and, as far as possible, served his guests himself. A +half-breed cooked for him; a half-witted French-Canadian girl did +unimportant tasks about the bedchambers, but the host himself took his +patrons into his own safekeeping and their secrets along with them.</p> + +<p>Little Corners was not a town of savoury reputation. Law-abiding folks +gave it a wide berth; tourists found nothing interesting there, and +newcomers, of a permanent type, were discouraged. For these reasons it +was the place of all places for Mr. John Boswell to enter, by way of the +long, middle finger, and meet Priscilla Glenn, who advanced via the +thumb. No one would know them; no one would remember them an hour after +they departed.</p> + +<p>Timothy was bustling about on a certain Sunday morning, ruminating on the +thanklessness of the task of getting ready for people who might never +appear, when, to his delight, he saw a team of weary horses advancing. He +had time only to put his features in order for business when a man +entered the room.</p> + +<p>No one but Goodale could have taken the shock of the traveller's +personality in just the way he did. The smile froze on his face, his eyes +beamed, and his stiff, red hair seemed bristling with welcome. "Advance +agent of a circus," he thought; "sort of advertising guy."</p> + +<p>The man who had entered was about three feet tall, horribly twisted as to +legs, and humped as to back and chest. The long, thin arms reached below +the bent knees, and large, white hands dangled from them as if attached +by wires. The big head, set low on the shoulders, seemed to have no +connecting link of neck. It was a great, shaggy head with deep-set, +wonderful eyes, sensitive mouth and chin, and a handsome nose.</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir, delighted," said Goodale. "Shall I tell your driver to go to +the stables?"</p> + +<p>"I'm my own driver, but I'd like your man to see to the horses. I'm John +Boswell from New York, though you'll probably forget that an hour after I +leave."</p> + +<p>Goodale nodded. This was quite in his line, and he suddenly became aware +of the exquisite texture and quality of the stranger's clothing; the +fineness of the piping voice. All sorts came to the inn, but this last +comer was a gentleman, for all his defects.</p> + +<p>"I'm expecting a young woman, a distant relative, from farther back in +Canada. I shall await her here. My stay is uncertain. Make me as +comfortable as you can; I like to be comfortable."</p> + +<p>"You—you are alone, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Until the young lady comes, yes. She is to return to the States with me. +It depends upon her how soon we travel back."</p> + +<p>This did away with the show business, but it added romance to the +adventure.</p> + +<p>Goodale made Boswell extremely comfortable, surprisingly so. Two bedrooms +were got in order as if by magic; a little sitting-room emerged from +behind closed doors; an apartment quite detached and cozy, with a +generous fireplace and accommodations for private meals.</p> + +<p>After a good dinner Boswell went for a stroll, telling his host to make +the young lady welcome upon her arrival.</p> + +<p>At half-past four Priscilla Glenn walked into the office of the inn. She +was tired and worn, rather unkempt as to appearance, but she stepped +erect and with some dignity.</p> + +<p>"Is—is Mr. Boswell here?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"He is, and then again he ain't," smiled Timothy, who was always playful +with women when he wasn't brutal. None knew better than he the use and +abuse of chivalry.</p> + +<p>"You are to make yourself at home, Miss; then I'll serve tea in the +sitting parlour; all quite your own and no fear of intrusion. I'm host +and servant to my guests. I never trust them to—to menials."</p> + +<p>"Where's my room?" Priscilla broke in abruptly. She was near the +breaking-point and she longed for privacy and shelter before she +collapsed. Her tone and manner antagonized Goodale. He understood and +recognized only two classes of women, and this girl's attitude did not +fit either class. In silence he showed her to her bedchamber, and once +the door separated him from her his smile departed and he relieved his +feelings by muttering a name not complimentary to Mr. Boswell's relative.</p> + +<p>The sense of safety, warmth, and creature comforts speedily brought about +courage and hope to Priscilla; a childish curiosity consumed her; she was +disappointed that Boswell did not present himself, but his absence gave +her time for rallying her forces. She found her way to the little +sitting-room by six o'clock, and, to her delight, saw that tea things +were on a table by the hearth and a kettle was boiling over the fire.</p> + +<p>"And so—this is Miss Priscilla Glenn?"</p> + +<p>So noiselessly had the man entered the room through the open door, so +kind and gentle his voice, that, though the girl started, she felt no +fear until her eyes fell upon the speaker. Boswell waited. He knew what +must follow. Readjustment always took time. In this case the time might +be longer because of the crudity of the girl.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" The shuddering word escaped the trembling lips and the tightly +clasped hands that had instinctively gone to the face. "Ah!"</p> + +<p>The man by the door sent forth a pitiful appeal for mercy and acceptance +in so sweet and rare a smile that for very shame Priscilla stood up and +smiled back wanly and apologetically.</p> + +<p>Boswell liked the attempt and ready willingness; they showed character.</p> + +<p>"Now that that is over," he said in his strange, fine voice, "we may sit +down and be friends. May we not?"</p> + +<p>"I will make fresh tea for you—please let me!" for Boswell was waving +aside the suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Very well! Weak—just flavoured water. Now, then!"</p> + +<p>The sidling form edged to the deep chair beside the hearth and scrambled +up, using both hands as a child does. Priscilla kept her eyes upon her +task and struggled for composure.</p> + +<p>"I—I suppose Max—I mean Farwell—did not describe me?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"It was mistaken kindness. My friends have a habit of doing that. They +think to spare me; it only makes it harder. Try to forget, as soon as +you can, my ugly shell; I am commonplace beneath."</p> + +<p>The pathos of this almost brought tears to Priscilla Glenn's eyes. Her +warm, sympathetic nature responded generously.</p> + +<p>"I—I am very sorry I gave you pain, sir. Forgive me!"</p> + +<p>"We will not mention it again. If you can think of me as—a man, a friend +who wishes to help you for another friend's sake, you will honour me and +make easier your own position. You see, you are no stranger to me; I have +the advantage of you. Farwell has kept me in touch with you from your +childhood up. You have amused him, helped him to bear many things that +would have been harder for him without you. I thank you for this. I +am Farwell's friend. Why, do you know"—and now the deep eyes glowed +kindly—"he has even told me of that original religion you evolved from +your needs; he pictured the strange god you worshipped. I've laughed over +that many times."</p> + +<p>"Your tea is getting cold, sir."</p> + +<p>Priscilla was gaining control of her emotions, and John Boswell's evident +determination to place her in a comfortable position won her gratitude +and admiration.</p> + +<p>"I like cold tea; the colder and weaker the better. Thank you. Let the +cup stand on the table; I will help myself presently. I sincerely hope +we, you and I, are going to be friends. It would hurt Farwell so if we +were not."</p> + +<p>"How good you are!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Goodness is—my profession." The drollery in the voice was more +touching than amusing. "I call myself the Property Man. I help people +artistically, when I can. It is my one pleasure, and I find it most +exciting. You will learn, now that you have taken your place on the stage +of life, that the Property Man is very important."</p> + +<p>In this light talk, half serious, half playful, he reassured Priscilla +and claimed for himself what his deformity often retarded.</p> + +<p>"Already you seem my friend. Mr. Farwell said you would be."</p> + +<p>Priscilla's eyes did not shrink now. The soul of the man had, in some +subtle fashion, transformed him. She began to succumb to that power of +Boswell's that had held many men and women even against their wills.</p> + +<p>"Farwell was always a dramatic fellow," the weak voice continued. "When +he sent me word, I wanted to go direct to Kenmore; I wanted to see him +after all these years. But he had made his own plans in his own way. +There were—reasons."</p> + +<p>Priscilla looked bravely in the thin, kindly face. She remembered that +Farwell had said that she need tell nothing more than she cared to, but +an overpowering desire was growing upon her to confide everything to this +friend of an hour. His deep, true eyes, fixed upon her, were challenging +every doubt, every reserve.</p> + +<p>"Farwell says you dance like a sprite."</p> + +<p>At this Priscilla started as if from sleep.</p> + +<p>"Ah! a childish bit of play," she said. "I—I have almost forgotten how +to dance."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will never forget. To dance and sing and laugh should be the +heritage of all young things. You must forget to be serious, past the +safety point! That's where danger lies. It does not pay to take our parts +ponderously. I learned that long ago."</p> + +<p>"I shall be—happy after a while." And now, quite simply and frankly, +Priscilla cast away her anchors of caution and timidity and spoke openly:</p> + +<p>"I—I have been so troubled. Things have happened to me that should not +have happened if—if my mother and father could have trusted in me. They +believed—wrong of me when really they should have pitied me. You trust +me?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely."</p> + +<p>"Master Farwell trusted me. As things were, the only comfort I could give +my poor parents was to let them think I left Kenmore with—with a young +man. Something had occurred that—looked wrong. It was only a terrible +experience. No one helped me but Master Farwell. My—my people turned +from me."</p> + +<p>"It was Farwell's way: to help where he had faith," murmured Boswell.</p> + +<p>The deep eyes were so perilously kind that Priscilla had to struggle to +keep back her tears. A sense of security and peace flooded her heart, but +the past strain had left its mark.</p> + +<p>"My father would have been glad to have me marry the—the man. I would +rather have died after what happened! They—my father and mother—must +believe I have gone with him. It will at least make them feel I have not +disgraced them. Now—you can understand!"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"I want to go into training. I want to be a nurse. I am sure I can +succeed."</p> + +<p>So very humble and modest was the ambition that it quite took Boswell by +surprise. Priscilla did not notice the uplifting of the shaggy brows. She +went on eagerly, thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"You see, I have only such education as Master Farwell has given me, but +I have a ready mind, he says. I am sure I could watch and tend the sick. +A lady staying in Kenmore at one time told me I had the—the touch of a +skilled hand. I want—to help the world, somehow, and this seems the only +way open to a girl like me. I am strong; I never tire. Yes; I want to be +a nurse, the best one I can be."</p> + +<p>Boswell understood the deeper truth. This girl, original, artistic, was +foregoing much in accepting this safe, humble course. She expected no +charity, nothing but a helpful interest. It was unusual and delightful.</p> + +<p>"I have a hundred dollars that Master Farwell gave me. It will help, and +I can repay it by and by. I know it will be years before I can do so, but +he understands. While I am studying there will be little expense, the +lady told me. And oh!"—here Priscilla interrupted herself suddenly—"I +have an errand to do for Master Farwell as soon as I get to New York. He +told me you—would help me."</p> + +<p>"An errand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There is a—woman he once—loved; loves still. She thinks he—is +dead. It was best so in the past. There was a reason for letting her +believe so; but now he wants her—to know!"</p> + +<p>Boswell sprang up in his chair as if he were on a strong spring.</p> + +<p>"Wants you to go and tell her—that he still lives?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It will be hard, but I will do it for him."</p> + +<p>Boswell settled back in his seat.</p> + +<p>"I thought he only meant her to know—when he could go himself," he said +quietly.</p> + +<p>"He made me promise."</p> + +<p>Boswell leaned forward and drew the cup from the table, and in one long +draught drank the cold, weak tea. When he spoke again the conversation +was set in a different channel.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what I expected to find you, Miss Glenn," he said with his +rare, sweet smile. "You evidently seemed more a child to Farwell than you +do to me. That was natural. Now that we have become acquainted I hope you +will accept my help and hospitality until your own plans are formed. I +can make you very comfortable in my town home. I am sure I can place you +in the best training school in the city; I have some influence there. But +before you settle to your hard work you will let me play host, as Farwell +would in my place? This would be a great pleasure to me."</p> + +<p>What there was in the words and tone Priscilla could never tell, but +at once the future seemed secure, and the present placed on a sound +foundation. Every disturbing element was eliminated and the whole +situation put upon a perfectly commonplace basis. By a quick transition +the unreality was swept aside.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I will be glad to accept."</p> + +<p>They smiled quite frankly and happily at each other.</p> + +<p>"An odd story occurs to me." Boswell pressed back in his chair and his +face was in shadow. "You must get used to my stories and plays. The +Property Man must have his sport. There was once a garden, very +beautiful, very desirable, but full of traps to the unwary. Quite +unexpectedly, one day, a particularly fine butterfly found herself poised +on the branch of a tree with a soaring ambition in her heart, but a blind +sense of danger, also. It was a wise butterfly, by way of change. While +it hesitated, a beetle crawled along and offered its services as guide. +The pretty, bright thing was sane enough to accept. Do you follow?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla started. She had been caught in the mesh of the story, and now +with a sudden realization of its underlying thought she flushed and +laughed.</p> + +<p>"I still have my childish delight in stories, you see," she said. Then, +"I—I do see what you mean. Again I repeat, I am so glad to accept +your—your kindness."</p> + +<p>"Middle life has its disadvantages." The voice from out the shadows +sounded weary. "It has none of the blindness of youth and none of the +assurance of old age. If I were twenty, you and I could play together in +the Garden; if I were ninety I could tuck you safely away in my nest and +feed you on dainties, and no one could say a word. As it is—well, we'll +do the best we can, and, after you are in your training, you'll be glad +enough to have my nest to fly to for a change of air and an opportunity +to chat with me. The Property Man will come in handy. Hark! the wind is +rising. How it blows!"</p> + +<p>The ashes were flying about on the hearth and the trees outside beat +their branches against the windows.</p> + +<p>"It never roars like that in the In-Place," whispered Priscilla, awed by +the sound and fury that were rapidly gaining power.</p> + +<p>"The In-Place?" Boswell sighed. "What a blessed name! To think of any one +fluttering about in the dangerous Garden when he or she might remain in +the In-Place!"</p> + +<p>There was a tap on the door, and in reply to Boswell's "Come!" Goodale +entered.</p> + +<p>"Shall I serve supper now, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"In here?"</p> + +<p>"No; in the dining-room." Then, "How far is it to the railway station?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-six miles, sir."</p> + +<p>"It seemed like a hundred. Can the team make it to-morrow if the storm +ceases?"</p> + +<p>"They look capable, sir."</p> + +<p>"Then we will start to-morrow for the States."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p>Priscilla Glenn always looked back on the next four weeks of her life as +a transition stage between one incarnation and another. Kenmore, and that +which had gone to the making of her life previous to her meeting with +John Boswell, seemed to have accomplished their purpose and left her +detached and finished, up to a certain point, for the next period of her +existence. In the severing of all the ties of the past, even affection, +gratitude, and memory, for the time being, were held in abeyance. This +was a merciful state, for, had ordinary emotions and sentiments held her, +she would have been unfitted for the difficult task of readjustment which +she gradually achieved, simply because of her dulled mental and spiritual +sensations.</p> + +<p>The noise and flash of the big city bewildered and dazzled the girl from +the In-Place and encrusted her with an unreality that spared her many a +pang of loss, and also fear for the future. Boswell's apartment, high +above the street and overlooking the Hudson River and Palisades, became a +veritable sanctuary from which she dreaded to emerge and to which she +clung in a passion of self-preservation. The gray wall of stone across +the sparkling stream grew to be, in her vivid fancy, the barrier between +the past and future. Against it, unseen, faint, but persistent, beat what +once had been—her grim father, her weak, tearful mother, lonely, kindly +Master Farwell, and all the lesser folk of Kenmore. Pressing close and +straining to hold her, these dim, shadowy memories clustered, but she no +longer appeared a part of them, like them, or in any way connected with +them. On the other hand, below the eyrie dwelling in which she was +temporarily sheltered, lay the whirlpool of sound and motion into which, +sooner or later, she must plunge.</p> + +<p>With keen appreciation and understanding of this phase of her +development, John Boswell kept conversation and life upon the surface, +and rarely permitted a letting-down of thought. Cautiously, and not too +often, he took his guest on tours of inspection and watched her while she +underwent new ordeals or experienced pain from unknown thrills. He had +never been more interested or amused in his life, and, in his enthusiasm, +exaggerated Priscilla's capabilities. He revelled in her frankness and +her confidence; he learned from her more of Farwell than he could have +learned in any other way, and his faithful heart throbbed in pity, pride, +and affection for the lonely master of the In-Place, who, little heeding +his own progress, had triumphed over his old and lesser self at last.</p> + +<p>The home of Boswell was a large and sunny apartment high up in the huge +building. Only one servant, a marvellously silent and efficient Japanese, +ran the economic machinery, awesomely defended Boswell's library when the +master retired to perform his mystic rites, and in all relations was +exemplary. Poor Boswell's rites comprised a devouring appetite for +reading and a rather happy talent for turning off a short story as unique +and human as he was himself.</p> + +<p>After Priscilla Glenn arrived, Toky, as the servant was called, was +tested to the uttermost. Never before had Boswell introduced a woman into +the sphere sacred to Man. Toky disapproved, was utterly disgusted; he +lost his implicit faith in his master's wisdom, but he adopted a manner +at once so magnanimous and charming that Boswell set to work and planned +future gifts of appreciation for his servant.</p> + +<p>No other woman came to the apartment; Boswell shrank from them, not +bitterly or resentfully, but sensitively. Men took him more or less for +granted when he touched their lives; women overdid the determination, on +their parts, to set him at ease. Long since he had turned his poor, +misshapen back upon the very natural and legitimate desire for the happy +mingling of both sexes, but after Priscilla Glenn became his guest he +recognized the need of women friends in a sharp and painful manner. They +could have helped him so much; could have solved so many problems for him +and the girl; but as it was he had to do the best he could alone.</p> + +<p>The hundred dollars, still to be repaid to Farwell, worked wonders in the +week following the arrival of the Beetle and the Butterfly, as Boswell +insisted upon calling himself and Priscilla. Having no power at court, +Boswell cast himself on the mercy of lesser folks and managed, by way of +secret nods and whispers, to gain the coöperation of sympathetic-looking +shop girls in order to array Priscilla in garments that would secure her +and him from impudent stares and offensive leers. The evenings following +these shopping expeditions were devoted to "casting up accounts." +Priscilla was absolutely lacking in worldly wisdom, but she had a sense +of accuracy that drove Boswell to the outer edge of veracity. Never +having bought an article of clothing for herself, Priscilla attacked this +new problem with perfectly blank faith. Prices often surprised and +startled her by their smallness, but the results obtained were gloriously +gratifying.</p> + +<p>"I can better understand the lure of the States now, Mr. Boswell," she +said one evening as the two sat in the library with the wind howling +down Boswell's exaggerations and the fire illuminating the girl's +face. "Kenmore prices were impossible, but one can go wild here for so +little. Just fancy! That whole beautiful suit for two dollars and +eighty-seven——"</p> + +<p>"Eighty-nine!" Boswell severely broke in, shaking his pencil at her as he +sat perched, like a benign gargoyle, by his study table. "I'll not have +Farwell defrauded while he cannot protect his own interests."</p> + +<p>"Two eighty-nine," Priscilla agreed, with a laugh so merry and carefree +that the listener dropped his tired eyes. "And how much does that leave +of the hundred, Mr. Boswell? I tremble when I think of the silk gown so +soft and pretty, the slippers and stockings to match, and the storm coat, +umbrella, heavy shoes, and—and—other things."</p> + +<p>Boswell referred to his notes and long lines of figures.</p> + +<p>"All told, and in round numbers, there are forty-seven dollars and three +cents left."</p> + +<p>"It's marvellous! wonderful!" Priscilla exclaimed. "You are sure, Mr. +Boswell?"</p> + +<p>"Do you doubt me?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I do, you are so kind, so generous, and under ordinary +circumstances it would seem impossible to buy things so cheap. You must +select your shops carefully."</p> + +<p>"One has to on a moderate allowance."</p> + +<p>Then quite suddenly Priscilla Glenn spoke quickly and breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Boswell, I—I must begin my training. Have you made any +arrangements? And, when I go, will they pay me from the start?"</p> + +<p>Boswell grew grave as he thought of the knowledge that would come +concerning dollars and cents later on.</p> + +<p>"I have started operations," he replied; "in a short time you will be +able to begin your studies, and I hear they will pay you the princely sum +of ten dollars a month from the day you are accepted. Canadians are +greatly in demand."</p> + +<p>"Ten dollars!" gasped Priscilla, "Ten dollars a month! when I think what +this hundred has done, and the twelve months in each year, it—it dazzles +me!"</p> + +<p>Boswell gave an uncomfortable laugh. In the light of nearby +disillusionment his practical joke looked mean and ghastly.</p> + +<p>Then, with another abrupt change of thought, Priscilla brought Boswell +again at bay.</p> + +<p>"Before I go into training," she said, "I must go and see Master +Farwell's friend—his old friend, you know. I feel very guilty and +ungrateful, but it has all been so strange and bewildering, I have seemed +dead and done for and then born again, I could not help myself; but I can +now. Please tell me all about her, Mr. Boswell, and how I can find her."</p> + +<p>Boswell dropped the pencil upon the mahogany desk and looked blankly at +Priscilla.</p> + +<p>"Let us sit by the fire," he said presently, "I am cold and—tired. Turn +down the lights."</p> + +<p>They took their positions near the hearth: the dwarf in his low, deep +leather chair with its wide "wings" that hid him so mercifully; Priscilla +in the small rocker that from the first had seemed to meet every curve +and line of her long, young body with restful welcome.</p> + +<p>"And now," Priscilla urged, "please tell me. I feel, to-night, like +myself once more. I am adjusted to the new life, I hope, ready to do my +part."</p> + +<p>When John Boswell cast aside his whimsical phase he was a very simple and +direct man. He, too, was becoming adjusted to Priscilla's presence in his +home and her rightful demands upon him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will tell you," he said slowly, wearily.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are too tired to-night, Mr. Boswell? To-morrow will do."</p> + +<p>"No. I never sleep when the wind howls; it gets into my imagination. I'd +rather talk. The thing I have to tell you—is what I shall tell Farwell +if I ever see him again. It's rather a bungling thing I've done. I'll +receive my reward, doubtlessly, but I would do the same, were I placed in +the same position, over and over again.</p> + +<p>"Farwell Maxwell, known to you as Anton Farwell, has been part, the +biggest part, of my life since we were young boys. We were about as +pitiful a contrast as can be imagined, and for that reason met each +other's needs more completely. We had only one thing in common—money. He +was a straight, handsome fellow, while I was—what you see before you—a +crooked, distorted creature, but one in whose heart and soul dwelt all +the cravings and aspirations of youth and intelligence. I was alone in +the world. My father died before my birth, and I cost my mother—her +life. Farwell had, until he was twenty, an adoring though foolish mother, +who laid undue emphasis upon his rights and privileges. She, and an older +brother, died when he was twenty-one—died before the trouble came, but +not before they had done all they could to train him for it. At +twenty-one he was a selfish, hot-headed fellow with a fortune at his +command, a confused sense of right and wrong, an ungoverned, artistic +nature swayed by impulse, and, yes, honest affection and generous +flashes. And I? Well, I found I could buy with my money what otherwise I +must have gone without, but the shadow never counted for the substance +with me. The fawning favour, which held its sneer in check, filled me +with disgust, and I would have been a bitter, lonely fellow but—for +Farwell.</p> + +<p>"I never could quite understand him; I do not to-day, but he, from the +beginning, did not seem to recognize or admit my limitations. Through +preparatory school and college we went side by side. He called me by the +frank and brutal names that boys and men only use to equals. I wonder if +you can understand when I say that to hear him address me as an infernal +coward, when I shrank from certain things, was about the highest +compliment I knew?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured Priscilla, "I can understand that." She could not see +Boswell; the low, impassioned words came from out the shadows like +thoughts. "Yes, I can quite understand how you felt."</p> + +<p>"I am glad that you can, for then you will see—why I have done—what I +could for Farwell—when he needed me. Back in those old days he was not +content to shame me into playing my part; by that power of his, that +worked both good and evil, he compelled others, in accepting him, to +accept me on equal terms. There was a seat for me at the tables to which +he was invited; he discovered my poor talent for telling a story, and +somehow hypnotized others into considering me a wit! A wit!"</p> + +<p>A silence fell between the two by the fire. Priscilla's throat was hard +and dry, her heart aching with pity.</p> + +<p>"And then," Boswell continued drearily, "the crash came when he was only +twenty-five! I suppose he was savagely primitive. That was why externals +did not count so much with him. He could not brook opposition, especially +if injustice marked it; he was never able to estimate or eliminate. He +was like a child when an obstacle presented itself. If he could not get +around it, he attacked it with blind passion.</p> + +<p>"It was part of his nature to espouse the cause of the weak and needy; +that was what held him, unconsciously, to me; it was what attracted him +to Joan Moss."</p> + +<p>The name fell upon Priscilla's mind like a shock. The story was nearing +the crisis.</p> + +<p>"She was outwardly beautiful; inwardly she was as deformed—as I! But in +neither case was he ever able to get the right slant. He loved us both in +his splendid, uncritical way. His love brought me to his feet in abject +devotion: it lured the woman to accomplish his destruction. Something, +some one, menaced her! He tried to sweep the evil aside, but——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, please go on!" Priscilla was breathless.</p> + +<p>"Well, he couldn't sweep it aside; so he committed—murder."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Mr. Boswell!"</p> + +<p>The shuddering cry drew Boswell to the present. He remembered that his +listener knew Farwell only as a friend and gentle comrade. Her shock was +natural.</p> + +<p>"You—you never guessed? Why do you think he, that brilliant fellow, +stayed hidden like a dead thing all these years?"—there was a quiver in +Boswell's voice—"hidden so deep that—not even I dared to go to him for +fear I would be followed and he again trapped! Oh! 'twas an ugly thing he +did; but he was driven to insanity—even his judges believed that—at the +last; but his victim was too big a man to go unavenged, so they hunted +Farwell down, caught him in a trap, and tried to finish him, but he got +away and they thought him—dead."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," moaned Priscilla, "yes, I know. And the woman—did her heart +break?"</p> + +<p>At this Boswell leaned forward, and, in the fire's glow, Priscilla saw +his face grow cruel and hard.</p> + +<p>"Her heart break? No, she went promptly to the devil, once she was sure +she had lost Farwell and his money. Down to the last hope she made him +believe in her. How she acted! But when he was reported dead, well!"—and +Boswell gave a harsh laugh—"her heart did not break!"</p> + +<p>A sound brought Boswell back to the dim room.</p> + +<p>"You are—crying?" he said slowly; "crying for him?"</p> + +<p>"For him, yes, and for you!"</p> + +<p>"For me?"—a wonderful tenderness stole into the man's voice—"for me? I +do not think any one before—ever cried for me. Thank you. You understand +what all this meant to me? What a—woman you will be—if——"</p> + +<p>Priscilla raised her tear-stained face and her lips quivered as she +recalled that Farwell had said almost exactly the same words to her back +there in the In-Place. She understood because she had been lonely and +known the suffering of the lonely. She must never forget, never fail +those who needed her! But Boswell was talking on again with a new note of +feeling in his voice.</p> + +<p>"While I thought him dead I sank back into my shell, sank lower than I +had ever been before. I wanted to die; wanted it so truly that I planned +it; grew interested in arranging my affairs. Preparing to die became my +excitement, and when everything was ready, Farwell spoke to me—from his +grave! That letter from your In-Place worked a miracle upon me. While he +lived there would always be something for me to do. He had made a place +in the world for me; I could keep his place ready for him. It was a small +return, but it meant life—for me.</p> + +<p>"There were years when Farwell felt he was coming back. I heard from him +spring and autumn, and there were hope and promise each time. When people +forgot, he would return, and he wanted to go to—to Joan Moss himself +with his story. So long as he knew that she was alive and faithful it was +enough, and, besides, he realized that had she or I gone to him just then +it might have been fatal. He believed that if she knew where he was she +would hasten to him!</p> + +<p>"Well, just at first I thought that he might come at any time and might +rescue—Joan Moss. I was even willing for him to have her if it could add +any happiness to him. Then there was the money—his money. I kept his +belief in that, too. Everything of his went at the time of the trial, but +mine was his, so that was a small matter. I suppose all the sentiment and +passion that most men spread over their entire lives were, in me, +concentrated on Farwell. When I thought of him caged and alone, in the +wilds, I found lying to him about the only thing I could do. So I kept +his belief in Joan Moss and his fortune. Then something happened to him. +I never knew what it was, but it seemed to take all the hope and courage +from him. He wanted me to see that Joan Moss was well taken care of, and +in case of his death she must have all that he died possessed of. Just at +that time Joan Moss came to me, a wreck! She lived only six months, but +for his sake I saw that she had all that he would have had for her. She +thought that he gave it to her, too, or at least she thought his money +gave it, since it was in his will that she should have it. His name was +on her lips when the end came. I will tell him that some day. It will +help him to forgive me. After that I wrote and wrote to him, making +frantic efforts to secure to him, until he were free, what existed no +longer on earth! That is all."</p> + +<p>The fire had died down and become ashy; the wind no longer howled; the +night had fallen into peace at last.</p> + +<p>Priscilla got up stiffly, for she was cold and nerve-worn. She walked +unsteadily to Boswell, her tear-stained face twitching with emotion, her +hands outstretched. In her eyes was the look that only once or twice +in his life had Boswell ever seen directed toward him by any human +being—the look that claimed the hidden and best in him, forgetting the +deformities that limited him.</p> + +<p>"I think you are the best man on earth, the noblest friend. Oh! what can +we do for Master Farwell?"</p> + +<p>Quite simply Boswell took the hands in his. Her eyes made him brave and +strong, and her "we" throbbed in his thoughts like a warm and tender +caress.</p> + +<p>"You must leave that to me," he said gently, giving his kindly smile. "I +cannot share this burden with you. So long have I borne it that it has +become sacred to me. It means only making the story a little longer, a +little stronger. Some day he will have to know—some day; but not now! +not now!"</p> + +<p>Just then a distant church bell struck the midnight hour. Solemnly, +insistently, the twelve strokes rose and fell.</p> + +<p>"The wind has passed," whispered Boswell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the fire is dead. You are very, very tired, I am sure," +Priscilla murmured.</p> + +<p>Something new and maternal had entered into her thought and voice. While +life lasted she was always to see in the crippled man a brave and patient +soul who played with sternest problems because he had no other toys with +which to while away his dreary years; no other offerings for them he +loved.</p> + +<p>"Yes. The play is over for—to-night. The Property Man can take his rest +until—to-morrow. Turn on the lights, Priscilla Glenn. You and I must +find our way out of the darkness."</p> + +<p>"Let me help you, Mr. Boswell."</p> + +<p>"Help me? That sounds very kind. I will make believe that I am ninety! +Yes, you may help me. Thank you! And now good night. You need not write +of—Joan Moss to Farwell. I am grateful because you understand and +appreciate my—my attempt. I can bring the tale to a close in great +style. I was a bit discouraged, but it seems clear and convincing now. +That is often the way in my trade of story-maker. We come against a blank +wall, only to find there a gateway that opens to our touch."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<p>After Boswell's confidence concerning Anton Farwell, Priscilla's relation +to the man who had befriended her, to life itself, became more vital and +normal. The superficial conditions were dissipated by the knowledge that +Boswell, in speaking so frankly to her, considered her a woman, not a +child, and expected a woman's acceptance of duties and responsibilities. +Besides this, Boswell himself took on new proportions. His whimsical +oddities had been, for an hour, set aside. For a time he had permitted +her to see and know him—the simple, good man he really was. In short, +Priscilla could no longer play, could no longer make a defence of her +shyness and ignorance; she realized that she must plunge into the +whirlpool for which she had left the In-Place and she must do so at once.</p> + +<p>Boswell might fantastically play at being ninety and permit her to lend +her strength and youth to his use, but she never again could be deceived. +He was assisting her for Farwell's sake. He liked her, found her +entertaining, but intuitively she knew that in order to retain his +respect and confidence she must fulfil her part.</p> + +<p>For a week or so longer he and she went to operas and theatres together +while final arrangements were being completed for her immediate +admittance, on trial, to the finest private hospital in the city, to +which was attached a training school of high repute.</p> + +<p>Priscilla was both right and wrong about Boswell. He did appreciate and +admire her insistence to begin her career. It was the only course for her +to take; but he looked forward to the lonely, empty days without her with +real concern.</p> + +<p>He had, to a certain extent, grown used to the detachment and +colourlessness of his life since Farwell had left it; but here, quite +unexpectedly, a young and vital personality had entered in and had given +him, in a crude, friendly way, to be sure, what his absent friend had +given—the assurance that his deformity could not exclude him from the +sweet humanity that was keen enough to recognize the soul of him. +Sensitive, shrinking from suffering and publicity, the man found in +Priscilla's companionship and confiding friendliness the deepest joy he +had known since his great loss. He wished that he was ninety, indeed, and +that his infirmity and wealth might secure for him this new interest that +had taken him out of himself and caused his sluggish senses to revive. +But he was not yet fifty. For all his handicaps he was still in fair +health, and the best that he could hope for was that Priscilla, among +her new duties, would remember him, come back to him, make his lonely +home a retreat and comfort when her arduous duties permitted.</p> + +<p>Those last few days of freedom and companionship were beautiful to them +both. With pride and a certain complacency, Boswell saw that he had +somewhat formed and developed Priscilla's tastes and judgment. She was no +longer the ignorant girl she once had been. Music did not now move her to +tears and a kind of dumb suffering. She began to understand, to control +her emotions, and gain, through them, pleasure without pain.</p> + +<p>"She laughs," Boswell thought, "more intelligently and discriminately +when she sees a good farce."</p> + +<p>All this was satisfying to them, but on a certain late-winter day it came +to an end, and Priscilla, thrilling with a sense of achievement, entered +St. Albans on probation.</p> + +<p>What the weeks of doubt and preparation meant, no one, not even Boswell, +ever knew. The old childish determination to suffer, in order to know, +held true and unfaltering. The tortured nerves, after the first shocks, +regained their poise and strength; the heavy work and strict discipline +left the sturdy body like fine steel, although weariness often tested it +sorely.</p> + +<p>"'Tis not to dance, Priscilla Glenn," she often warned herself; "it is to +suffer and know!"</p> + +<p>Then she grimly set her strong, white teeth. With all the getting and +relinquishing, however, she never forgot to laugh, and her courageous +cheerfulness won for her more than she realized while she was learning +the curves of her Road.</p> + +<p>And then she was accepted. No one but herself had ever doubted her +triumph, but when she first learned the verdict she was wild with delight +and could hardly wait for her "hours off" to tell Boswell all about it.</p> + +<p>She was "capped" at last. No hard-won crown was ever appreciated more +than that white trifle which rested like a bit of snow upon the "rusty +hair" of Priscilla Glenn.</p> + +<p>Before the little mirror in her own bedchamber, on that first victorious +day, she posed and confided to her appreciative reflection.</p> + +<p>"So this is Priscilla Glenn of the In-Place?" she whispered. "I simply +can't believe it! No one else would believe it either; and you are not +the same. You never will be again what you once were."</p> + +<p>The flush of excitement showed plainer now than of yore, for the clear, +dark skin had taken on the delicacy of the city's tint. The eyes were +deep and grave, for already they had witnessed the mystery of life and +death. They had smiled down at pain-racked motherhood; had held, in calm +courage, many an outgoing soul. Priscilla had a closer vision than she +once had had when she dreamed her dreams of what lay beyond the Secret +Portage and the Big Bay.</p> + +<p>The reflection nodded acknowledgment to all that the excited brain +affirmed. Then suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Why, Priscilla Glenn, you are crying! And for—which?"</p> + +<p>The quaint expression brought a smile.</p> + +<p>"You are homesick, Priscilla Glenn, homesick for what you have never had! +That's the matter with you. You want some one to go to and tell about +this, but in all the world there isn't any one who could understand. You +poor, poor dear! What would your father and mother think of you? There, +now, never mind. You are only a—blue and white nurse. Even Master +Farwell and Mr. Boswell could not understand; but a woman could. Some +woman! She would know what it means to be free at last and have +something, quite your own, with which to hew and cut your own road; yes, +your own road, right along to—to the end, just as old Pine used to cut +the new trails. It's the standing up straight at last on your own roots +like the dear little white birch in the Place Beyond the Winds. A woman +could understand, but no one else."</p> + +<p>By some subtle power Priscilla had thought and talked her fancy far and +away from the plain room of St. Albans. Her longing, her quaint "for +which?" the memory of the Indian guide and the little white birch had +performed a miracle. Through the excitement and elation stole the +fantastic power of childhood. She was on her Road, bound for her Heart's +Desire! No doubt, no misgiving, assailed the moment of joy. Forward, just +a little beyond, success awaited her. The possibility of defeat was over +forever. From now on, through weariness, toil, and perhaps suffering, she +was going to her own. She had never realized the tense mental and +physical strain through which she had passed; she did not realize it now, +but with the relaxation came an almost dangerous exhilaration. The +present, only so far as it verified the past, had no hold upon her; +she let herself go.</p> + +<p>Back again was she in Kenmore. It was springtime, and the red rocks and +hemlocks shone and the water sparkled; she heard it lapping against the +tiny islands, so glad was it to be free of the winter's grasp. Some one +was dancing to the Spring's Call—a small, graceful thing with a bright +red cape flying on the wind, the soft wind of the In-Place. There was +music, too! Oh! how clearly it came rising and falling; and then, in the +bare hospital room, the blue-clad nurse tripped this way and that, while +memory held true to note and step!</p> + +<p>Oh! It was on again, on again, that dear old dance. It dried the tears in +the tender eyes and held the smile on the joyous lips. Then, as suddenly +as it had begun, the dance ceased, a flushed face confronted the +reflection in the glass, and a low curtsey followed, while a reverent +voice repeated as if in prayer:</p> + +<p>"Skib, skib, skibble—de—de—dosh!"</p> + +<p>The words came of their own volition; they were part and kin to the mood +that held and swayed her. They were a pagan plea for guidance and +protection in the opening life where wind and fury would beset her.</p> + +<p>Suddenly words of everyday life found their way to her detached +consciousness and recalled her to the present with almost cruel force.</p> + +<p>"It's the little Canuck he wants! Just fancy! I heard him say so to—to +Mrs. Thomas. Such injustice! But there the old Grenadier comes now. +Hustle!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla heard the scampering feet, then, after a moment's pause, the +dignified advance of the superintendent. There was a tap on the door. The +doors of some rooms, owing to discipline, were never tapped by Mrs. +Thomas, but the reason that compelled her to show this courtesy to +Priscilla also caused her to wish this young Canadian was a less serious +person; one more prone to frivol in her "hours off," and not have, for +her most intimate companion, the strange dwarf. She could have forgiven +Priscilla Glenn if, having overdone her "late leave," she had crawled +into a back window to escape punishment. It would have made her more +understandable. As it was, Mrs. Thomas tapped!</p> + +<p>"Come in, please," said Priscilla, and the large, handsome superintendent +entered and sat down.</p> + +<p>"I thought I would come and tell you," she said, trying to keep her +professional expression while her maternal heart warmed to the girl, +"that you have been highly honoured. There is to be a very important +operation to-morrow at three o'clock. Doctor Ledyard is to perform it, +assisted by his young partner. He has asked for several nurses, and he +named <i>you</i>—singled you out. He has observed you; wishes to—use you. +It's a great compliment, Miss Glynn." So often had Priscilla corrected, +to no avail, the wrong pronouncing of her name, that she now accepted it +without further demur. Flushing and trembling, she went close to Mrs. +Thomas and held her hands out impulsively.</p> + +<p>"All my glory is coming at once!" she faltered.</p> + +<p>"Glory? Well, you are a queer girl. To stand for hours under that man's +eye! You call it glory? Why, it is an honour because it is <i>that man, +that eye</i>; but as to glory! My dear Miss Glynn, I must insist that you go +off this afternoon and play—somewhere. Then come back and get a good +night's rest. The life of the richest man in New York will hang in the +balance to-morrow, and not even the glorified nurse can afford to have a +trembling hand when she passes up an instrument or wipes the perspiration +from the surgeon's brow."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, oh! thank you, Mrs. Thomas! Of course, if I were not so +stupid I could make you understand how I feel. I seem to have found the +right way, and everything is conspiring to tell me so. You see, I might +not have qualified; some girls do not. No one might have noticed me; you +might not have been so kind. Often I am rather lonely and ungrateful; +but you must try to believe that I am—very happy now."</p> + +<p>"I suppose"—Mrs. Thomas was holding the radiant young face with her +clear, calm eyes—"I suppose you are one of those natures that craves +success; cannot brook defeat. Life will deal harshly with you."</p> + +<p>"I am willing to suffer. It is the learning I must have. It is the chance +to learn that makes me so glad," Priscilla burst in, "and it's this sure +feeling that I am on the right trail."</p> + +<p>"There is a difference. But somehow the career of a nurse is +so—well—difficult, and—hard," Mrs. Thomas went on. "I wonder how you +can approach it with your enthusiasm undaunted after months of service."</p> + +<p>"I do not know, but it seems my road to what is mine. It gets me so near +people—when they most need me—are so glad to have me! There seems to +be nothing between me—and them. I love it, oh! I love it, Mrs. Thomas!"</p> + +<p>"See here, Miss Glynn, where are you going this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know; just—going."</p> + +<p>"I wish—dear me! I do wish you could go somewhere; do something +shockingly frivolous."</p> + +<p>"No, I couldn't to-day. I feel like praying—or dancing. There's the most +wonderful, singing feeling inside of me. That's why I do not need—fun +as much as most of the girls do. You are very kind; I think I will go to +your big, fine park and walk and walk. I'd like to see the sun set and +the stars——"</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Glynn, unless you promise me to get under shelter before the +stars come out I'll call the police. Some day you will learn that New +York is not your Canadian hamlet."</p> + +<p>Priscilla laughed gayly.</p> + +<p>"Very well. I will take my walk and then go to my dear old friend. He'll +be looking for me from his high window. He always stands there late +afternoons, on the chance of my coming. He says it's a pleasure to feel +you have something that <i>may</i> come, even if you know it isn't coming just +then."</p> + +<p>Priscilla changed her clothing and set forth a half hour later for her +walk and to meet with an adventure that changed the current of her +thought materially. From that afternoon she was pressed and forced up her +Road by a power that had taken her into control with definite purpose.</p> + +<p>She went into the park at the lower entrance and walked rapidly to a high +place that was a favourite with her. So peaceful and detached it was that +she could generally think her thoughts, sing aloud a little song, and +feel safe from intrusion. Being high and open, the sunlight rested longer +there than it did below and misled one as to time.</p> + +<p>There was a glorious sunset that evening, a golden, deep one, against +which the bare trees, towers, and house roofs stood outlined black and +sharp. It was like a burnished shield. It was a still day, with a gentle +crispness in the air that stimulated while it did not chill.</p> + +<p>"Everything is waiting. What for? what for?" Priscilla whispered sociably +to herself. She was young, full of health and success. Of course she was +waiting as the young do. And then something touched her cheek softly, +and, looking down, she saw that her dark suit was covered with feathery +snowflakes. So silently had they escaped a passing cloud that she was +startled. She arose at once and was surprised to find, in the hollow +below, that the paths were crusted and the electric lights gleamed +yellow through a fluttering mist of flying snow. It was very beautiful, +but it warned one to hasten, and besides it had grown quite dark.</p> + +<p>There was a path, Priscilla knew it well, that led straight across the +park to an entrance near Boswell's home, and she took it now at a rapid +pace.</p> + +<p>The beauty of the walk did not escape her, the exhilaration of the air +acted like a cordial upon her, she seemed hardly to touch the ground as +she ran on; and once she paused before setting her foot upon the lovely +whiteness. As she hesitated some one stepped from the shadow of a clump +of bushes and confronted her under the electric light.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me how to find the nearest way out? I'm lost."</p> + +<p>Priscilla's heart gave one hard throb and stood still, it seemed for an +hour, while an almost forgotten terror seized and held her. She was +looking full upon Jerry-Jo McAlpin! A soiled and haggard shadow he was +of what he once had been, but it was Jerry-Jo and no other.</p> + +<p>"I—I did not mean to frighten you. Forgive me. I ain't going to hurt +you, Miss. I——"</p> + +<p>But Priscilla was gone before the sentence was finished. Gone before she +knew whether the speaker had recognized her or not. Gone before—and then +she stood still. She could not leave him to wander alone at night in that +big, strange place. No matter what happened, she must treat him humanly, +she, who knew the danger. She went back, her blood running like ice +through her body; but Jerry-Jo McAlpin was not there. Priscilla waited, +and once she spoke vague directions to the empty space, but no answering +voice replied. Presently she controlled herself, and took to the path +again, and reached John Boswell's house before he had left his window.</p> + +<p>She did not tell of the encounter; she felt she must wait, but in her +heart she knew that Jerry-Jo McAlpin was as surely on her trail as she +was herself. Such things as that meeting did not happen to them of the +In-Place unless for a purpose.</p> + +<p>She had a wonderful evening with Boswell. They did not go out, and after +dinner he read her some manuscript stories. Boswell had never before so +intimately permitted her to come close to his work. She had seen stories +of his in print, had heard plans for others, but before the fire in his +study that night he read, among other things, "The Butterfly and the +Beetle." So beautifully, so touchingly, had he pictured the little +romance, of which Priscilla herself was part, that the tears fell from +the girl's eyes while her lips were smiling at the tender humour. The +undercurrent of meaning threw new light on the lonely life of the rich, +but wretched man. The joy depicted in simple, friendly intercourse, the +aspiration of the Beetle, the grateful appreciation for the plain, common +happenings that in most lives were taken for granted, but which in his +rose to monumental importance, endeared him to her anew. It brought back +to her what Boswell had told her of his relations with Farwell Maxwell, +her Anton Farwell. She could now, with her broader, more mature reason, +understand the devotion the cripple had given the one man who, in the +empty years, had taken him without reservation, had ignored his +limitations, and had been his friend and comrade.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she asked:</p> + +<p>"Have you heard from—from Master Farwell lately?" The question startled +Boswell.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I had a letter yesterday. He has been ill. That squaw woman, Long +Jean, took care of him. The letter sounded restless. There'll be trouble +with Farwell before we get through. My letters are evidently lacking +power, and your silence baffles him."</p> + +<p>"Poor Master Farwell!"</p> + +<p>"I fancy he thought Joan Moss would go to him. It has been hard work to +build a barrier between him and her that could satisfy, now that he +believes you have told her of his being among the living."</p> + +<p>"What have you said to him all this time?"</p> + +<p>Boswell shifted his position, and Priscilla saw the haggard, careworn +look spread over his face. By sudden insight she realized that he looked +old, pitiful, and far from well, and her heart filled with sympathy. +The half-mystical life was telling upon him, becoming a burden.</p> + +<p>"Oh, at first I said the surprise of knowing he lived had made her, made +Joan Moss, ill. It took nearly six months to cover that, and I did some +good writing during that period. Then I told him there were things to +settle; then, fear for his safety overpowered her: dread of being +tracked. And since then—well, since then there has been silence. Can +you not understand? His pride has asserted itself at last. If she will +not communicate with him herself, he will have none of me; none of you. +Has he ever said a word about her to—you?"</p> + +<p>"Never," Priscilla answered.</p> + +<p>"But," Boswell went on, "I notice a change in him; an almost feverish +impatience. I fear he doubts me—after all these years!"</p> + +<p>"And when he knows?"</p> + +<p>The man by the fire shrank deeper in his chair.</p> + +<p>"When he knows?" he repeated. "Why, then he will have an opportunity to +understand my life-long devotion, my gratitude, my love! That is all."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<p>"For real emergencies," Doctor Ledyard once remarked to Helen Travers, +"give me the nervous, high-strung women. They come through shock and +danger better, they hold to a climax more steadily. Your phlegmatic woman +goes to pieces because she hasn't imagination and vision enough to carry +her over the present."</p> + +<p>This reasoning caused him to select Priscilla Glenn for one of the most +critical operations he had ever performed. Among the blue and white +nurses of his knowledge this girl with the strange, uplifted expression +of face; this girl who was actually on the lookout for experience and +practice, and who seriously loved her profession, stood in a class by +herself. He had long had his eye upon her, had meant to single her out. +And now the opportunity had come.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the most important man in business circles, certainly one of the +richest men in the city, had come to that period of his life's career +when he must pay toll for the things he had done and left undone in his +past. The broad, common gateway gaped wide for him, and only one chance +presented itself as a possible means of holding him back from the long +journey he so shudderingly contemplated.</p> + +<p>"One chance in ten?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>"One—in——" Ledyard had hesitated.</p> + +<p>"A hundred?"</p> + +<p>"A thousand."</p> + +<p>A breathless pause followed. Then:</p> + +<p>"And if I do not take it, how long?"</p> + +<p>"A week, a month; not longer."</p> + +<p>"I'll take it."</p> + +<p>"I'll have my partner——Would you care for any one else?" Ledyard asked.</p> + +<p>"No. Since it must be, I put myself in your hands. I trust you above any +one I know. Do your best for me, and in case I slip through your fingers +I thank you now, and—good-bye."</p> + +<p>Before any great event, or operation, Ledyard was supersensitive, highly +wrought, and nervous. When he heard the announcement that day of the +operation: "All is ready, sir!" he stepped, gowned and masked, into the +operating-room, and was aware of a senseless inclination to ask some +one—he did not know whom—to make less noise and to lower the shades. +Then his eye fell, not on the dignified and serene head nurse, not on the +other ghostly young forms in their places near the table, not on the +anesthetist, nor young Travers, his partner, but on the nurse who stood +a little apart, the girl he had selected in order to test her on a really +great case. So radiant and inspired was Priscilla Glenn's face that it +fairly shone in that grim place and positively had the effect of bringing +Ledyard to the calmness that characterized his action once the necessity +demanded.</p> + +<p>"How is your patient, Doctor Sloan?" he asked the anesthetist.</p> + +<p>"Fine, Doctor Ledyard. I'm ready when you are."</p> + +<p>Then tense silence followed, broken only by the click of instruments and +the curt, crisp commands. The minutes, weighted with concentration, ran +into the hour. Not a body in that room was aware of fatigue or anxiety. A +life was at stake, and every one knew it. It did not matter that the man +upon the table was important and useful: had he been the meanest of the +mean and in the same critical state, that steady hand, which guided the +knife so scientifically and powerfully, would have worked the same.</p> + +<p>The sun beat down upon the glass roof of that high room; the perspiration +started to Ledyard's forehead and a nurse wiped it away.</p> + +<p>From her place Priscilla Glenn watched breathlessly the scene before her. +It seemed to her that she had never seen an operation before; had never +comprehended what one could be. She realized the odds against which those +two great men were battling, and her gaze rested finally, not on the head +surgeon, but on his partner. Once, as if by some subtle attraction, he +raised his eyes and met hers. Above the mask his glance showed kindly and +encouragingly. He knew that some nurses lost their nerve when a thing +stretched on as this did; he never could quite overlook the fact that +nurses were women, as well, and he hated to see one go under. But this +young nurse was showing no weakness. Travers saw that, after a moment, +and dropped his eyes. But that glance had fixed Priscilla's face in his +memory, and when, after the great man had been carried to his room with +hope following him, when he could be left with safety to his private +nurse, Travers came upon the girl standing by a deep window in the upper +hall. He remembered her at once and stopped to say a pleasant word.</p> + +<p>This was not the strictly proper thing to do, and Travers knew it. +Ledyard was always challenging his undignified tendencies.</p> + +<p>"Unless doctors and nurses can leave their sex outside their profession," +was a pet epigram of Ledyard's, "they had better choose another."</p> + +<p>But Travers had never been able to fulfil his partner's ideal.</p> + +<p>"It was a wonderful operation," he said. "I hope it did not overtire you. +You will get hardened after a while."</p> + +<p>"I am not at all tired. Yes, it was—wonderful! I did not know any +operation could be like that—I mean in the way that it was done. I have +always been afraid of Doctor Ledyard before; all of us are; I shall never +be again."</p> + +<p>"May I ask why?"</p> + +<p>Travers, being young and vital, was forgetting, for the moment, his +professional air to a dangerous extent. He was noticing the strange +coloured hair under the snowy cap, the poise of the head, the deep +violet eyes in the richly tinted face.</p> + +<p>"It was that—well, the look on his face after he had done all that he +could—done it so wonderfully. That look was—a prayer! I shall never +forget."</p> + +<p>Travers gave a light laugh.</p> + +<p>"It would be like Doctor Ledyard," he said with a peculiarly boyish ring +in his voice, "to do his part first and pray afterward."</p> + +<p>"But no one could ever be afraid of him again having once seen that +look!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Glynn," Travers replied; "they could! and yet the <i>look</i> holds the +fear in check."</p> + +<p>Priscilla went early to bed that night. She had planned a visit to +Boswell when her enthusiasm was at its height, but at the day's end she +found herself so exhausted that she sought her room in a state bordering +on collapse.</p> + +<p>Sounds outside caught and held her attention; every sense was quiveringly +alert and receptive; she was at the mercy of her subconscious self.</p> + +<p>"Extry! extry!" bellowed a boy just below her window; "turribul +accident on—de—extry! extry! Latest bulletin—Gordan Moffatt—big +fin—cier—extry! extry!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla sat up in bed and listened. So intimate had the insistent boy +in the street become that she was drawn to him by a common bond of +sympathy.</p> + +<p>Slowly a luxurious sense of weariness overcame her and again she leaned +back on her pillow and sank into a semiconscious sleep. Balanced between +life and the oblivion, into which reason enters blindfolded, she made no +resistance, but was swayed by every passing wave of thought, memory, and +vision.</p> + +<p>The voice outside merged presently into Jerry-Jo McAlpin's. So naturally +did it do so that the girl upon the bed, rigid and pale, accepted the +change with no surprise.</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo was asking her the way out! He was lost—lost. He wanted to get +out of the darkness and the noise; he wanted to find his way back to the +In-Place.</p> + +<p>Yes, she would show him! There was no fear of him; no repulsion. She was +very safe and strong, and she knew that it was wiser for Jerry-Jo to go +back home.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly she and he were transported from the bewildering city, +talking in its sleep, to the sweet, fresh dimness of the Kenmore Green, +where the steamer had left them. It was early, very early morning, not +more than four o'clock, and the stars were bright and the hemlocks black, +and the red rocks looked soft in the shadows, like pillows. And over the +Green, loping and inquisitive, came Sandy McAdam's dog, Bounder. How +natural and restful the scene was! Then it was Jerry-Jo, not Priscilla, +who was leading. The half-breed with a gesture of friendliness was +beckoning her on toward the mossy wood path leading to Lonely Farm. There +was a definiteness about the slouching figure that forbade any pause at +the White Fish Lodge or the master's dark and silent house. Priscilla +longed to stop, but she hastened on, feeling a need for hurry.</p> + +<p>Presently she saw the little house, her father's house, and there was a +light shining from the kitchen window. Jerry-Jo, still preceding her, +tapped on the outer door, but when the door fell open Jerry-Jo was gone! +Alone, Priscilla confronted her father, and saw with surprise that he +evidently expected her. While the look of hatred and doubt still rested +in his eyes, there was also a look of dumb pity. No word was spoken. +Nathaniel merely stepped aside and closed the door behind her. Then she +began a strange, breathless hunt for something which, at first, she could +not call by name; it evaded and eluded her. Something was missing; +something she wanted desperately; but the rooms were horribly dark and +lonely, and the stillness hurt her more and more.</p> + +<p>At last she came back to her father and the warm, lighted kitchen.</p> + +<p>"I cannot find—my mother," she said, and the reality set her trembling.</p> + +<p>"Your—mother? I—I cannot find her, either. I thought she—followed +you!"</p> + +<p>Cold and shivering, Priscilla sat up in bed. Her teeth chattered and +there were tears on her cheeks. They did not seem like her own tears. It +was as if some one, bending over her, had let them fall from eyes seeking +to find her in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Mother!" moaned Priscilla, and with the word a yearning and craving for +her mother filled every sense. By a magic that the divine only controls, +poor Theodora Glenn in that moment was transformed and radiantly crowned +with the motherhood she had so impotently striven to achieve in her +narrowed, blighted life. The suffering of maternity, its denials and +relinquishings she had experienced, but never its joy of realization, +unless, as her spirit passed from the Place Beyond the Winds to its +Home, it paused beside the little, narrow, white bed upon which Priscilla +lay, and caught that name "Mother!" spoken with a sudden inspiration of +understanding.</p> + +<p>And that night, with only her grim husband and Long Jean beside her, +Theodora escaped the bondage of life.</p> + +<p>After the strange dream, Priscilla, awed and trembling, walked to the +wide open window of her room. For some moments she stood there breathing +fast and hard while the cruel clutch of superstition hurt and held her.</p> + +<p>"Something has happened," she faltered, leaning upon the casement and +looking down into the silent street, for the restless city had at last +fallen to sleep. "Something in Kenmore!"</p> + +<p>A red, pulsing planet, shining high over a nearby church tower, caught +her eye and brought a throb of comfort to her—a tender thought of home.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow, perhaps, a letter will come from Master Farwell; if not, I +will write to him. I must know."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p>For two or three days things fell into such commonplace routine that the +excitement of the big operation and the disturbing dream of the night +lost their sharp, clear lines; became blurred and part of the web and +woof of the hospital régime. There was little time for introspection or +romancing and even the chance meeting with Jerry-Jo was relegated to the +non-essentials. Of course he was in the city, but so were the Hornby boys +and others from the In-Place. The whirlpool was a big and rushing thing, +and if they who had once been neighbours caught a glimpse of each other +from dizzy eddies, what did it matter? The possibility of second meetings +was rare.</p> + +<p>John Boswell had been sympathetic, to a certain degree, with Priscilla +concerning the operation and her very evident pride in the part she had +been permitted to take in it. With the instinctive horror that many have +concerning sickness and suffering, he always made an effort to appear +sympathetic when Priscilla grew graphic. Often this caused her to laugh, +but she never doubted Boswell's sincere interest in her, personally. That +she had overcome and achieved was a thing of real gratification to the +lonely man; that she came to him naturally and eagerly, during her hours +of freedom, was the only unalloyed joy of his present existence. Even +Toky hailed her appearances now with frank pleasure, for she, and she +alone, brought the rare, sweet smile to the master's face and gave a +meaning to the artistic meals that were planned.</p> + +<p>"I think, my Butterfly," Boswell often said to her, "that you have soared +to glory through suffering and gore! But it is the soaring and the glory +that matter, after all. Do not lay it up against your poor Beetle if he +makes a wry face now and then. You are desperately dramatic, you know, +but even in my shudders I do not lose sight of the fact that you are a +very triumphant Butterfly."</p> + +<p>Priscilla beamed upon him; the new light of well-poised serenity did not +escape him.</p> + +<p>"If I could only explain!" she once said to him as they sat facing each +other across the table that Toky had laid so artistically. "When I feel +the deepest my words seem shut in a cage; only a few get through the +bars. I really believe people all feel the same about their little +victories. It isn't the kind of victory; it is the sure realization that +you are doing <i>your</i> work—the work you can do best. Why, sometimes I +feel as if I were the big All Mother, and the sad, helpless, suffering +folk were <i>my</i> dear children just looking to me—to me! And then I try +to take the pain and fear from their faces by all the arts my profession +has taught me and all the—the <i>something</i> that is in me, and—I tell +you——"</p> + +<p>Priscilla paused, while the shining light in her big eyes was brightened, +rather than lessened, by the tears that gathered, then retreated.</p> + +<p>"And for all this," Boswell broke in, "you are to get twenty-five per, or +for a particular case, thirty-five per?"</p> + +<p>They smiled broadly at each other, for their one huge, compelling joke +loomed close.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, when one considers what two intelligent people, like you and +me, did with Master Farwell's one hundred dollars, the future looks +wonderfully rich! I shall soon be able to repay the loan with interest."</p> + +<p>And then they talked a bit of Master Farwell and the In-Place, always +skirting the depths gracefully, for Boswell never permitted certain +subjects to escape his control. It was the half-playful, but wholly +kind dignity that had won for him Priscilla's faith and dependence.</p> + +<p>For a week or two after Gordon Moffatt's operation things went calmly and +prosaically at the hospital. The rich man recovered so rapidly and +satisfactorily that even the outside world took things for granted, and +any items of news concerning him were to be found on the inside pages of +the newspapers. During his convalescence Priscilla met Doctor Ledyard and +Doctor Travers many times. Once, by some mysterious arrangement, she was +assigned charge, in the rich man's room, while his own nurse was absent. +For three days and nights she obeyed his impatient commands and reasoned +with him when he confused his dependent condition with his usual +domineering position.</p> + +<p>"Damn me!" he once complained to Travers when he thought Priscilla was +out of hearing; "that young woman you've given charge over me ought to +have a bigger field for her accomplishments. She's a natural-born tyrant. +I tried to escape her this morning; had got as far as one foot out of bed +when she bore down upon me, calmly, devilishly calmly, pointed to my +offending foot, and said: "Back, sir!" Then we argued a bit—I'm afraid I +was a trifle testy—and finally she laid hands upon my ankle in the most +scientific manner and had me on my back before I could think of the +proper adjectives to apply to her impudence."</p> + +<p>Travers laughed and looked beyond the sick man's bed to the bowed head of +Priscilla as she bent over some preparation she was compounding in an +anteroom. From a high window the sunlight was streaming down on the +wonderful rusty-coloured hair. The girl's attitude of detachment and +concentration held the physician's approving glance, but the wave of +hair under the white cap and against the smooth, clear skin lingered in +the memory of the <i>man</i> long after he forgot Moffatt's amusing anecdote.</p> + +<p>And then, because things were closing in upon Priscilla Glenn's little +stage, something happened so commonplace in its character that its effect +upon the girl was out of all proportion.</p> + +<p>After a rather strenuous day she was sleeping heavily in her little white +room when a sharp knock on her door brought her well-trained senses into +action at once.</p> + +<p>"There's been an accident, Miss Glynn." It was the superintendent who +spoke. "Please report on Ward Five as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>It was an insignificant accident; such a one as occurs shockingly often +in our big cities. A large touring car, with seven passengers, rushing up +a broad avenue with a conscientious man at the wheel, had overhauled a +poor derelict with apparently no fixed purpose in his befuddled brain. In +order to spare the fellow, the chauffeur had wheeled his car madly to one +side, and, by so doing, had hit an electric-light pole, with the result +that every one was more or less injured, the forlorn creature who had +caused the excitement, most of all, for the over-turned machine had +included him in its crushing destruction.</p> + +<p>Four men and three women were carried to St. Albans and now occupied +private rooms, while the torn and broken body of the unknown stranger lay +in Ward Five, quite unconscious. He was breathing faintly, and, since +they had made him clean and decent, he looked very young and wan as he +rested upon the narrow, white bed.</p> + +<p>Priscilla stood at the foot of the cot and read the chart which a former +nurse had hurriedly made out; then she came around to the side and looked +down upon—Jerry-Jo McAlpin!</p> + +<p>She knew him at once. The deathlike repose had wiped away much that +recent years had engraven on his face. He looked as Priscilla remembered +him, standing in his father's boat, proudly playing the man.</p> + +<p>For a moment the quiet girl grew rigid with superstitious fear. That +deathlike creature before her filled her with unreasoning alarm. She +almost expected him to open his black eyes and laughingly announce that +he had found her at last! She longed to flee from the room before he had +a chance to gain control of her. She breathed fast and hard, as she had +that morning when his ringing jeer had stayed her feet as she ran from +the Far Hill Place after the night of terror. Then sanity came to her +relief and she knew, with a pitying certainty born of her training, that +Jerry-Jo McAlpin could never harm her again. That he was a link between +the past and the future she realized with strange sureness. He had always +been that. He had made things happen; been the factor in bringing +experiences to her. She, in self-preservation, would not claim any +knowledge of him now; she would care for him and wait—wait until she +understood just what part he was to play in her present experience. +He might threaten all that she had gained for herself—her peace and +security. Her only safeguard now was to ignore the personality before +her and respond to the appeal of the "case."</p> + +<p>Jerry-Jo was destined to become interesting before he slipped away. Known +only as a number, since he had not been identified or claimed, he rapidly +rose to importance. After three days of unconsciousness he still +persisted, and while his soul wandered on the horizon, his body responded +to the care given it and grew in strength. One doctor after another +watched and commented on his chances, and in due time Doctor Travers, +hearing of the case, stopped to examine it, and, in the interest of +science, suggested an operation that might possibly return the poor +fellow to a world that had evidently no place for him.</p> + +<p>"It's worth trying," Travers said as he and Priscilla stood beside the +bed. "We haven't found out anything concerning him, have we?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Suppose he—well, suppose he had any claim upon you, would you take the +chance of the operation for him?"</p> + +<p>The deep, friendly eyes were fixed upon the girl. She coloured sharply, +then went quite pale. There was a most unaccountable struggle, and +Travers smiled as he thought how conscientious she was to feel any deep +responsibility in a question he had asked, more in idle desire to make +talk than for any other reason.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied suddenly, as her head was lifted; "yes, I'd give him +every chance."</p> + +<p>Just then, in one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, +the man upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then +at Priscilla. Again his gaze shifted, gaining strength and meaning. From +the far place where he had fared for days his mind, lighted by reason, +was abnormally clear and almost painfully reinforced by memory. Then he +laughed—laughed a long, shuddering laugh that drew the thin lips back +from the white, fang-like teeth. Before the sound was finished the light +faded from the black eyes and the grim silence shut in close upon the +last quivering note.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/gs04.jpg"><img src="images/gs04.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h3><a name="gs04" id="gs04"></a>[Illustration:"In one of those marvellous flashes of regained +consciousness, the man upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, +first at Travers, then at Priscilla"]</h3> + +<p>"We'll take the chance," said Travers. And late that very afternoon they +took it.</p> + +<p>A week later Priscilla sat beside the man's bed, her right hand upon his +pulse, her watch in her left. So intent was she upon the weak movement +under her slim fingers that she had forgotten all else until a voice from +a far, far distance seemingly, whispered hoarsely:</p> + +<p>"So—so this is—you? I'm not dreaming? I wasn't dreaming before +when—when he and you came?"</p> + +<p>They had all been expecting this. The operation had been very successful, +though it was not to give the patient back to life. They all knew that, +too.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jerry-Jo, it's I."</p> + +<p>There was no tremor in the low voice, only a determination to keep the +world from knowing. Jerry-Jo was past hurting any one.</p> + +<p>"The—lure got you, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the lure got me."</p> + +<p>"I knew you that night in the dark—that night in the park—you ran from +me. I was lost and—and starving!"</p> + +<p>"I came back, Jerry-Jo. I did indeed."</p> + +<p>"Have I been here—long?"</p> + +<p>"Not very. Do not talk any more. You must rest. There is to-morrow, you +know."</p> + +<p>The poor fellow was too weak to laugh, but the long teeth showed for a +moment.</p> + +<p>"I must talk. Listen! Do they know here—about me? know my name?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell them. Don't tell any one. I have done something for you! +They think, back there in Kenmore, that you are with me. I've written +that—and schoolmaster hasn't let on. I haven't gone to the Hornbys here, +because I stood by you. No one must know. See?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jerry-Jo, I see. Please lie still now. It shall be as you wish. You +have been—very good—for my sake!"</p> + +<p>"I've starved and slept in dark holes—for you, and now you and him—have +got to take care of me—or—I'll tell! I'll tell, as sure as God hears +me!"</p> + +<p>"We will take care of you, Jerry-Jo. There! there! I promise; and you +know we of the In-Place stand by each other."</p> + +<p>He was comforted at last, and fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion. +Occasionally, in the days following, he opened his tired eyes and gave +evidence of consciousness. He was drifting out calmly and painlessly, +and all the coarseness and degeneracy of the half-breed seemed dropping +by the way. Sometimes his glance rested on Doctor Travers's face, for +the young physician was deeply interested in the case and was touched by +the lonely, unclaimed fellow who had served science, but could derive no +benefit in return. Often Jerry-Jo's dark eyes fell upon the pitying face +of Priscilla Glenn with ever-growing understanding and kindliness. +Sometimes in the long nights he clung to her like a child, for she was +very good to him; very, very devoted.</p> + +<p>One night, when all the world seemed sleeping, he whispered to her:</p> + +<p>"You—you don't know, really?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla thought he was wandering, and said gently:</p> + +<p>"No, Jerry-Jo, really I do not know."</p> + +<p>"What will you give me—if I tell you the biggest secret in the world?"</p> + +<p>She had his head in the hollow of her arm; he was resting more calmly so. +He had been feverish all day.</p> + +<p>"What—can I give you, Jerry-Jo?"</p> + +<p>The old, pleading look was in the dark eyes, but low passion had vanished +forever.</p> + +<p>"Could you—would you give me a kiss for the secret?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jerry-Jo," and the kiss fell upon the white brow.</p> + +<p>Could John Boswell have been there then he would have understood.</p> + +<p>"You—you are crying! I feel a tear with the kiss!"</p> + +<p>The quivering, broken smile smote Priscilla to the heart. The ward +was deathly quiet; only the deep breathing of men closer to life than +Jerry-Jo McAlpin broke the stillness.</p> + +<p>"Why—do you cry?"</p> + +<p>"You know, it's a bad habit of mine, Jerry-Jo."</p> + +<p>"Yes. You—you cried on his book, you remember?"</p> + +<p>"I remember."</p> + +<p>"Do—you know where he is—now?"</p> + +<p>"No. Do you?"</p> + +<p>The head upon the strong, young arm moved restlessly.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I know—and I'm—going to tell you! It's the biggest joke I ever +knew. Just to think—that you don't know, and he doesn't know, and—and +I do!"</p> + +<p>A rattling, husky laugh shook the thin form dangerously. Every instinct +of the nurse rose in alarm and defence.</p> + +<p>"You must not talk any more, Jerry-Jo. Lie still. Come, let us think of +the In-Place."</p> + +<p>Priscilla slipped her arm from under the dark head, and took the +wandering hands in hers. Her random words had power to hold and chain +the weak mind.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to tell you—where he is—but we'll go back to the In-Place. I +want to tell you there, and—he'll come and find you. I'd like to do you +both a good turn—for what you've done for me."</p> + +<p>Then, after a pause and a gasping breath:</p> + +<p>"It's growing dark, but there's Dreamer's Rock and Bleak Head!"</p> + +<p>"And, Jerry-Jo," whispered Priscilla, "there's Lone Tree Island, +don't you see? Your boat is coming around into the Channel. Please tell +me—where he is, Jerry-Jo——"</p> + +<p>Priscilla realized he was going fast, and the secret suddenly gripped her +with strange power. She must have it; she must know!</p> + +<p>"Please, Jerry-Jo, tell me where he is. I have wanted so to know! Listen! +Can you not hear—the dear old sounds, the pattering of the soft little +waves that the ice has let go free? There's the farm, the woods——" But +Jerry-Jo was struggling to rise; his black eyes wide and straining, his +thin arms outstretched.</p> + +<p>"No!" he moaned hoarsely, and already he seemed far away. "I can't make +the Channel. I'm headed for the Secret Portage and the Big Bay."</p> + +<p>"Jerry-Jo! oh! tell me, where is he? Where is he?"</p> + +<p>But Priscilla knew it was too late. She bent and listened at the still +breast that was holding the secret close from her. Then, with a sense of +having been baffled, defeated, and cruelly cheated, she dropped her wet +face in her hands for a moment before she went to do her last duty for +Jerry-Jo.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + + +<p>The following June Priscilla Glenn graduated. She and John Boswell grew +quite merry over the event.</p> + +<p>"I really can't let you spend anything on me," she said laughingly; +"nothing more than the cost of a few flowers. I have the awful weight of +debt upon me at the beginning of my career. One hundred dollars to Master +Farwell, and——"</p> + +<p>"The funeral expenses of that poor waif you were so interested in! My +dear child, you are as niggardly with your philanthropies as you are with +your favours. Why not be generous with me? And, by the way, can you tell +me just why that young fellow appealed to you so? I daresay other +'unknowns' drift into St. Albans."</p> + +<p>"He looked—you will think me foolish, Mr. Boswell—but he looked like +some one I once knew in Kenmore."</p> + +<p>The warm June day drifted sunnily into Boswell's study window. There was +a fragrance of flowers and the note of birds. Priscilla, in her plain +white linen dress, was sitting on the broad window seat, and Boswell, +from his winged chair, looked at her with a tightening of the throat. +There were times when she made him feel as he felt when Farwell Maxwell +used to look at him before the shadow fell between them—the shadow that +darkened both their lives.</p> + +<p>"And that was why you had a—a Kenmore name graven on the stone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Boswell, Jerry-Jo McAlpin. Jerry-Jo is dead, too, you know. +They name living people after dead ones. Why not dead people?"</p> + +<p>"Why, indeed? It's quite an idea. Quite an original idea. But as to my +spending money on your graduation, a little more added to what you +already owe me will not count, and, besides, there is that trifle left +from Farwell's loan still to your credit."</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Boswell, don't press me too close! I was a sad innocent when +I came from the In-Place, and a joke is a joke, but you mustn't bank on +it."</p> + +<p>The bright head nodded cheerfully at the small, crumpled figure in the +deep chair.</p> + +<p>"After you live in New York three years, Mr. Boswell, you never mistake +a shilling for a dollar, sir. But just because it is such a heavenly +day—and between you and me, how much of that magic fund is left?"</p> + +<p>"I've mislaid my account," Boswell replied, the look that Toky watched +for stealing over his thin face; "but, roughly speaking, I should say +that, with the interest added, about fifty dollars, perhaps a trifle +more."</p> + +<p>Priscilla threw back her head and laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>"I can understand why people say your style is so absorbing," she said +presently; "you make even the absurd seem probable."</p> + +<p>"Who have you heard comment on my style?" Boswell leaned forward. He was +as sensitive as a child about his work.</p> + +<p>"Oh, one of the doctors at St. Albans told me that, to him, you were the +Hans Christian Andersen of grown-ups. He always reads you after a long +strain."</p> + +<p>A flush touched the sallow cheeks, and the long, white fingers tapped the +chair arms nervously.</p> + +<p>"Well!" with a satisfied laugh, "I can prove the amount to your credit in +this case without resorting to my style. Would you mind going into your +old room and looking at the box that you will find on the couch?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla ran lightly from the study, her eyes and cheeks telling the +story of her delight.</p> + +<p>The box was uncovered. Some sympathetic hand, as fine as a woman's, had +bared the secret for her. No mother could possibly have thought out +detail and perfection more minutely. There it lay, the gift of a generous +man to a lonely girl, everything for her graduating night! The filmy gown +with its touch of colour in embroidered thistle flowers; the slippers and +gloves; even the lace scarf, cloud-like and alluring; the long gloves and +silken hose.</p> + +<p>Down beside the couch Priscilla knelt and pressed her head against the +sacred gift. She did not cry nor laugh, but the rapt look that used to +mark her hours before the shrine in Kenmore grew and grew upon her face.</p> + +<p>"You will accept? You think I did well in my—shopping?"</p> + +<p>Boswell stood in the doorway, just where a long path of late June +sunlight struck across the room. For the girl, looking mutely at him with +shining eyes, he was transfigured, translated. Only the great, tender +soul was visible to her; the unasking, the kind spirit. Moved by a sudden +impulse, Priscilla rose to her feet and walked to him with outstretched +hands; when she reached him he took her hands in his and smiled up at +her.</p> + +<p>"I—I accept," she whispered with a break in her voice. "You have made +me—happier than I have ever been in my life!"</p> + +<p>Boswell drew her hands to his lips and kissed them.</p> + +<p>"And you will come and see me in them"—Priscilla turned her eyes to the +box—"when I—dance?"</p> + +<p>"You are to dance?"</p> + +<p>"We are all to dance."</p> + +<p>"I have not seen you dance for many a day. If you dance as you once did +there will be only you dancing. Yes, I will come."</p> + +<p>And Boswell went. The exercises were held in the little chapel. From his +far corner he watched the young women, in uniforms of spotless white, +file to the platform for their diplomas. They all merged, for him, into +one—a tall, lithe creature with burnished hair, coppery and fine, and an +exalted face. Later, from behind the mass of palms and ferns in the +dancing hall, he saw only one girl—a girl in white with the tints of +the thistle flower matching the deep eyes.</p> + +<p>And Priscilla danced. Some one, a young doctor, asked her, and +fortunately for him he was a master hand at following. After a moment of +surprise, tinged with excited determination, he found himself, with his +brilliant partner, the centre of attraction.</p> + +<p>"Look! oh, do look at the little Canuck!" cried a classmate.</p> + +<p>"I never saw any one dance as she does"—it was Doctor Travers who spoke +from the doorway beside Mrs. Thomas—"but once before. It's quite +primeval, an instinct. No one can teach or acquire such grace as that."</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, and apropos of nothing, apparently:</p> + +<p>"By the way, Mrs. Thomas, Miss Moffatt has been ordered abroad by Doctor +Ledyard. He spoke to-day about securing a companion-nurse for her. She's +not really ill, but in rather a curious nervous condition. I was +wondering if——" His eyes followed Priscilla, who was nearing the +cluster of palms behind which Boswell sat.</p> + +<p>"Of course!" Mrs. Thomas smiled broadly; "Miss Glynn, of course! She's +made to order. The girl has her way to make. She's been rather overdoing +lately. I don't like the look in her eyes at times. She never asks for +sympathy or consideration, you understand, but she makes every woman, and +man, too, judging by that rich cripple, Mr. Boswell, yearn over her. +She'd be the merriest soul on earth, with half a chance, and she's the +most capable girl I have: ready for an emergency; never weary. Why, of +course, Miss Glynn!"</p> + +<p>"I'll speak to Doctor Ledyard to-night," said Travers.</p> + +<p>Then, strangely enough, Travers realized that he was very tired. He +excused himself, and, walking back through the dim city streets to the +Ledyard home, he thought of Kenmore and the old lodge as he had not for +years.</p> + +<p>"I believe I'll run up there this summer," he muttered half aloud. "I'll +take mother and urge Doctor Ledyard to join us. I would like to see how +far I've travelled from the In-Place in—why it's years and years! All +the way from boyhood to manhood."</p> + +<p>But Ledyard changed the current of his desire. The older man was sitting +in his library when Travers entered, and Helen Travers was in the deep +window opening to the little garden space behind the house.</p> + +<p>Time had dealt so gently with Helen that now, in her thin white gown, she +looked even younger than in the Kenmore days, when her dress had been +more severe.</p> + +<p>"You're late," said Ledyard, looking keenly at him.</p> + +<p>"Very late," echoed Helen, smiling. "I had dinner here and am waiting to +be escorted home."</p> + +<p>"She's refused my company. Where have you been, Dick?"</p> + +<p>"I had to give out the diplomas, you know, at St. Albans."</p> + +<p>"It's after eleven now, Dickie." Helen's gaze was full of gentle pride.</p> + +<p>"I stopped for an hour to see those little girls play."</p> + +<p>"The nurses?" Ledyard frowned. "Girls and nurses are not one and the same +thing, to a doctor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, come, dear friend!" Helen Travers went close to the two who +were dearest to her in the world. "Do not be unmerciful. Being a woman, +I must stand up for my sex. Did they play prettily, Dick? I'm sure they +did not look as dear as they do in their uniforms."</p> + +<p>"One did. She was—well, to put it concisely, she was a—dance!"</p> + +<p>"Umph! That ruddy-headed one, I bet!" Ledyard turned on another electric +light. "See here, Dick, do you think that girl could go abroad with +Gordon Moffatt's daughter? Moffatt spoke about her. She rather impressed +him while he was in St. Albans. She stood up against him. He never +forgets that sort; he swears at it, but he trusts it. The old housekeeper +is going along to keep the party in order, but a trained hand ought to +go, too. The Moffatt girl has the new microbe—Unrest. It's playing the +devil with her nerves. She's got to be jogged into shape."</p> + +<p>"I think we could prevail upon Miss Glynn to go. She has her way to make. +She's been rather——" Travers stopped short; he was quoting Mrs. Thomas +too minutely.</p> + +<p>"Rather what, Dick?" Helen had her head against her boy's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Hunting a job," he lied manfully. "Most of those girls are up against it +once the training is over."</p> + +<p>"And Dick," Helen raised her eyes, "Doctor Ledyard and I were talking +of a trip abroad this summer for—ourselves. Will you come? We want the +off-the-track places. Little by-products, you know. I'm hungry for—well, +for detachment; but with those I love."</p> + +<p>"Just the thing, little mother, just the thing!" The In-Place faded from +sight. In its stead rose a lonely mountain peak that caught the first +touch of day and held it longest. A little lake lay at its foot, and +there was the old house where he and Helen had spent so much of the +summer while he and she were abroad!</p> + +<p>"Where does Miss Moffatt intend to go?" asked Travers.</p> + +<p>"That's it. Her ideas at present are typical of her condition. 'Snip +the cord that holds me,' she said to me to-day; 'beg father to give +me a handful of blank checks and old Mousey'—that's what she calls +the housekeeper—'buy a nice nurse for me in case I need one—a nice +un-nurse-like nurse,' she stipulated—'and let me play around the world +for a few months to see if I can find my real self hiding in some cranny; +then I'll come back and be good!' The girl's a fool, but most girls are +when they've been brought up as she has been. Moffatt is at his wits' +end. Young Clyde Huntter is on the carpet just now. Think of that match! +think of what it would mean to Moffatt! There are times when I regret the +club and cliff-dwelling age where women are concerned."</p> + +<p>"Now, now, my dear friend, please remember my sex."</p> + +<p>Helen ran from Richard to Ledyard. "We're all fagged, and the June night +is sultry. After all, girls, even women, should be allowed a mind of +their own! Take me home, Dick, I'm deeply offended." She smiled and held +out her hands.</p> + +<p>"If they were all as sane as you, Helen," Ledyard's glance softened. "You +are exceptional."</p> + +<p>"Every woman is an exceptional something, good friend, if only an +exceptional fool. I'm rather proud of Margaret Moffatt's determination to +have her way, and that idea of finding herself in some cranny of the old +world is simply beautiful. I wonder——"</p> + +<p>"What, Helen?"</p> + +<p>"I wonder if an old lady like me, a lady with hair turning frosty, might, +by any possibility, find <i>her</i> real self left back there—oh! ages, ages +before—well, before things happened which she never understood?"</p> + +<p>Ledyard's eyes grew moist, but he made no reply.</p> + +<p>It was three days later that Priscilla Glenn received a note from +Margaret Moffatt, but she had already been prepared for it by Doctor +Ledyard and Mrs. Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Since they think I need a nurse," the note ran, "will you call at eleven +to-morrow and see if you consider me sufficiently damaged to require your +care? From what father says, I am prepared to succumb to you at once. +Both father and I like strong oppositions!"</p> + +<p>The June weather had turned chilly after the brief spell of heat, and +when Priscilla was ushered into Margaret Moffatt's private library she +found a bright cannel coal fire in the little grate, beside which sat a +tall, handsome girl in house gown of creamy white.</p> + +<p>"And so you are—Miss Glynn?"</p> + +<p>As a professional accepts a non de plume, Priscilla had accepted her +name.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And you are—Miss Moffatt?"</p> + +<p>"Please sit down—no, not way off there! Won't you take this chair beside +me? I'm rather an uncanny person, I warn you. If I do not like to have +you close to me now, we could never get on—across the water! What +belongs to me, and what I ought to have, is mine from the first. Besides, +I want you to know the worst of me—for your own sake. Would you mind +taking off your hat? You have the most cheerful hair I ever saw."</p> + +<p>Priscilla laid her broad-brimmed hat aside and laughed lightly. She was +as uncanny as Margaret Moffatt, but she could not have described the +charm that drew her to the girl across the hearth.</p> + +<p>"I'm rather a hopelessly cheerful person," she said, settling herself +comfortably; "it's probably my chief virtue—or shortcoming."</p> + +<p>"You know I am not a bit sick—bodily, Miss Glynn. It's positively +ridiculous to have a nurse for me, but if I am to get my way with my +father I must humour him. A dear old family servant is going with me. +Father did want a private cook and guide, but we've compromised on—you! +I do hope you'll undertake the contract. I'm not half bad when I have my +way. Do you think, now that you have seen me for fifteen minutes, that +you could—tolerate me; take the chance?"</p> + +<p>"I should be very glad to be with you." Priscilla beamed.</p> + +<p>"Your eyes are—blue, I declare! Miss Glynn, by all the laws of nature +you should have eyes as dark as mine."</p> + +<p>"Yes; an old nurse back in my Canadian home used to say I was made of the +odds and ends of all the children my mother had and lost."</p> + +<p>"What a quaint idea! I believe she was right, too. That will make you +adaptable. Miss Glynn, let me tell you something, just enough to begin +on, about myself—as a case. I'm tired to death of everything that has +gone before; I do not fit in anywhere. I believe I'm quite a different +person from what every one else believes; I've never had a chance to +know myself; I've been interpreted by—by generations, traditions, and +those who love me. I want to get far enough away to—get acquainted with +myself, and then if I am what I hope I am, I will return like a happy +queen and triumphantly enter my kingdom. If I am not worthy—well, we +will not talk about that! Something, I may tell you some day, has +suddenly awakened me. I'm rather blinded and deafened. I must have time. +Can you bear with me?"</p> + +<p>Margaret Moffatt leaned forward in her chair. Priscilla saw that her +large brown eyes were tear-filled; the strong, white, outstretched +hands trembling. A wave of sympathy, understanding, and great liking +overwhelmed Priscilla, and she rose suddenly and stood beside the girl.</p> + +<p>"I—think I was meant—to help you," she said so simply that she could +not be misunderstood. "When do we—go?"</p> + +<p>"Go? Oh! you mean on the hunt for myself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Father has the refusal of staterooms on two steamers. Could you start +in—a week? Or shall we say three weeks?"</p> + +<p>"It will not take me a day to get ready. My uniforms——"</p> + +<p>"Please, Miss Glynn, leave them behind. I'm sure you're just a nice girl +besides being a splendid nurse. I want the nice girl with me."</p> + +<p>"Very well. That may take two days longer."</p> + +<p>"We'll sail, then, in a week. And will you—will you—will you accept +something in advance, since time is so short?"</p> + +<p>"Something——?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Your—your salary, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean money? I had forgot. I shall be glad to have some. I am +very poor."</p> + +<p>Again the simple, frank dignity touched Margaret Moffatt with pleasurable +liking.</p> + +<p>"It's to be a hundred and fifty dollars a month and all expenses paid, +Miss Glynn."</p> + +<p>"A hundred and fifty? Oh! I cannot——"</p> + +<p>"Doctor Ledyard arranged it with my father. You see, they know what you +are to undergo. I rather incline to the belief that they consider they +are making quite a bargain. I hate to see you cover your hair. Somehow +you seem to be dimming the sunshine. Good-bye until——"</p> + +<p>"Day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I will send a check to St. Albans to-night, Miss Glynn."</p> + +<p>And she did. A check for two hundred dollars with a box of yellow +roses—Sunrise roses they were called.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + + +<p>There are times in life, especially when one is young, that high peaks +are the only landmarks in sight. Priscilla Glenn felt that henceforth her +Road was to be a highway constructed in such a fashion that airy bridges +would connect the lofty altitudes, and all below would exist merely as +views.</p> + +<p>Her first thought, on the day following her interview with Margaret +Moffatt, was to get to John Boswell, and, as she laughingly put it, pay +off her debts!</p> + +<p>Two hundred dollars and a full month's money from St. Albans! Gordon +Moffatt certainly could not feel richer than she. And then the months +ahead! Well—one could get dizzy on one's own heights. So Priscilla +calmed herself by a day of strenuous shopping and looked forward to the +evening with Boswell.</p> + +<p>A dim drizzle set in late in the afternoon, and there was a chill in the +air that penetrated sharply. The mist transformed everything, and, to +tired, overexcited nerves, the real had a touch of the unreal. The park +glistened: the tender new green on tree, bush, and grass looked as if it +had just been polished, and the early flowers stood crisply on their +young stalks.</p> + +<p>At the point where once she had met poor Jerry-Jo McAlpin, Priscilla +paused and was taken into control by memory and the long-ago Past. Quite +unaccountably, she longed to have her mother, even her father, know of +her wellbeing. Surely they would forgive everything if they knew just how +things had turned out for her! She almost wished she had decided to go +back to the In-Place before she started on her trip abroad. She could +have made them understand about her and poor Jerry-Jo. Was old Jerry +waiting and waiting? Something clutched Priscilla sharply. The loneliness +and silence of the Place Beyond the Winds enfolded her like a compelling +dream. How they could patiently wait, those home folks of hers! And how +dear they suddenly became, now that she was going into the new life that +promised her her Heart's Desire!</p> + +<p>Then she decided: since she could not go to them she must write to Master +Farwell, he had never answered her last letter, and beg him to tell them +all about it. He would go, she felt sure, and, by some subtle magic, she +seemed to see him passing along the red-rock road, his long-caped coat +flapping in the soft wind, his hair blowing across his face, the dogs +following sociably. He'd go first to old Jerry's, and then afterward, an +hour, maybe, for it would be hard for Jerry McAlpin—he would go to +Lonely Farm by way of the wood path that led by the shrine in the open +place—was the skull still there with the long-dead grasses in its ears? +It would be night, perhaps, when the master reached the farm; maybe the +star would be shining over the hemlock——</p> + +<p>At this point Priscilla paused and caught her breath sharply. She had +come out of the park by the gateway opposite Boswell's apartment, and +just ahead of her, across the street, was a thin, stooping figure with +caped coat flapping in the rising wind, and hair blowing across a bent +face.</p> + +<p>"I—I am dreaming!" The words came brokenly. "I am bewitched!"</p> + +<p>But with characteristic quickness of thought and action she put her doubt +to the test. Running across the space between her and that slow-stepping +figure she panted huskily:</p> + +<p>"Master Farwell! Master Farwell!"</p> + +<p>He turned and fixed his deep, haunting eyes upon her.</p> + +<p>"It's Priscilla Glenn!" he whispered, as if to reassure himself; "little +Priscilla of the In-Place."</p> + +<p>By some trick of over-stimulated imagination Priscilla tried to adjust +the gentle, kindly man she knew and loved to the strange creature into +which he had evolved since last she met him, but she could not! To her he +would always be the friend and helper, the understanding guide of her +stormy girlhood. The rest was but shadows that came and went, cast by +happenings with which she had nothing to do.</p> + +<p>They were holding each other's hands under the window from which Boswell +was, perhaps, at that very moment watching and waiting.</p> + +<p>"Oh! my Master Farwell!" The tears rolled from the glad eyes. "I did not +know how far and how sadly I had gone until this minute!"</p> + +<p>"But you have not forgotten to be little Priscilla Glenn. My dear! My +dear! how glad and thankful I am to see you. You have grown—yes; you +have grown into the woman I knew you would. Your eyes are—faithful; your +lips still smile. Oh! Priscilla, the world has not"—he paused and his +old, quivering laugh rang out cautiously—"the world has not—doshed +you!"</p> + +<p>And then Priscilla caught him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"You have not seen—him?" she looked upward.</p> + +<p>"No. I was getting up my courage. The bird just freed from its cage—is +timid."</p> + +<p>"Come! A minute will not matter. I must know about my home people."</p> + +<p>They walked on together. Then, because her heart was beating fast and the +tears lying near, she drew close to her deepest interest by a circuitous +way.</p> + +<p>"Tell me of—of Mrs. McAdam and Jerry McAlpin?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. McAdam is famous and rich. The White Fish Lodge has a waiting list +every summer. The—the body of Sandy drifted into the Channel a month +after you left. Bounder found it. You remember how he used to know the +sound of Sandy's engine? The day the body was washed up he—seemed to +know. One grave is filled, and Mary McAdam has put a monument between the +two graves with the names of both boys. Jerry McAlpin has grown old +and—and respectable. He has a fancy that Jerry-Jo will come back a fine +gentleman. All these years he has been preparing for the prodigal. The +young devil has never sent a line to his father. A bad lot was Jerry-Jo."</p> + +<p>And then Priscilla told her story with many a catch in her voice.</p> + +<p>"You see—he did it for me, Master Farwell. He was not all bad. Who is, +I wonder? He lies in a quiet spot Mr. Boswell and I found far out in the +country. There's a hemlock nearby and a glimpse of water. I—I think I +will not let old Jerry know. While he waits, he is happy. While he is +getting ready, life will mean something to him. And oh! Master Farwell, +when—when Jerry-Jo went, he thought he was going through the Secret +Portage to the Big Bay. I believe he will—welcome his father in the open +some day. I will not send word back to the In-Place."</p> + +<p>Farwell frowned.</p> + +<p>"Boswell has touched you with his fanciful methods," he muttered; "is +it—for the best?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure it is. And—my—my people, Master Farwell, my mother?"</p> + +<p>At this Farwell started and stepped back. The light from an electric lamp +fell full on the girl's quivering, brilliant face. He had told Boswell of +the mother's death.</p> + +<p>"You—you did not know?" he asked. "She died——"</p> + +<p>"Died? Master Farwell, my mother dead!"</p> + +<p>"You see—how it hurts when Boswell plays with you?"</p> + +<p>A note of bitterness crept into the voice.</p> + +<p>"When the day of reckoning comes—it hurts, it hurts like—hell!"</p> + +<p>He had forgotten the girl, the white, frantic face.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, tell me when she, my poor mother, died?"</p> + +<p>The words brought him back sharply, and with wonderful tenderness he told +her.</p> + +<p>"Long Jean was with her. She would have her and no other, because she +said Jean had helped you into the world and only she should help her out. +It is a beautiful story they tell in Kenmore of your mother's passing. +She thought she was going to you. She seemed quite happy once she found +the way!</p> + +<p>"'I have found her!' she cried just at the last, 'and +she—understands!'"</p> + +<p>"And I did, I did!" sobbed Priscilla.</p> + +<p>A passerby noticed the sound and paused to look at the two sharply.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," Farwell implored her; "we will arouse suspicion. Let us get +back to—to Boswell. I haven't much time, you see. I have promised Pine +to be back in ten days. Ten days!"</p> + +<p>"You promised—Pine?"</p> + +<p>"And you never knew?" Farwell gave an ugly laugh. "Well, I carried the +ball and chain without a whimper, I can say that for myself. Pine is my +ball and chain. Because he isn't all devil, because he knows I am not, he +went off to play on Wyland Island. You know they kill the devil there the +second week in June. Have you forgotten? Well, Pine has gone to take a +stab at satan, and I'm free—for ten days. Free!"</p> + +<p>"And then?"</p> + +<p>"And then I'm going back voluntarily, and—assume the ball and chain!"</p> + +<p>"Master Farwell!"</p> + +<p>"Do not pity me! It doesn't matter now. I only wanted to—settle with +Boswell. I've been in town—three days."</p> + +<p>They were nearing the big apartment house; lights from the windows were +showing cheerily through the misty fog. A chill fear shook Priscilla as +she began to comprehend the meaning of Farwell's words. In her life +Boswell, and this man beside her, stood for friendship in its truest, +highest sense, and she felt that she must hold them together in spite of +everything. She stood still and gripped Farwell's arm.</p> + +<p>"You—you shall not go to him," she whispered, "until you tell me—how +you are to pay him—for what he has done!"</p> + +<p>Farwell's white, grim face confronted her.</p> + +<p>"How does one pay another for lying to him, cheating him, and—and +playing with him as though he were an idiot or a child?"</p> + +<p>"Why did he do it, Master Farwell, why did he do it?"</p> + +<p>"Because——" But for very shame Farwell hesitated. "It makes no +difference," he muttered. "I'm no fool and Boswell shall find it out."</p> + +<p>"He has told me—the story." Priscilla still stayed the straining figure. +"All his life he has given and given to you all that was in his power to +give. He is the noblest man I ever knew, the gentlest and kindest, and I +never knew a man could love another as he has loved you. What have you +given to him—really? The smiles and jokes of the days long ago that were +heavenly to him—what did they cost you? He gave, and gave his heart's +best; he lied and cheated you, that you might have—some sort of peace +in—in Kenmore. Oh! if you only knew how he has hated it all, how he has +struggled to keep up the play even when he was so weary that the soul of +him almost gave out! And now you come to—to pay him with hate and +revenge when you have the only thing he wants in all the world at your +command—to give him!"</p> + +<p>The impassioned words fell into silence; the uplifted face with its +shining eyes, mist-wet and indignant, aroused Farwell at last.</p> + +<p>"And that is?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yourself! your faith! See, that is his light. He is waiting—for me, +because, since you sent me to him, he has been kind, heavenly kind to me, +for your sake! Everything is, has always been, for your sake. Go to him, +Master Farwell—go alone. I will come by and by; not now. Pay him for all +he has done for you—all these lonely years!"</p> + +<p>Farwell no longer struggled. He took Priscilla's hands in a long, close +clasp.</p> + +<p>"What a woman you have become, Priscilla Glenn! Thank you."</p> + +<p>Without a word more they parted: Farwell to go to the reckoning; +Priscilla to walk in the mist for a bit longer.</p> + +<p>All that occurred in Boswell's library Priscilla was never to know.</p> + +<p>There had been a moment of shock when Boswell, raising his eyes to greet +Priscilla, saw Farwell Maxwell standing in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"You have come!" Boswell gasped, with every sacred thing at stake.</p> + +<p>"I—have come."</p> + +<p>"For—what—Max?"</p> + +<p>"To—to thank you, if I can. To—to tell you +my story."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In the outer room Toky artistically held the dinner back. The honourable +master and his strange but equally honourable friend must not be +disturbed. Something was happening; but after a time Boswell laughed as +Toky had never heard him laugh; so it was well, and the dinner could bide +its time.</p> + +<p>Then Priscilla came, wet and white-faced, but with the "shine-look" in +her eyes that Toky, despite his prejudices and profession, had noted and +respected.</p> + +<p>"We will have the dinner now, Mees?" as if Toky ever considered her to +that extent!</p> + +<p>"I will—see Mr. Boswell."</p> + +<p>"He has—honourable friend."</p> + +<p>"My friend, Toky. The honourable friend is mine, also! And, oh! the +flowers, Toky! There are no roses like the June roses. How wonderfully +you have arranged them! A rose should never be crowded."</p> + +<p>Toky grinned helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Tree hours I take to make—look beautifully. One hour for each—rosy. +That why it look beautifully."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is why it looks—beautifully. Three hours and—you, Toky!"</p> + +<p>Boswell and Farwell were sitting in front of the grate, upon which the +wood lay ready to light. Their faces were pale and haggard, but their +eyes turned to Priscilla without shame or doubt.</p> + +<p>"There is much—to talk about," said Boswell with his ready friendliness; +"Max—your Farwell and mine—has told me——"</p> + +<p>"After dinner, dear friends. I am hungry, bitterly hungry and—cold!"</p> + +<p>"Cold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; see, I am going to set the wood to burning. By the time we come +back the room will be ready for us."</p> + +<p>"To be sure!" Boswell sidled from his deep chair, the pinched look on his +face relaxing.</p> + +<p>"A fire, to be sure. Now, Max, no one but a woman would have thought of a +fire in June."</p> + +<p>"No one but Priscilla!" Farwell added.</p> + +<p>They talked before the fire until late that evening. Priscilla's plans +were discussed and considered. So full was she of excitement and joy that +she did not notice the shock of surprise that Farwell showed when the +names of Ledyard and Travers passed her lips. Seeing that she either did +not connect the men with her past, or had reasons for not referring to +it, Farwell held his peace. It was long afterward that he confided his +knowledge to Boswell, and that wise friend bade him keep his secret.</p> + +<p>"It's her life, and she's treading her Road," he said; "she has an odd +fancy that her Heart's Desire lies just ahead. I cannot see that either +you or I have the right to awaken her to realities while she lives so +magically in her dreams."</p> + +<p>After Priscilla's own plans were gone over and over again, Boswell said +quietly:</p> + +<p>"I'm going back to that blessed In-Place of yours, Butterfly. You +remember how I told you, the first day I met you, that I could not +understand any one choosing the dangerous Garden when he might have—the +Place Beyond the Winds?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla leaned forward, her breath coming sharply.</p> + +<p>"You mean—you are going to—to live in Kenmore?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! <i>Live!</i> That is a bright way of putting it. Live! live! The Beetle +is—going to live!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla looked about at the rich comfort of the room, thought of what +it meant to the delicate cripple crouching toward the blaze, his deep +eyes flame-touched and wonderful. Then she looked at Master Farwell, +whose lips were trembling.</p> + +<p>"He—he calls that—living!" he said slowly. "Tell him, Priscilla, of the +bareness and hardness of the life. I have tried to, but he will not +listen."</p> + +<p>The tears, the ready, easy tears filled Priscilla's eyes, and her heart +throbbed until it hurt.</p> + +<p>"He will love the hemlocks and the deep red rocks," she said, as if +speaking to herself; "he will love the Channel and the little islands, he +will love the woods—and the wind does not blow hard there—he will be +glad of that."</p> + +<p>"But the ugly, wretched bareness of my hut, Priscilla! For heaven's sake, +make him see that!"</p> + +<p>"But the—fireplace, Master Farwell!"</p> + +<p>"And—the friend beside it!" Boswell broke in; "and no more loneliness. A +beetle that has crawled in the Garden so long will thank God for a real +place—of its own. 'Tis but a change of scene for the Property Man."</p> + +<p>"I love the Garden!" murmured Priscilla, sitting between the two men, +her clasped hands outstretched toward the fire, which was smouldering +ruddily.</p> + +<p>"That is because you have wings, Butterfly," Boswell whispered.</p> + +<p>"And no fetter on your soul," Farwell said so softly that only Boswell +heard.</p> + +<p>"I see," Priscilla childishly wandered on, "such a lovely trail leading, +leading—where?"</p> + +<p>"Where, indeed?" Boswell was watching her curiously.</p> + +<p>"That is the beauty of it! I cannot see beyond the next step. All my life +I have tried to keep my yearnings within bounds; now I—just follow. It's +very, very wonderful. Some day I am going back to the In-Place. I shall +find you both sitting by Master Farwell's beautiful fire, I am sure. It +will be the still morning time, I think, and you will be so glad to see +me, and I shall tell you—all about it!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven keep you!"</p> + +<p>Boswell's voice was solemn and deep.</p> + +<p>"Life will keep her safe," Farwell said with a laugh. "Life will take no +liberties with her. She got her bearings, Jack, before the winds knocked +her. Let us both walk home with her. What sort of a night is it?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla went to the window.</p> + +<p>"It's rather black," she returned; "as black as the big city ever is. The +mist is clearing; it's a beautiful night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + + +<p>"Of course," Priscilla leaned back in her deep-cushioned chair and +laughed from sheer delight, "I was a better girl in my former life +than I ever had any idea of, or I wouldn't have been given this——"</p> + +<p>She and Margaret Moffatt were sitting on the piazza of a little Swiss +inn. Below them lay a tiny lake as blue and as clear as a rare gem; round +about them towered snowy peaks, protectingly. All that was past—was +past! There did not seem to be any future; the present was sufficient.</p> + +<p>"I think you must have been rather a good child, back there," Margaret +Moffatt said, looking steadfastly at the girl near her; "and, anyway, you +ought to have a rich reward for your hair if for no other reason."</p> + +<p>"A recompense, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Heavens! no! I was thinking, as I often do when I see the lights in your +hair, that for making people so cheerful and contented nothing is too +good for you. I'm extremely fond of you, Priscilla Glynn! It's only when +you put on your cap and apron manner that I recall—unpleasant things. +Just tuck them out of sight and let us forget everything but—this! +Isn't it divine?"</p> + +<p>"It's—yes, it is divine, Miss Moffatt."</p> + +<p>"Now then! Along with the cap and apron, please pack away Miss Moffatt +and Miss Glynn. Let us be Priscilla and Margaret. This is a whim of mine, +but I have a fancy for knowing what kind of <i>girls</i> we are. No one can +tamper with us here. Dear old Mousey never gets above a dead level, or +below it. Practically we are alone and detached. Let us play—girls! +Nice, chummy girls. Do you know, I never had a friend in my life who +wasn't labelled and scheduled? I was sent to school where just such and +such girls were sent—girls proper for me to know. Often they were not, +but that was not considered so long as they wore their labels. It wasn't +deemed necessary for me, or my kind, to go to college: our lines of +action were chosen for us. Certain labelled men were presented; always +labels, labels! Even when I was running about with my label on I used to +have mad moments of longing to snatch all the hideous things off—my own +as well as others—and find out the truth! And here we are, you and I! I +do not want to know anything about you; I want to find out for myself, in +my own way. I want you to forget that I ever wore a tag. Did you ever +have a girl chum?"</p> + +<p>"I think I know, now," Priscilla said quietly, "why this particular +little heaven was given to me. I never, in all my life, had a girl +friend. Think of that! I did not realize what I was missing until I—came +into your life. Actually, I never had a girl or woman friend in the sense +you mean. I was a lonely, weird little child; and then I—I came to the +training school; and the girls there did not like me—I was still +weird——"</p> + +<p>"Now, Priscilla, I do not want to know anything more about you! I intend +to find you out for myself. Come, there's a boat down there, big enough +for you and me. Do you row?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and paddle."</p> + +<p>"You lived near the water! Ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"And you do—not row, Margaret?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then you have never lived at all. You must learn to use oars and a +paddle. It's when you have your own hand on the power that makes you +go—that you live."</p> + +<p>Margaret Moffatt turned and looked at Priscilla.</p> + +<p>"You say, haphazard, the most Orphic things. There are times when I can +imagine you before some shrine making an offering and chanting all sorts +of uncanny rites. Of course it is when one has her hand on her own +tiller, and is heading for what she wants, that she begins to—live. I +declare, I haven't felt so young in—twenty years! I'm twenty-five, +Priscilla. My father considers me on the danger-line. Poor daddy!"</p> + +<p>"I'm——"</p> + +<p>"I do not want to know your age, Priscilla. Mythological characters are +ageless."</p> + +<p>Those were the days when Priscilla Glenn and Margaret Moffatt found their +youth. Safeguarded by the faithful old housekeeper, who, happily, could +understand and sympathize, they played the hours away like children.</p> + +<p>"We'll travel by and by," promised Margaret. "It's rather selfish for me +to hold you here when all the world would be fresh to you."</p> + +<p>"I take root easily," Priscilla returned, "and I'm like a plant we have +in my old home. My roots spread, and time is needed to strengthen them; +suddenly I shoot up and—flower. The little Canadian blossom doesn't seem +to justify the strong, spreading roots. I hope you will not find me +disappointing, Margaret."</p> + +<p>Margaret Moffatt smiled happily.</p> + +<p>"Just to think," she said, "that my real self and your real self +were waiting for us here behind the white hills! All along, through +generations and generations, they have been acquainted and have loved and +trusted each other, and then we, the unreal selves, came! Sometimes I +wonder"—Margaret looked dreamy—"what they think of us, just between +themselves? I am sure your true self must be prouder of you than mine can +be of me, for, with everything at my command, what am I? While you—oh, +Priscilla, how you have made everything tell!"</p> + +<p>But Priscilla shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Still," Margaret went on, "things were not at my command. They were all +there, but pigeon-holed and controlled. Such and such things were for +nice little girls like me! After a time I got to believe that, and it was +only when, one day, I touched something not intended for me that my soul +woke up. Priscilla, did you ever feel your soul?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it wonderful? It makes you see clearly your—your——"</p> + +<p>"Ideal?" suggested Priscilla.</p> + +<p>"Yes; the thing you want to be; the thing that seems best to <i>you</i> +without the interpretation of others. It stands unclouded and holy; and +nothing else matters."</p> + +<p>"And you never forget—never!"</p> + +<p>"No. Your eyes may be blinded for a moment, but you do not forget—ever!"</p> + +<p>They were out on the gemlike lake now, and Priscilla was sternly +instructing Margaret how to handle an oar.</p> + +<p>"It will never go the way you want it to," Margaret protested, making an +ineffectual dab at the water.</p> + +<p>"When it does you will know the bliss! Get a little below the surface, +and have faith in yourself."</p> + +<p>And that was the day that Priscilla caught a new light on Margaret's +character. They landed at a tiny village across the lake and wandered +about, Margaret talking easily to the people in their own tongue, +Priscilla straining to follow by watching faces and gestures. While they +stood so, discussing the price of some corals, a little child came close +to them and slipped a deliciously dimpled, but very dirty little hand in +Margaret's. At the touch the girl started, turned first crimson and then +pale, and looked down. Suddenly her eyes deepened and glowed.</p> + +<p>"The darling!" she whispered, and bent to catch what the child was +saying. Presently she looked up, tears dimming her eyes, and said to +Priscilla, "She says a new baby came to their house last night. She +wanted to tell—me!"</p> + +<p>"And ten already have been there," broke in a brown-faced native woman.</p> + +<p>"But she is glad, and she wanted <i>me</i> to know! Come, my sweet, tell me +more about the baby, and then we will go and see it."</p> + +<p>They sat down under a clump of trees, and the dirty little maid nestled +close to Margaret, while with uplifted head and unabashed confidence she +told of the mystery.</p> + +<p>Priscilla watched Margaret Moffatt's face. She was almost awed by the +change that had come over it. The aloofness and pride which often marked +it had disappeared as if by magic; the tenderness, passionate in its +intentness, cast upon the little child, moved her to wonder and +admiration. Later they went to the poor hovel and bent beside the humble +bed on which the mother and child lay. Then it was that Priscilla played +her part and made comfortable and grateful the overburdened creature, +worn and weak from suffering.</p> + +<p>"'Twas the good God who sent you," murmured she.</p> + +<p>"'Twas your little maid," smiled Margaret, tucking a roll of bills under +the hard, lumpy pillow. "Take time to love the babies—leave other +things—but love them and enjoy them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>On the way back in the boat Margaret was very silent for a time as she +watched Priscilla row; finally she said:</p> + +<p>"Did it surprise you—my show of feeling for the—the child?"</p> + +<p>"It was very beautiful. I did not know you cared so much for children, +and this one was so—dirty."</p> + +<p>"But so real! You see I have never had real children in my life. The +kinds passed out to nice girls like me were sad travesties. Since I saw +the darling of to-day I've been wondering—do not laugh, Priscilla—but +I've been wondering what poor, cheated little morsel of humanity, in the +unreal world, would find herself in that eleventh miracle of the wretched +hovel? And what an art yours is, dear Priscilla! How you soothed away the +suffering by your touch. I loved you better as I realized how that +training of yours knows neither high nor low when it seeks to heal."</p> + +<p>Priscilla thought of the operation on Margaret Moffatt's father, and her +quick colour rose.</p> + +<p>"And I loved you better when I saw how your humanity knows neither high +nor low—just love!"</p> + +<p>"Only toward little children. I cannot explain it, but when I touch the +babies, their littleness and helplessness make me weak and trembling +before—well, before the strength comes in a mighty wave. There is a +physical sensation, a thrill, that comes with the first contact, and when +they trust me, as that darling did this morning, I feel as if—God had +singled me out! Only lately have I begun to understand what this means +in me. It is one reason why I came away. I had to think it out. I +suppose"—she paused and looked steadily at Priscilla—"I suppose the +maternal has always been a master passion in me, and I've rebelled at +being an only child; at having no children but the—specialized kind. +I have been hungry for so many things I am realizing now."</p> + +<p>"In my training I have seen—what you mean. All sorts drift in—to pay +the price of love or the penalty of passion, as Doctor Ledyard used to +express it; but"—and Priscilla's eyes grew darker—"I used to find—a +nurse gets so much closer, you know, than a doctor can—I found that +sometimes it was the penalty of love and the price of passion. Those +sad young creatures, with only blind instinct to uphold them, were +so—divinely human, and paid so superbly. When it comes to the hour of +a life for a life, one thing alone matters, I am afraid, and it is the +thing <i>you</i> mean, Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Yes. And what a horrible puzzle it all is. The thing I mean should be +always there—always. The world's wrong when it is not."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Priscilla, sending the light boat forward by the impulse of her +last stroke, said, as if it were quite in line with all that had gone +before:</p> + +<p>"There's Doctor Travers on the wharf!"</p> + +<p>He heard her, and called back:</p> + +<p>"Quite unintentionally, I assure you. I was waiting for the boat to take +me across. I've been wandering about, sleeping where I could. I simply +find myself—here!"</p> + +<p>At this both girls laughed merrily.</p> + +<p>"This is the place of Found Personalities," Margaret Moffatt said, +jumping lightly to the wharf. "Perhaps you'll come to the inn and have +luncheon with us—that is, if you are sure Doctor Ledyard did not send +you here to spy on me."</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen him since I left America. My mother is with me; she's in +a crack of the hills in Italy. She wanted to be alone. Doctor Ledyard +will join us later."</p> + +<p>"Then come to the house. They serve meals on a dangerously poised balcony +over the lake; we curb our appetites for fear our weight may be the one +thing the structure cannot stand. Our old housekeeper waits upon us, but +is in no wise responsible for the food which is often very bad and +lacking in nourishment."</p> + +<p>"You seem to thrive on it." Travers looked at the two before him. "I +wonder just what it is this air and place have done to you?"</p> + +<p>"Tell him, Priscilla."</p> + +<p>"Oh, like you, Doctor Travers, we simply found ourselves—here! That's +all."</p> + +<p>Travers did not leave the inn that night, nor for many days thereafter.</p> + +<p>"Doctor Ledyard will join my mother and me early in August," he +explained; "until then I'm a floating proposition. I wish you'd let me +stay on a while, Miss Moffatt, right here. I want to analyze the food, it +puzzles me. Why just this kind of conglomeration should achieve such +results is interesting. I've gained five pounds in six days."</p> + +<p>"And lost ten years," Margaret broke in. "I never thought of you as +young, Doctor Travers; professional men never do seem youthful; but +<i>here</i> you're rather a good sort."</p> + +<p>And Travers remained, much to the delight of the old housekeeper, who, +with a nurse and a doctor in command, cast all responsibility aside.</p> + +<p>"Young Miss looks well," she confided to the proprietor's wife, who, +fortunately, could understand a word or so of English; "but folks is like +weather: the fairer they seem, the nearer a storm. When a day or a person +looks uncommonly fair—a weather breeder, says I, and generally, nine +times out of ten, I'm right. My young lady is too changed to be +comfortable. It's either a breaking up, or——" But here a shout for +"Mousey," silenced further prophecy.</p> + +<p>The days ran along without cloud or shadow. Quite naturally, perhaps, +Priscilla began to think that a drama of life was being enacted in the +quiet, detached village. They three were always together, always enjoying +the same things, but certainly no man, so she thought, could be with +Margaret Moffatt long without falling at her feet. Gradually to Priscilla +Glenn this girl stood for all that was fine and perfect. In her she saw +all women as women should be. With the adoration she was so ready to give +to that which appealed to her, Priscilla lavished the wealth of her +affection upon Margaret Moffatt. Surely it was because of Margaret that +Doctor Travers stayed on, and became the life of the party. To be sure he +was tact itself in making Priscilla feel at ease; but that only confirmed +her in her belief that he wanted to please Margaret to the uttermost. +Often Priscilla recalled, with keener appreciation, John Boswell's +description of Anton Farwell's conception of friendship. In like manner +Margaret Moffatt claimed for her companion all that justly belonged to +herself. Dispassionately, vicariously, Priscilla learned to know and +admire the man who undoubtedly in time would win her one friend. It was +all beautiful and natural, and in the lovely detachment it grew and grew. +The long walks and drives, the rows upon the lake by sunlight and +moonlight, all conspired to perfect the comradeship. They read together, +sang together—very poorly to be sure—and once, just to vary the charm, +they travelled to a nearby town and danced at a village fête. An odd +thing happened there. Owing to high spirits and a sense of +unconventionality, they entered into the sports with abandon. Travers +even begged a reel with a pretty Swiss maiden, and led her proudly away, +much to Margaret's and Priscilla's delight. Later, the men and women of +the place came forward, and, entering a little ring formed by admiring +friends, performed, separately, the native dances.</p> + +<p>Travers watched Priscilla with a puzzled look in his eyes. She trembled +with excitement; seemed hypnotized by the exhibition, much of which was +delightfully graceful and picturesque. Then, suddenly, to the surprise of +every one, she took advantage of a moment's pause and ran into the ring.</p> + +<p>"Whatever possesses her?" whispered Margaret to Travers; "she looks +bewitched. See! she is—dancing!"</p> + +<p>Travers watched the tall, slim figure in the thin white gown over +which a light scarf, of transparent crimson, floated as the evening +breeze and the girl's motions freed it. At first Priscilla took her steps +falteringly, her head bent as if trying to recall the measure and rhythm; +then with more confidence she swung into the lovely pose and action. With +uplifted eyes and smiling lips, seeming to see something hidden from +others, she bent and glided, curtesied and tripped, this way and that.</p> + +<p>The lookers-on were wild with delight. The beauty of the thing itself, +the willingness of the foreigners to join in the sport, aroused the +temperamental enthusiasm, and the clapping and cheering filled the hall +with noise. Suddenly the musicians dropped their instruments. They were +but human, and, since they could not keep in time with this new and +amazing dance, they drew near to admire.</p> + +<p>"Play!" pleaded Priscilla, past heeding the sensation she was creating. +"The best is yet to come!"</p> + +<p>Carried out of himself, entering now wholly into the adventure, Travers +caught up a violin near him and sent the bow over the strings with a +master touch. He hardly knew what he played; he was himself, carried away +on a wave of enchantment.</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>The word escaped Priscilla like a cry of glad response.</p> + +<p>"Now!"</p> + +<p>They two, the musician and the dancer, seemed alone in the open space. +The flashing eyes, the cheering voices, the clapping hands, even Margaret +Moffatt, pale, puzzled, yet charmed, were obliterated. It was spring time +in the Place Beyond the Winds, and the dance of adoration was in full +swing, while the old tune, never out of time with the graceful, whirling +form, played on and on. And then—the ring melted away, the lights grew +dim, and Priscilla stood still.</p> + +<p>"I'm—I'm tired," faltered she. A hand was laid upon her arm, some one +guided her out of the heated, breathless room; they were alone, she and +he, under wide-spreading trees, and a particularly lovely star was +pulsing overhead.</p> + +<p>"You are crying!" Travers's voice was low and tense. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"It—it was the music! It was like something I had heard, and—and I was +so tired. I was very foolish. Can you, can Margaret, forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive you? Why, you were—I dare not tell you what you were! Here, sit +down. Do not tremble so! Tell me, where did you learn to dance as you +do?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla had dropped upon the rough rustic seat; she did not seem to +notice the hand that rested upon her clasped ones under the thin scarf. +She no longer cried, but the tears shone on her long lashes.</p> + +<p>"I—I never learned. It—it is I, myself. I thought I had grown into +something else, but—I shall always be the same—when I let myself go."</p> + +<p>"Let yourself go? Good heavens! Why not let yourself go—forever?" +Travers's voice shook. "You have brought joy and youth to us all—to me, +who never had youth. What—who are you?" he laughed boyishly. She sat +rigidly erect and turned her sad eyes upon him.</p> + +<p>"I'm Priscilla Glynn—a nurse! And you? Oh! you are Doctor Travers! Can +you not see my beautiful, happy, happy life is ended—must end? Margaret, +you, everything this joyous summer has made me—forget. Soon I am going +back—where there is no dancing!"</p> + +<p>"And—cease to be yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I shall always remember. Not many have had the wonderful +glimpse I have had—not many."</p> + +<p>"I—I will not let you go back! You belong in the light; in love and the +giving of love. You have given me a glimpse of myself—as I should be. I +have stayed in this magic place without a past and a future—for your +sake! I see it now. I love——"</p> + +<p>"Oh! please, please stop. We are both mad, and when to-morrow comes and +the day after, and the day after that, we will both be sorry, and, oh! I +want all my life to—to—be glad because of this night."</p> + +<p>"You shall—remember it—all your life as—your happiest night, if I can +make it so!"</p> + +<p>His face was bent close to hers. For the first time Travers was +overpowered by the charm of woman, and all the pent passion and love of +his life broke bonds like a wild, primeval thing that education and +conventions had never touched.</p> + +<p>"I—I want you! I want you without knowing any more than if you and I had +been born anew in this wonderful life. Look at me! You believe I can +offer you—the one perfect gift a man should offer a woman?"</p> + +<p>She looked long and tenderly in his eyes. She was—going to leave him; +she could afford the truth. She was brave now.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"And I know you to be—what I want. Isn't that enough? Can we not trust +each—for the rest?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if the white hills could shut us forever from the other things."</p> + +<p>"Other things?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the things of to-morrow. Duty, the demands that lie—over the +Alps."</p> + +<p>"I—renounce them all!"</p> + +<p>"But they will not renounce us!"</p> + +<p>Travers felt her slipping from him. A man whose youth has been denied, as +his had, is a puppet in Fate's hands when youth makes its claims.</p> + +<p>"I—mean to have you! Do you hear me? I mean to have you."</p> + +<p>And just then Margaret Moffatt drew near. Calmly, smilingly, she came +like one playing her part in a perfectly arranged drama.</p> + +<p>"You are here? Ready for home? Wasn't it sublime and exactly as it should +be? We are so nice and friendly with our real selves."</p> + +<p>There was no surprise; no suggestion of disapproval. The world in which +they were all playing could have only direct and simple processes. But, +having lived in a past world where her perceptions had been made keen and +vital, Margaret Moffatt understood what she saw. She had noticed every +letting down and abandonment of Travers since he had joined them. She was +too wise not to know the effect of such a woman as Priscilla upon such a +man; such a denied and almost puritanical man as Travers. She knew his +story from her father. An artistic triumph was hers that night. The +splendid elements of primitive justice had been set in motion, and almost +gleefully she wondered what they would do with Richard Travers and +Priscilla Glynn.</p> + +<p>For herself? Well, she had put herself to the test and had come out +clear-visioned and glad to a point of dangerous excitement. Only two or +three mighty things mattered, if one were to gain in the marvellous game. +She meant to hold to them and let the rest go!</p> + +<p>But Travers had not passed through Ledyard's school and come out +untouched. After leaving Priscilla, silent and white, he had gone to his +room and flung himself down upon a low couch by the window. Then his old +self took him in hand while he stubbornly resisted every attack that +reason, as trained by Ledyard, made upon him.</p> + +<p>"Think of—your mother! What has she not done and suffered that you might +stand before the world—a free man? And your profession; your future! +They are all your mother holds to for her peace and joy. And I? Well, I +do not claim anything for myself; but you know the game as well as I. If +you toss to the winds all that has been gained for you, professionally +and socially, you are done for! Your renunciation and restraint, what +have they amounted to, unless you accept them as stepping-stones and +go—on?"</p> + +<p>And then Travers clenched his hands and had his say.</p> + +<p>In that moment his own mother rose clear and radiant beside him and made +her appeal. She pleaded for justice, but she showed mercy. He must not +forget or forego anything that had been gained for him; but he was her +child, the child of her love—unasking, unfettered love—and the passion +that was throbbing in him was pure and instinctive; he must not deny it +or the rest would be shucks! Non-essentials must not hamper him. Alone, +unsought, a strange and compelling force had made him captive. All that +others, and himself, had achieved for him must make holy this simple but +all-powerful desire.</p> + +<p>Then she faded, that poor, little, half-forgotten mother! But she left, +like the fragrance of rare flowers that had been taken from the dim, +moon-lighted room, a memory of happiness and sweetness and content.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + + +<p>By all the deductions of experience the three people in the little inn +should have, in the light of the morning after, been reduced to common +sense; but the day laughed common sense to scorn and fanned the fires of +the previous evening to bright flame.</p> + +<p>"I must write a letter," announced Margaret after breakfast, "a letter so +momentous that it will take me—an hour and a half! But my plans and +yours are all laid. Now, Priscilla, none of your cap and apron look. +You'll do exactly what I tell you to do; and you, too, Doctor Travers."</p> + +<p>"I haven't the slightest intention of disobeying. And as for my cap and +apron, I've burned them!" Priscilla tossed her head.</p> + +<p>Travers looked at her, and her loveliness seemed enhanced in her trim +white linen gown with its broad collar of Irish lace. How magnificent her +throat was! What a perfect woman she was! And <i>what</i> hair!</p> + +<p>"There is a train that leaves here at nine-thirty, a mad little +ramshackle train that goes to The Ghost and back in an hour and a half. +We've all yearned to climb The Ghost, or as much of it as we dared. Now +you two, with Mousey and a servant, are to go on the nine-thirty. I'll +finish my destruction of the social system and catch the eleven o'clock +train. We'll have picnic lunch. They say there's a dreadful cavern at the +base of The Ghost that is corking for picnics, and then we'll explore +until we have to return. Any objections?"</p> + +<p>There were none.</p> + +<p>"Very well! It's nine now! Priscilla, wear the roughest, heaviest things +you've got. You always have your hours of remorse too late. The Ghost +will chill your blood."</p> + +<p>When the little party reached the small station at the mountain foot the +servants started at once to the cavern to build a fire and prepare for +the luncheon.</p> + +<p>"Let us walk a bit up the trail," suggested Travers. "I always feel +like the Englishman who said the views halfway up a mountain are more +enjoyable than those on top. At least, you have life enough left to enjoy +them. This particular trail is a mighty wicked one. There ought to be +guides, for safety. I know the way perfectly; my mother and I once stayed +here some years ago. She meant to come here this summer early, but has +decided to wait until Doctor Ledyard joins us. I feel as if I were taking +the cream off the thing. Will you trust me—Priscilla?"</p> + +<p>There was challenge and command in the use of her name.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely."</p> + +<p>"Come, then! I want you to go first. The rise is easy for a half-mile or +so. I can better watch out for you and catch you—if you make a misstep. +The stones are loose and mischievous; the path is ridiculously near the +edge of things. If one should—now do not get nervous, but if you should +go over, just clutch the bushes, the sturdy little clumps, and nothing +can really happen."</p> + +<p>"I never get nervous in high places. Being used to dead levels, I have +the courage of the ignorant. Doesn't the air make one——"</p> + +<p>"Heady?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I suppose that is it. Heady and—light-hearted."</p> + +<p>Travers had his eyes fixed on the form ahead in its dark blue mountain +skirt and corduroy waist.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would take off your hat," he said.</p> + +<p>Priscilla obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! Will you let me—love you?"</p> + +<p>He noticed a tremor run the length of her body.</p> + +<p>"Is—that in my giving?" Priscilla meant to play just a little longer, +only a little, and then she must make him see that because this sudden +and great thing had come to them both, they must prove themselves worthy +of it by unselfish recognition of deep truths.</p> + +<p>"No. But I would like to have you say—yes! I meant all I said last +evening; you said nothing. I mean to have you, because I love you; +because I know you love me, and because nothing else matters. It's only +fair to warn you. You <i>do</i> love me?"</p> + +<p>"Is it love—when everything else is swept aside?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"All but the longing—for the best?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is love."</p> + +<p>"Then, I love you."</p> + +<p>"On ahead there is a tiny bluff, do not speak again until we reach it. A +strange and wonderful thing came to me there once—years ago. I want to +tell you about it, my beloved!"</p> + +<p>Travers watched her as he spoke. Again that tremor ran through Priscilla.</p> + +<p>It was nearly noon when they stopped, at Travers's word. They had come, +silently, up the trail, only their footsteps and their quicker breathing +breaking the awesome stillness. Their separate thoughts were bringing +them dangerously nearer together, trampling caution, warning, and purpose +beneath their young yearning for the vital meaning of life. When they +faced each other at last it was as if they had indeed been transfigured.</p> + +<p>"Mine!" whispered Travers, stretching out his hands. "You are mine! Do +not struggle."</p> + +<p>Priscilla put her hands in his, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"And now let us sit here. I want you to understand. You will try to +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>All her life Priscilla was to look back on that moment as the first +perfect one of her life. She felt no shame in taking it. It belonged to +her, and she meant to prove herself to him.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if there were a new heaven and a new earth, Priscilla, and +that you and I had just been created—the first man, the first woman. +Dear heart, rest your head, so, against my knee." He was sitting above +her. "Your hair holds all the glory of the sunlight, and how white and +warm your throat is!" His fingers touched it reverently. "Let us cling +to this one hour that has given us to each other. Are you happy?"</p> + +<p>"It means—something more than that—this moment——" Priscilla spoke as +if held by a dream.</p> + +<p>"You are—content?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That is it. I am—content. I shall never ask for anything more, +anything better. I have everything—the world and—and God, has to give."</p> + +<p>"My darling! Now let me tell you. Years ago I came here after a hard +struggle for health. I had never had childhood or boyhood, in the real +sense; but I was well at last! I saw that I was going to have a man's +life, with all that that means, and for months the emotions and cravings, +that generally go to the years of making a child and boy, had been +crowding and pushing me to a sense of having been defrauded, and I meant +to have my turn at last: my joy and pleasure. It seemed just and right to +me that I should taste and revel in all that I had been deprived of. I +had even been deprived of the longing, had not even had the glory of +conquest. I had been such a meaningless creature, I thought I could +afford even to be selfish. I shrank from being <i>different</i>—I had been +forced to in the past—but I meant to make up for lost time and take my +place among my fellows.</p> + +<p>"One morning, just such a morning as this, I found myself alone—here! +Then I had it out with myself. More distinctly than anything had ever +come to me before I realized that life meant one thing, and one thing +only: the biggest fight or the meanest defeat! I knew that every passion +that burned and flayed me was a warhorse that, if controlled, would carry +me safely through the battle; if succumbed to, would trample me under its +relentless feet. This I knew with my brain, while tradition, inclination, +and longing called me—fool! Well, I was given strength to follow my +head; but every year has been a struggle. I found that to be different +meant contempt often, misunderstanding always. Sometimes it has not +seemed worth while; the victories were so lonely and useless; but I +thanked God last night, when I saw your face as you danced, that I could +offer you a love that need not make the pitiful plea for mercy from your +love. Through temptation and the long fight it has always seemed to me +that no man should ask for pure love without the equivalent to offer in +return.</p> + +<p>"Can you understand when I say that this battle of mine has brought me +closer to men and women, with no bitterness in my heart; has left me +free, not to despise them, but to help them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh, yes; all my life I could understand those who—fight. I, too, +have fought and fought."</p> + +<p>Travers's hand was pressing upward the head against his knee so that he +could look in the uplifted eyes.</p> + +<p>"My love! as free man and woman, let us give ourselves to each other!"</p> + +<p>Then he bent and kissed the smiling mouth.</p> + +<p>"Speak to me, my—wife."</p> + +<p>"Yes! But let me think, dear heart. I must speak; the half has only been +told." She moved a bit away from him. Travers let her go with no fear.</p> + +<p>"Now, strange little thing, since you cannot speak in my arms, have your +will!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"There is a to-morrow." The even voice had no strain of pain or sorrow in +it. "And we must not forget that. We have played and played until we have +made ourselves believe—such wonderful things; but to-morrow—we will +wake up and be what we have been made! I have heard, oh! so many people, +tell of your future, your honours. I have seen Doctor Ledyard's eyes upon +you; I know you have a mother who adores you. I do not know your world; I +could not touch your place but to mar it, and, because I love you so—oh! +so absolutely, and because I would want, and must have, glory in my own +love—we must stop playing! We have not"—and now the eyes dimmed—"we +have not played for keeps!"</p> + +<p>"You poor, little girl! How you use the old, foolish arguments, thinking +yourself—wise. Do you imagine I could let you dim the sacred thing that +has come to us—by such idle prating? There are only you and I and—the +future. You darling child, come here!"</p> + +<p>In reaching toward her, Travers's foot pressed too heavily against the +stone upon which she sat; it moved, slipped, and Priscilla escaped his +clutch. Not realizing her danger, she smiled up at him radiantly. She +meant what she had said, but youth could not relinquish its rights +without a struggle, and his eyes were so heavenly kind.</p> + +<p>"My God! Clutch the bushes, Priscilla!"</p> + +<p>"What—is the matter?" But with the question came the knowledge. She was +going down, down, and every effort he made to save her sent her farther +along the awful slope! She held to a nearby bush but uprooted it by the +force with which she gripped it. Faster, faster, with that terrified face +above her!</p> + +<p>"My precious one! Try again! Do not be afraid!"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>And then they both heard the hoarse whistle of the little shuttle train +nearing The Ghost, with Margaret Moffatt on board!</p> + +<p>Travers realized the new danger. Very steep was the grade of the +mountain, and it ended on—the tracks!</p> + +<p>He shut his eyes; he could do no more. Every move he made imperilled the +woman he would give his life to save. The only comfort he knew was that +he, too, was losing, losing. They would be together at the last.</p> + +<p>Priscilla understood also. She looked up and saw him close his eyes; then +fear fled, as it does when the last hope takes it. It would soon be over +for them, and—nothing in all the world could separate them. There was +nothing but him and her! He had seen that; but now she saw it, too. Him +and her! him and her!</p> + +<p>"I—love you so!" she whispered. "I am not afraid. I'm sorry. I would +have given myself to you! I would indeed!"</p> + +<p>She wanted him to know. He opened his eyes and smiled a twisted, hideous +smile.</p> + +<p>"I—meant—to have you." The words came to her faintly. A nearer shriek +of the whistle, and a deafening clang of the bell! Some one at the +throttle of the engine had an inspiration and sent the crazy thing +shooting ahead.</p> + +<p>Then it was past, and upon the tracks over which the car had but just +gone lay Priscilla Glenn quite unconscious!</p> + +<p>Travers came to himself at once, and took her head on his knee where but +a short time ago it had lain so happily.</p> + +<p>"You, Priscilla!" It was Margaret Moffatt who spoke. The train had +stopped; the few passengers had come back to see what had happened.</p> + +<p>"Yes; my God! Yes! Miss Moffatt, will you see if she is dead? I dare not +trust—myself."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was late that night, in Priscilla's room at the inn, that she and +Margaret had their talk.</p> + +<p>Priscilla lay upon her bed weak and bruised, but otherwise safe. Margaret +sat beside her, her hand in Priscilla's.</p> + +<p>"Doctor Travers has pulled himself together at last," she said. "I never +saw a strong man so shattered. And you, dear, you are sure you have told +me the truth—you are not suffering?"</p> + +<p>"No, only a little dazed. That's natural after looking death in the face +for hours and hours while everything slipped away from you—things you +had always thought meant something."</p> + +<p>"Yes, poor girl!"</p> + +<p>"And they—meant nothing. They never do."</p> + +<p>"No. You found that at death's door; I found it at life's. I want to tell +you something, dear, that will make you forget yourself—and think of me. +You are sure you cannot sleep?"</p> + +<p>"I do not want to sleep."</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, I have given myself to love! You can understand. Travers has +just told me—about him and you!"</p> + +<p>A faint colour touched the face on the pillow.</p> + +<p>"It was the telling that brought him around. He's superb, and you're a +daffy little goose, Cilla. Imagine a man like Travers letting a girl like +you slip through his fingers."</p> + +<p>"He did!" weakly interrupted Priscilla.</p> + +<p>"But he followed you right down, and into—hell!"</p> + +<p>"Into life and joy, you mean, Margaret—life!"</p> + +<p>"Well, at any rate, he was with you. It is magnificent to see a man, +or a woman, big enough, brave enough, and sensible enough to sweep the +senseless rubbish of life aside, and get each other! Oh! it's life as God +meant it. Priscilla, the letter I wrote to-day was to—<i>my</i> man. He's as +splendid as yours. I told you once how I—I loved children. I had taken +that love for granted until something happened. A friend of mine +married—one of the girls my people thought was the kind for me to know. +She didn't understand life any more than I did; she just took one of the +men who wore the same label she did. Her child came—a year after; a +horrible little creature—diseased; dreadful—can you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes"—Priscilla had turned toward the girl by her side—"yes, I know +what you mean. I have been a nurse."</p> + +<p>"That was the first time things we should have known—were known by my +friend and me!" Margaret's voice was low and hard.</p> + +<p>"She—she cursed him, her husband—and left him! It was terrible! I was +frightened, more frightened than I had ever been. Everything seemed +tottering around me. I thought—I must die; I dared trust nothing. Just +then—some one told me—he loved me; and I—I had loved him. But I was +more afraid of him than of any one in God's world. I thought I was going +mad, and then—I went to Doctor Ledyard and told him all about it. I just +threw my whole burden of doubt and ignorance upon him—he is such a +<i>good</i> man! Sometimes I weep when I think of him. He was father, friend, +and physician, all in one. He understood. He told me to go away; he got +you for me. He told me to play like a little girl, with only the real and +beautiful things of life; to forget the worries, and he would make sure!</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, he has made sure! My love is safe. I can give myself to my +love and let it have its way with me, and in the beautiful future, our +future, his and mine, little children cannot—curse us by their suffering +and deformity.</p> + +<p>"This <i>must</i> be the heritage a woman should be able to give her children, +or she has no right to her own love. God has been so good to me—he has +not asked for sacrifice; but"—here she spoke fiercely—"I was ready to +sacrifice my love—for I had seen my friend's baby!</p> + +<p>"I had never known God before as I know him now. He came to me with love +and faith and my glorious life. Before, my God was a prayer-book God; a +dead thing that only rustled when we touched him; and now, oh! Cilla, he +is alive and breathing in good men and women, in little children, in all +the beautiful, real things. They did not bury my God, or yours, long ago; +they only set him free for us to find and love and follow."</p> + +<p>They clung to each other in a passion of reverence and happiness, and +then kissed each other good night.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + + +<p>"My girl," said Travers a week later, "how shall it be? May I tell every +one how madly happy I am? May I take you to that little shrine a mile up +the mountain yonder and make you—mine—and then show them all <i>why</i> I +am so happy? Or——"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Or——" Priscilla lay quite contentedly in his arms, her eyes on +the shining outlines of The Ghost.</p> + +<p>"And that means, my sweet?"</p> + +<p>"That we should keep this blessed secret just a little longer—to +ourselves. I feel as if I could not bear to have it explained, defended, +or justified, and all that must follow, my very dear man, when the play +is over and we return to—to school. I shall be glad and ready to do all +this a little later on; proud to have you do it for me, and—we'll face +the music. It is going to be music, dear, I am sure of that. But some +very stern questions will be asked by that sweet mother of yours, and she +shall have her answer. Then Doctor Ledyard, with all the prayer gone from +his eyes, will call me up for judgment and demand to know what right a +nurse, even a white nurse, had to lay hands upon a young physician who +was on the road to glory! It will be hard to answer him; but never mind!"</p> + +<p>"And then, dear lady of mystery, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Why, then I'm going to beckon to you and we'll dance——"</p> + +<p>"Dance, my darling?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dance away and away to a holy place I know, and then I'm going to +tell you the whole story of Priscilla——"</p> + +<p>But at that moment Margaret Moffatt came upon the scene. The miracle of +love had transfigured the girl. She looked, as Travers had said to +Priscilla, like the All Woman: large, fine, and noble, with unashamed +surrender in her splendid eyes.</p> + +<p>"And that is what she is!" Priscilla had replied, "the All Woman. I could +die for her, live for her, do anything for her. For me, she is the first, +the one woman, in all the world."</p> + +<p>"Young devotee, could you, would you, give your—love up for her?" +Travers had asked, and then Priscilla spoke words that Travers remembered +long afterward.</p> + +<p>"I could not give my love up for—that is—I, myself; just as the dance +is—just as my soul is—but I could; yes, I know I could give up—my +happiness for her, if by so doing I could spare her one shadow. Her +glorious nature could reach where mine never could."</p> + +<p>"Yours reaches to me, little girl."</p> + +<p>"But hers—oh! my dear man, hers reaches to—the world. If you knew her +as I know her!"</p> + +<p>But Margaret was whimsical and witchy as she came upon the two in the +small arbour by the lake.</p> + +<p>"Folks," she said, "let us keep our nice little surprises to ourselves +for a while, like miserly creatures. My dear old daddy-boy is fretting +and fussing about me, 'dreading the issue,' as he told Doctor Ledyard, +and behold—I'm going to do exactly what my daddykins desires! And you, +Doctor Richard Travers, you are wanted by your lady mother. Here's a +telegram. The girl in the office always tells what is in a telegram, to +spare shock. And Cilla, my shining-headed chum, you and I are going to +scamper about a bit before we go home. I'd be a miserable defaulter, +indeed, if I did not give you your share of this experience. Oh! I know +you've snatched bits that in no wise were included in the program, but +we're all grafters. I want to play fair. Will you flit over the continent +with me and Mousey, dear little—pal?"</p> + +<p>And three days later they began their trip, while Travers returned to +Helen. It was a charming trip the girls made, but their hearts were +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>In October they were in New York again, and the inevitable happened. +Margaret was returned to her world, and, for the moment, was absorbed. +Priscilla lost sight of her, though she heard constantly from her by +telephone or delicately worded notes.</p> + +<p>A sad occurrence kept Richard Travers abroad. Helen contracted fever and +for weeks lay between life and death. Doctor Ledyard waited until the +danger was past, and then left the two together in Paris, while Helen +recovered, with Travers to watch and care for her.</p> + +<p>The letters that came to Priscilla were all that kept her eyes shining +and her heart singing.</p> + +<p>"I shall go on as usual," she wrote to Richard. "When you come, then +we'll make the wonderful announcement. I see now that we have no right to +our secret alone; but with the ocean between us, it is best."</p> + +<p>During those months Priscilla learned to know Helen Travers through +Travers's letters. Woman-like, she read between the lines and caught a +glimpse of Helen's nobility and simple sweetness. Her loved ones were so +sacred to her that no personal demands could ever cause her to raise +objections. Once she was sure that they she worshipped wanted anything +for their true happiness, her energies were bent to that end.</p> + +<p>"And she will love you, my girl; will learn to depend upon you as I do. +As for Doctor Ledyard, when he is cornered, he is the best soul that ever +drew breath, and mother can bully him into anything."</p> + +<p>It was in February that Priscilla was called up by Doctor Hapgood, a man +of high repute.</p> + +<p>"Are you on duty?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Any immediate engagement?"</p> + +<p>"None until March."</p> + +<p>"I would like to have you take a case of mine that requires tact as well +as efficiency. Can you take it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Report then at 60 West Eighty-first Street this afternoon, at four."</p> + +<p>Priscilla found herself promptly at four o'clock in the waiting-room of a +palatial bachelor apartment, and there Doctor Hapgood joined her.</p> + +<p>"Before we go upstairs," he said, drawing his chair close to Priscilla's +and lowering his voice, "I wish to say to you what, doubtless, there is +no real need of saying. I simply emphasize the necessity. The young man +who requires your services is Clyde Huntter. This means nothing to you, +but it does to many others. He is supposed to be in—Bermuda. You +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Doctor Hapgood."</p> + +<p>"The case is a particularly tragic one, such an one as you may encounter +later on in your career. It demands all your sympathy, encouragement, and +patience. Mr. Huntter is as fine a man, as upright a one, as I know, his +ideals and—and present life are above reproach. He is paying a bitter +debt for youthful and ignorant folly. I believed this impossible, but so +it is. I am thankful to say, however, that he has every reason to hope +that the future, after this, is secure. I have chosen you to care for +him, because I know your ability; have heard of your powers of reticence +and cheerfulness. I depend upon you absolutely."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Doctor Hapgood."</p> + +<p>Priscilla's face had gone deadly white, but never having heard Huntter's +name before, she was impersonal in her feeling.</p> + +<p>"I will do my best."</p> + +<p>The days following were days of strain and torture to Priscilla. Her +patient was a man who appealed to her strongly, pathetically. There were +hours when his gloom and depression would almost drag her along to the +depths into which he sank; then again he would beg her to pardon him for +his brutal thoughtlessness.</p> + +<p>"Sit there, Miss Glynn," he said one day. "The sunshine is rather +niggardly, but when it rests on your hair—it lasts longer."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor hair!"</p> + +<p>"Poor? It looks like a gold mine." Then: "I wish you would read to me. +No; nothing recent or superficial. Something from the old, cast-iron +writers who knew how to use thumb screws and rack. There's something +wholesome in them; something you buck up against. They make you writhe +and groan, but they leave you with the thought that—you've lived through +something."</p> + +<p>Again, another day, after a bad night:</p> + +<p>"I think you'd better go into the next room, Miss Glynn, and take a nap. +I'd feel less brutally selfish if I could see your eyes calmer. Besides, +being shut away here from all I'm dying to have makes an idiot of me. If +you stay any longer, looking at me with those queer eyes of yours, I may +break down and tell you all about it, just for the dangerous joy of +easing my own soul by dumping a load on yours. Good God! Miss Glynn, +such women as you should not be nurses; it isn't fair. I'd give—let me +see—well, I'd give six months of my life—since Hapgood says I stand a +fair chance for ninety years—to talk to you, man to woman, and get your +point of view—about something. There are moments, after a bad night, +when I think you women haven't had all they say you should have had. We +men have been too blindly sure we could play your game as well as our +own. Run now! If you stay another minute I'll regret it, and so will +you."</p> + +<p>"Shall I shake your pillow before I go, Mr. Huntter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Thank you. You manage to shake more whim-whams out of the creases +than you know."</p> + +<p>He stayed her by a wistful, longing, and half-boyish smile.</p> + +<p>"Say," he said, "you see you didn't run quick enough, and now I'm going +to ask you something. You must have seen a good deal of women as well +as men in your calling."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have."</p> + +<p>"Seen them with their masks off?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What does love count for in the big hours of life? Does it stand +everything, anything?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla felt her throat contract. She longed to say something that +would reach Huntter without arousing his suspicions.</p> + +<p>"No; love—at least, woman's love, doesn't stand everything—always."</p> + +<p>"What doesn't it stand? The essence, I mean."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't stand unfair play! Women understand fair play and for +it would die. They may not say much, but—they never forgive +being—tricked."</p> + +<p>"Oh! of course. How graphic you are, Miss Glynn. You sound as if we +were discussing a game of—of tennis or bridge. Gentlemen do not trick +ladies." He frowned a bit.</p> + +<p>"Don't they, Mr. Huntter?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not! What I meant was this: You seem, for a trained woman, +very human and—and—well, what shall I say?—observing and rather +a—thoroughbred. If <i>you</i> loved, now, loved really, is there anything you +would not forgive a man? That is, if his love for you was the biggest +thing in his life?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla stood quite still and looked at the pale, handsome face on the +pillow.</p> + +<p>"My love—yes; my love could and would forgive anything, if it related +only to—to—the man I loved and—me!"</p> + +<p>The frown deepened on Huntter's face; he turned uneasily.</p> + +<p>"After all," he muttered, "a man and woman see things so differently. +There is no use!"</p> + +<p>"I wonder—if things would not seem plainer if they saw them—together?"</p> + +<p>But Priscilla saw she had gone too far. The whimsical mood in Huntter had +passed. He was himself again, and she was his nurse—his nurse who knew +too much! More fretfully than he had ever spoken to her, he said:</p> + +<p>"I wish to be alone, Miss Glynn."</p> + +<p>Priscilla passed out, leaving the door between the rooms ajar, and lay +down upon the couch.</p> + +<p>To Doctor Hapgood she was a machine merely; an easy-running one, a +dependable one, but none the less a machine. To Huntter, shut away from +society, gregarious, friendly, and kindly, she had meant much more. Her +recent experience abroad, with all the exquisite touches of human +interest and uplift, had left her peculiarly sensitive to her present +environment.</p> + +<p>She liked the man in the room next her. There was much that was noble and +fine about him, but he was a type that had never entered her life before, +and often, by his kindliest word and gesture, drew her attention to a +yawning space between them. She was at her ease, perfectly so, when near +him, but she knew it was because of the distance that separated them. +Still, she was confronted by a certain grim fact, and that ugly knowledge +held him and her together. By some strange process of reason she wanted +him to live up to the best in him. There were two markedly different +sides of his nature; she trembled before one; before the other she gave +homage as she did to Travers, to John Boswell, and Master Farwell.</p> + +<p>The day before, Huntter had had a long talk with Doctor Hapgood while she +was off duty. That conversation had doubtlessly caused the bad night; she +wondered about it now. It had evidently upset Huntter a good deal.</p> + +<p>Then Priscilla, losing consciousness gradually, thought of Travers, of +Margaret Moffatt, who believed her to be out of the city. She smiled +happily as she relived her blessed memories of good men and women. They +justified and sanctified life, love, and happiness, and they made it +possible for her, poor, struggling, little white nurse as she was, with +all her professional knowledge, to trust and sympathize, and faithfully +serve.</p> + +<p>She must have slept deeply, for it took her a full moment to realize that +some one in the next room was talking and—saying things!</p> + +<p>"No, she's asleep, Huntter. She looks worn out. We must get a night +nurse. Well, I have only this to say: God knows I pity you, but my duty +compels me to say that—you should not marry! The chances are about even; +but—you shouldn't take the risk."</p> + +<p>A groan brought Priscilla to her feet, alert and quivering. Like a sudden +and blinding shock she understood, what seemed to her, a whole life +history. She stumbled to the door and faced Dr. Hapgood, hat in hand, +keen-eyed, but detached.</p> + +<p>"You slept—heavily?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Doctor Hapgood."</p> + +<p>"I am going to send a night nurse to relieve you. When did you say your +next engagement began?"</p> + +<p>"March fifth."</p> + +<p>"Well, you will need a week to recuperate. Make your plans accordingly. +Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Did he suspect? Did he warn her? But his next words were kindness alone.</p> + +<p>"There should have been two nurses all along. One forgets your youth in +your efficiency. Good morning."</p> + +<p>When Priscilla stood beside Huntter again his wan face, close-shut eyes, +and grim mouth almost frightened her.</p> + +<p>"I want to sleep," he said briefly. "Draw down the shades."</p> + +<p>The night nurse became a staple joke between her and Huntter.</p> + +<p>"Lord!" he exclaimed one day as Priscilla entered; "you're like the +morning: clear, fresh, and hopeful. Do you know, that to escape the +nightmare that haunts my chamber after you go, I have to play sleep even +if I'm dying with thirst or blue devils? She's religious! Think of a +nurse with religion that she feels compelled to share with a sick man! +I'm going to get up to-day, Miss Glynn. I've bullied Hapgood into giving +permission, and I've done him one better. I'm going to have a visitor! +I'm back from Bermuda, you know. After you've fixed me up—isn't it a +glorious day?—open the windows, and—I've ordered a lot of flowers. +Put them in those brass bowls. My visitor is a lady. She likes yellow +roses. By the way, Miss Glynn, Doctor Hapgood tells me that you've been +in—Bermuda, too? Thorough old disciplinarian he! You must have been +lonely. And you leave me next week? I want to thank you. I shall thank +you ceremoniously every time you enter after this. You've been—a good +nurse and a—good friend. I couldn't say more, now could I?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Huntter. And you've been—a very brave man! I know you will +always be that, and make light of it. I rather like the half-joking way +you do your kindest things. Here are the flowers! Oh, what beauties!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla turned from helping Huntter and began arranging the glorious +mass of roses in the brass bowls.</p> + +<p>"What time is it, Miss Glynn?"</p> + +<p>"Eleven o'clock."</p> + +<p>"And my friend is due at eleven-thirty. She will be here on the minute. +I feel like a boy, Miss Glynn. One gets the doldrums being alone and +convalescing. How the grim devils catch and hold you while they try to +distort life! I must have been a sad trial to you, but I'm myself again. +Tell me, honest true, Miss Glynn, just how have I come out in your +estimation? A man is no hero to his valet. What is he to his trained +nurse?"</p> + +<p>"You have been very patient and considerate." Priscilla's back was turned +to Huntter; her face was quivering.</p> + +<p>"Negative virtues! Had I been a brute you would have gone. I might have +had the night nurse for twenty-four hours. I dared not run the risk of +letting you go."</p> + +<p>"I've come out pretty well in <i>your</i> estimation? That's a feather in my +nice, white cap," she said.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why I care what you think of me?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know, Mr. Huntter, except that we all care for the good opinion +of those who wish us well."</p> + +<p>"You wish me well?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart."</p> + +<p>"I'd like"—Huntter turned his face toward the window and the glorious +winter day—"I'd like to be worthy of every well-wisher. I feel quite the +good boy this morning. I've been—well, I've been rather up against it, I +fear, and a trial to you, for all that you say to the contrary; but I am +going to make amends to you—and the world! Now, when my friend comes, +you won't mind if I ask you to leave us alone for a few moments? I can +call you when I need you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Huntter."</p> + +<p>"The lady is—you may have guessed—my fiancée. I have important things +to say to her, and——"</p> + +<p>Priscilla's heart beat madly. She felt she was near a deeper tragedy than +any that had ever entered her life. And just then, as the clock struck +the half hour, came a tap on the door:</p> + +<p>"Come!" cried Huntter, in a tone of joy; "Come!" And in burst Margaret +Moffatt!</p> + +<p>She did not notice the rigid figure by the bowl of flowers; her radiant +face was fixed upon Huntter, and she ran toward him with outstretched +arms.</p> + +<p>"My beloved!" she whispered. "Oh! my dear, my dear! How ill you have +been! They did not tell me. I shall never forgive them. When did you +get back from Bermuda?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla slipped from the room and closed the door noiselessly behind +her, but not before she had seen Margaret Moffatt sink into Huntter's +arms; not before she heard the sigh of perfect content that escaped her.</p> + +<p>Alone in the anteroom, the hideous truth flayed Priscilla into suffering +and clear vision.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?" she moaned, clasping her hands and swaying back and +forth. All the burden and responsibility of the world seemed cast upon +her. Then reason asserted itself.</p> + +<p>"He will tell her! He is telling her now! Killing her love—killing her! +Oh, my God!"</p> + +<p>Then she shrank from the thought that she would, in a few moments, have +to face her friend! How could she, when she remembered that holy night of +confession in the little Swiss village? Again she moaned, "Oh! my God!" +But she was spared that scene. Moments, though they seemed ages, passed, +and then Huntter called:</p> + +<p>"Miss Glynn!"</p> + +<p>She hardly recognized his voice. It was—triumphant, thrilling. It rang +boldly, commandingly. When she entered, Huntter was alone. Gone was the +guest; gone the mass of golden roses. Huntter turned a face glowing and +confident to her.</p> + +<p>"Just because you are you, Miss Glynn, and because I'm the happiest man +in New York, I want you to congratulate me. That was Miss Moffatt. She +and I are to marry—in the spring."</p> + +<p>"Did you—mention my name to her?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla's haggard face at last attracted the man.</p> + +<p>"No. I was inhumanly selfish. You must forgive me. I meant to tell her of +your faithful care; I meant to have you meet her. I forgot."</p> + +<p>"Never mention—me to her! She is my—one friend in all the world; my one +woman friend."</p> + +<p>They faced each other blankly, fiercely. Then:</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Miss Glynn!" and Huntter—laughed!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + + +<p>The week of recuperation Doctor Hapgood recommended was one of prolonged +torture to Priscilla Glenn. Thinking of it afterward, she realized that +it was the Gethsemane of her life—the hour when, forsaken by all, she +fought her bitter fight.</p> + +<p>The drift of the ages confronted her. Her own insignificance, her +humbleness, accentuated and betrayed her. Who would listen? How dared she +speak! Who would heed her?</p> + +<p>One, and one only. Margaret Moffatt!</p> + +<p>From her Priscilla shrank and hid until she could gain courage to go +and—by saving her, kill her! Yes, it meant that. The killing of the +beautiful All Woman, as Travers had called her. After the telling there +would be only the shadow of the splendid creature that God had meant to +be so happy, if only the wrong of the world had not come between!</p> + +<p>There were moments when, worn by struggle and wakeful nights, Priscilla +felt incapable of sane thought.</p> + +<p>Why should she interfere, she asked herself. Professional silence was her +only course. And—there was the chance—the chance! Against it stood, +pleading, Margaret's radiant love and Huntter's strength and devotion.</p> + +<p>Who could blame her if she—forgot? But oh! how they would curse her if +she spoke! They might not believe; they might ruin her!</p> + +<p>Then faith laid its commanding touch upon her spirit. It had been given +her to know a woman who, for high principles and all the sacred future, +was prepared to sacrifice her love if needs must be!</p> + +<p>They two, Margaret of the high-soul, and she, Priscilla Glenn of the +understanding devotion, seemed to stand apart and alone, each, in her +way, called upon to testify and act.</p> + +<p>"It must be done!" moaned Priscilla; "she must know and—decide! But how? +how?"</p> + +<p>John Boswell and Master Farwell were gone to the In-Place. The sanctuary +overlooking the river was closed. There was no one, no place, to which +Priscilla could go for comfort and advice, and her secret and her duty +left her no peace or rest.</p> + +<p>She had taken a tiny suite in a family hotel. The rooms had the comfort +needed for her physical wants, but she tossed on the bed nights and slept +brokenly. She ate poorly and grew very thin, very pale. She walked, days, +until her body cried out for mercy. She cancelled her engagement, for she +was unfitted for service, and intuitively she knew that, for her, a great +change was near.</p> + +<p>When she was weak from weariness and lonely to the verge of exhaustion, +she thought of Kenmore—not Travers—with positive yearning. The woman +of her, madly defending, or about to defend, woman, excluded even her own +love and her own man. It was sex against sex; the world's injustice +against all that woman held sacred! If Margaret were to be sacrificed, so +was she, for she blindly felt that Travers would not uphold her! How +could he when tradition held him captive? How could he when his oath +bound him like a slave? Doctor Hapgood had done his part, had spoken his +word—to man! But that was not enough. Man had flaunted it, was willing +to take—the chance without giving the woman intelligent choice. Oh! it +was cruel, it was unjust, and it must be defied. She and Margaret must +stand side by side, or life never again would taste sweet and pure!</p> + +<p>Priscilla had not heard from Travers in ten days, and this added to her +sense of desolation. Then, one evening, coming in from a long tramp in +the park, snow covered and bedraggled, she faced him in her own little +parlour!</p> + +<p>"My blessed child!" cried he, rushing toward her. "What have you been +doing to yourself?"</p> + +<p>She was in his arms; his hands were taking off her snow-wet coat and hat. +He was whispering to her his love and gladness while he placed her in a +chair and lighted the tiny gas log in the grate.</p> + +<p>"It's a wicked shame!" he said laughingly; "but it will have to do. Now +then, confess!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I have longed so for you! I have been—mad!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla tried to smile, but collapsed miserably.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you have eaten a morsel since——" Travers glared at her +ferociously.</p> + +<p>"Since I—I was in Switzerland." The sob aroused Travers to the girl's +condition.</p> + +<p>"You poor little tyke!" he said. "Now lean back and do as you're told. +I'm going to ring for food. Just plain, homely food. I'm as hungry as a +bear myself. I came to you from the vessel. I sent mother home in a cab. +I had to see you. We'll eat—play; and then, my precious one, we'll talk +business."</p> + +<p>"How I have wanted you! needed you!" Again the pitiful wail.</p> + +<p>"Now behave, child! When the waiter comes we must be as staid as Darby +and Joan. You poor little girl! Heavens! how big your eyes are, and how +frightened! Come in! Yes. This is the order; serve it here."</p> + +<p>The waiter took the order wrapped in a good-sized bill, and departed on +willing feet.</p> + +<p>"Your hair is about all that's familiar; longing for me couldn't take the +shine from that!" Travers kissed it.</p> + +<p>"I see my next case," he laughed. "To get you in shape will be quite an +achievement. We both need—play. We thrive on that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, my dear; but I have forgotten how!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! Here's the food. Put the table near the grate"—this to the +man—"things smoking hot; that's good. The wine, please. Thanks! Miss +Glynn, to your health!"</p> + +<p>How Travers managed it no one could tell, but his own unfettered joy +drove doubt and care from the little room. Priscilla, warmed and +comforted, laughed and responded, and the meal was a merry one. But it +was over at last, and the grim spectre stalked once more. Travers noticed +the haunted look in the eyes following his every movement, and took +warning. Something was seriously wrong, that was evident; but he had +boundless faith in his love and power to drive the cloud away. After the +room was cleared of dishes and the grateful waiter, Travers attacked the +shadow at once.</p> + +<p>He drew a stool to Priscilla's chair and flung his long body beside her.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said, with wonderful tenderness, "let me begin my life work at +once, my darling. You are troubled; I am here to bear it all—for you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Will you bear—half, dear heart?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that is better. We need not waste words, my tired little girl. +Out with the worst and then—you and I are going to—my mother!"</p> + +<p>"Your—mother?"</p> + +<p>"My mother! God bless her! You know she came near slipping away. She will +need and love you more than ever."</p> + +<p>"Oh! how good it sounds! Mother! Oh, my love, my love! I've had so little +and I've wanted so much! Your mother!"</p> + +<p>"She'll be yours, too, Priscilla. But hurry, child! Just the bare +structure; my love will fill in the rest."</p> + +<p>"Do not look up at me, dear man! So, let me rest my face on your head. +Can you hear me—if I whisper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It's about Margaret—Margaret Moffatt."</p> + +<p>"The All Woman, the happiest creature, next to what you're going to be, +in all God's world?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"No? Priscilla, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Do not move. Please do not look up. She is—engaged to—to Clyde +Huntter!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I did not know; she never mentioned his name. While we played, names did +not matter—his, mine, no one's." An hysterical gasp caused Travers to +start.</p> + +<p>"No, please keep your face turned. I must tell you in my way. I have just +taken care of—Mr. Huntter. He is not—fit to marry any woman—he cannot +marry—Margaret! Doctor Hapgood told him, but—he—means to marry! She +came to see him; she did not see me; she does not know; but she <i>must</i> +know!" fiercely; "she must know! That is the one thing above all else +that would matter to her; she told me so! She does not live for the—the +now; she was made for—for bigger things!"</p> + +<p>"My God!" Travers was on his feet, and he dragged Priscilla with him. He +held her close by her wrists and searched her white, agonized face. Truth +and stern purpose were blazoned on it. She had never looked so beautiful, +so noble, or so—menacing.</p> + +<p>"You heard Doctor Hapgood say that?"</p> + +<p>"I did."</p> + +<p>"In your presence?"</p> + +<p>"No." Then she described the little scene graphically.</p> + +<p>"But Ledyard——" Then he paused. Ledyard's confidence must be sacred to +him.</p> + +<p>"And Huntter—Huntter knows that you know; does he know that you are +Margaret's friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And—he trusts you?"</p> + +<p>"He thinks I do not count, but I do—with Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, this is no work for you, poor child!"</p> + +<p>"It is—hers—and mine, and God's!" determinedly.</p> + +<p>"Darling, you are overwrought. You must trust me. You know what I think +of such things; you can safely leave this to me. Ledyard is Huntter's +physician. Why he called Hapgood in, I do not know. I will go to Ledyard. +Can you not see—that they would not believe—you?"</p> + +<p>"Margaret will!"</p> + +<p>"But her father! You do not understand, my precious. You dear, little, +unworldly soul! Margaret Moffatt's marriage means a ninth wonder. Any +meddling with that would have to be sifted to the dregs. And when they +reached you, my own girl, they would grind you to atoms!"</p> + +<p>"Not—Margaret!"</p> + +<p>Priscilla drew herself away from the straining hands. She was quite calm +now and terribly earnest.</p> + +<p>"When all's told, it is Margaret and I—and God!"</p> + +<p>"No. There are others, and other things. All the world's forces are +against you."</p> + +<p>"No, they are not! They are turning with me. I feel them; I feel them. +I am not afraid." Then she took command, while Travers stood amazed. She +put her hands on his shoulders and held him so before the bar of her +crude, woman-judgment.</p> + +<p>"Answer me, my beloved! You believe—what I have told you?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"You know Doctor Hapgood will do no more?"</p> + +<p>"He—cannot."</p> + +<p>"If you go to Doctor Ledyard—and he knows and believes—what will he +do?"</p> + +<p>"He has been Huntter's physician for years. If he has been mistaken, he +will go to Huntter."</p> + +<p>"Go to—Huntter! And what then? Suppose Mr. Huntter—still takes the +chance?"</p> + +<p>"Ledyard will—he will forbid it!"</p> + +<p>"And what good will that do?" A pitiful bitterness crept into Priscilla's +voice; her lips quivered.</p> + +<p>"It is all Huntter! Huntter! All men! men! and there stands my +dear—alone! No one goes to her to let—<i>her</i> choose; no one but me! +Don't you see what I mean? Oh! my love, my love! My good, good man, can +you leave her there in ignorance, all of you? Through the ages she has +not had her say—about the chance, and that is why——"</p> + +<p>Priscilla paused, choked by rising passion.</p> + +<p>"Little girl, listen! What do you mean?" Travers was genuinely alarmed +and anxious.</p> + +<p>"I mean"—the white, set face looked like an avenger's, not a +passionately loving woman's—"I mean—that because women have never had +an opportunity to know and to choose, you and I, and all people like us, +stand helpless with our own great heaven-sent love at peril!"</p> + +<p>"At peril! Oh, my dear girl!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, at peril. We do not know what to do, where to turn. You see the +great injustice clearly as I do; but you—all men have tried to right it +by themselves, in their way, while all women, through all the ages, have +stood aside and tried to think they were doing God's will when they +accepted—your best; your <i>half</i> best! Now, oh! now something—I think it +is God calling loud to them—is waking them up. They know—you cannot do +this thing alone; it is their duty, too—they must help you, for, +oh!"—Priscilla leaned toward him with tear-blinded eyes and pleading +hands—"For the sake of the—the little children of the world. Oh! men +are fathers, good fathers, but they have forgotten the part mothers must +take! We women cannot leave it all to you. It is wicked, wicked for women +to try! There is something mightier than our love—we are learning that!"</p> + +<p>Travers took her in his arms. She was weeping miserably. His heart +yearned over her, for he feared she was feeling, as women sometimes did, +the awful weight of injustice men had unconsciously, often in deepest +love, laid upon them.</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, you trust me; trust my love?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You believe me when I say that I see this—as you do—but that we only +differ as to methods?"</p> + +<p>"I—I hope I see that and believe it."</p> + +<p>"Then"—and here Travers did his poor, blind part to lay another straw +upon the drift of burden—"leave this—to me. I know better than you do +the end of any such mad course as you, in your affection and sense of +wrong, might take. Little girl, let me try to show you. Suppose you went +to Margaret Moffatt. You know her proud, sensitive nature; her loyalty +and absolute frankness. After the shock and torture she would go to her +father with the truth—for she would believe you—and announce her +unwillingness—I am sure, even though her heart broke, she would do +this—to marry Huntter. Then the matter would lie among men; men with the +traditional viewpoint; men with much, much at stake. If Huntter has, as +you say, taken the chance, in his love for Margaret—and he does love +her, poor devil!—he will defend himself and his position."</p> + +<p>"How?" Priscilla was regaining her calm; she raised her head and faced +Travers from the circle of his arms.</p> + +<p>"He will—send Moffatt to—to—Hapgood."</p> + +<p>"And he—what will he do?"</p> + +<p>"What does the priest do when the secrets of the confessional are +attacked?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes—but then?"</p> + +<p>"Then—oh! my precious girl! Can you not see? You will come into focus. +You, my love, my wife, but, nevertheless, a woman! a trained nurse! +Hapgood would flay you alive, not because he has anything against you, +but professional honour and discipline would be at stake. Between such a +man as Hapgood and—Priscilla Glynn—oh! can you not see my dear, dear +girl?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I begin to see. And—I see I dare not trust even you!" The hard +note in Priscilla's voice hurt Travers cruelly. "And—you, you and Doctor +Ledyard—how would you stand?" she asked faintly.</p> + +<p>Travers held her at arm's length, and his face turned ashen gray.</p> + +<p>"Besides being men, we, too, are physicians!" he said. "Brutal as this +sounds, it is truth!"</p> + +<p>The light burned dangerously in Priscilla's eyes.</p> + +<p>"When you are physicians—you are <i>not</i> men!" she panted, and suddenly, +by a sharp stab of memory, Ledyard's words, back in the boyhood days at +Kenmore, stung Travers. They were like an echo in his brain.</p> + +<p>"You—you of all women, cannot say that and mean it, my darling!" he +cried, and tried to draw her to him. She resisted.</p> + +<p>"Our love, the one sacred thing of our very own," he pleaded, "is in +peril." He saw it now. "Can you not see? Even if it is woman against +woman, what right have you, Priscilla, to cloud and hurt our love?"</p> + +<p>"It is not—woman against woman—any more." The words came sweetly, +almost joyously; something like renunciation tinged them. "It is woman +<i>for</i> woman until men will take us by the hands, trustingly, faithfully, +and work with us for what belongs equally to us both!"</p> + +<p>The radiance of the uplifted eyes frightened Travers. So might she look, +he thought, had she passed through death and come out victorious.</p> + +<p>"Now, just for a time," the tense, thrilling voice went on, "she and +I—women—must stand alone, and do our best as we see it. It is no good +leaving it to—to any man. I see that! And our love, yours and mine! Oh! +dear man of my heart, that can never die or be hurt. It is yours, mine! +God gave it. God will not take it away. God will not take Margaret's +either. She will understand, and, even alone, far, far from <i>her</i> love, +she will be true, as I will be. That is what it means to us!" Then she +paused and smiled at Travers as across a widening chasm.</p> + +<p>"I—am going now!"</p> + +<p>"Going? My beloved—going—where?"</p> + +<p>"To Margaret."</p> + +<p>"You—dare not! You shall not! You are—mad!"</p> + +<p>"No. I am—going, because, as things are, I cannot—trust you, even you! +That is our penalty for the world's wrong. Long, long ago some one—oh! +it was back in the days when I did not know what life meant—some one +told me—never to let any one kill my ideal! No one ever has! It goes on +before, leading and beckoning. I must follow. I do not know where he is, +he who told me, but I know, as sure as I know that I shall always love +you, that he is following <i>his</i> ideal, and living true and sure. Good +night."</p> + +<p>Unable to think or act, Travers saw Priscilla take up her still damp coat +and hat. Like a man in a nightmare he saw her turn a deadly white face +upon him, and then the door closed and he was alone in her little room!</p> + +<p>He looked about, dazed and emotionless. He felt <i>her</i> in every touch +of the lonely place; her books, her little pictures, herself! Some women +are like that: they leave themselves in the presence of them they +love—forever!</p> + +<p>"Kill her ideal!" The words rang in the empty corners of his heart and +mind. "Somewhere he is following his ideal, and living true and sure!"</p> + +<p>Unconsciously, as men do in an hour of stress, Travers turned to action. +Presently he found himself setting the tiny room in order as one does +after a dear one has departed, or a spirit taken its flight. And while he +moved about his reason was slowly readjusting itself, and he felt +poignantly his impotency, his inability to use even his love for +dominance. Being a just and honest man, he could not deny what Priscilla +had said; truth rang in every sentence, chimed in with the minor notes of +his life. No thought of following or staying her entered his mind; she +had set about her business, woman's business, and, to the man's excited +fancy, he seemed to see her pressing forward to the doing of that to +which her soul called her. Then it was her beautiful shining hair he +remembered, and his passion cried out for its own.</p> + +<p>"This comes," he fiercely cried, setting his teeth hard, "of our leaving +them behind—our women! Through the ages their place has been beside us +as we fought every foe of the race. We set them aside in our folly, and +now"—he bowed his head upon his folded arms—"and now they are waking up +and demanding only what is theirs!"</p> + +<p>A specimen of the new man was Travers, but inheritance, and Ledyard's +teaching, had left their seal upon him. Bowed in Priscilla's little room +he tried to see his way, but for a time he reasoned with Ledyard's words +ringing in his ears. Had he not gone over this with his friend and +partner many a time?</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know the cursed evil, know its power and danger! Yes, it +threatens—the race, but it has its roots in the ages; it must be +tackled cautiously. If we take the stand you suggest"—for Travers had +put forth his violent, new opposition—"what will happen? The quacks and +money-making sharks will get the upper hand. Do you think men would come +to us if exposure faced them? It's the devil, my boy; but of the two +evils this, God knows, is the least. We must do what we can; work for +a scientific and moral redemption, but never play the game like +fools."—"But the women," Travers had put in feverishly, "the +women!"—"Spare me, boy! The women have clutched the heart of me—always. +The women and the—the babies. I've used them to flay many men into +remorse and better living. I am thinking of them, as God hears me, when I +take the course I do!"</p> + +<p>And so Travers suffered and groaned in the small, deserted room.</p> + +<p>Above and beyond Ledyard's reasoning stood two desolate figures. They +seemed to represent all women: his Priscilla and Margaret Moffatt! One, +the crude child of nature with her gleam undimmed, leading her forth +unhampered, though love and suffering blocked her way; the other, the +daughter of ages of refinement and culture, who had heard the call of the +future in her big woman-heart and could leave all else for the sake of +the crown she might never wear, but which, with God's help, she would +never defile.</p> + +<p>On, on, they two went before Travers's aching eyes. The way before them +was shining, or was it the light of Priscilla's hair? They were leaving +him, all men, in the dark! It was to seek the light, or——And then +Travers got up and left the room with bowed head, like one turning his +back upon the dead.</p> + +<p>He went to Ledyard at once, and found that cheerful gentleman awaiting +him.</p> + +<p>"At last!" he cried. "Helen telephoned at seven. She thought you were on +your way here. Did you get lost?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Dick? You look as if you had seen a ghost."</p> + +<p>"I have. An army of them."</p> + +<p>"Are you—ill?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, boy. Here, take a swallow of wine. You're used up. Now then!"</p> + +<p>"Doctor Ledyard, you were wrong—about Huntter! You remember what you +told me, before Margaret Moffatt announced her engagement?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." Ledyard poured himself a glass of wine and walked to his chair +across the room.</p> + +<p>"You were wrong; he is not what you think."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? I haven't seen Huntter for—for a year or more. I took +care, sacred care, though, to—to trace him from the time he first came +to me, more than ten years ago. No straighter, more honourable man +breathes than he. He was one of the victims of ignorance and crooked +reasoning, but, thank God! he was spared the worst."</p> + +<p>"He was—not."</p> + +<p>"Dick, in God's name, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Hapgood was called in. Huntter has not been in Bermuda; he has been +right here in New York, under Hapgood's care."</p> + +<p>"And Hapgood—told you?"</p> + +<p>A purplish flush dyed Ledyard's face.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Who, then? No sidetracking, Dick. Who?"</p> + +<p>"The—the nurse."</p> + +<p>"She-devil! Fell in love with her patient? I've struck that kind——"</p> + +<p>"Stop!"</p> + +<p>Both men were on their feet and glaring at each other.</p> + +<p>"You are speaking of my future—wife!"</p> + +<p>Ledyard loosened his collar and—laughed!</p> + +<p>"You're mad!" he said faintly, "or a damned fool!"</p> + +<p>"I'm neither. I am engaged to marry Priscilla Glynn; have been since the +summer. I meant to tell you and mother to-night. I went to her from the +vessel. Priscilla Glynn took care of Huntter without knowing of his +connection in the Moffatt affair. Above all else in the world"—Travers's +voice shook—"she adores Margaret Moffatt, knows her intimately, and +wishes, blindly, to serve her as she understands her. There are such +women, you know, and they are becoming more numerous. She has gone +to—tell Margaret Moffatt."</p> + +<p>"Gone?" Ledyard reeled back a step. "And you permitted that?"</p> + +<p>"I had no choice. You do not know—my—my—well, Miss Glynn."</p> + +<p>"Not know her? The young fiend! Not know her? I remember her well. I +might have known that no good could come from her. But—we can crush her, +the young idiot! I do not envy you your fiancée, Dick."</p> + +<p>The telephone rang sharply and Ledyard took up the receiver with +trembling hand.</p> + +<p>"It's your mother," he said; "you had better speak for yourself."</p> + +<p>"So you are there, Dick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, mother."</p> + +<p>"There was a message just now. Such a peculiar one. I thought you had +better have it at once. It was only this: 'She knows' and a 'good-bye.'"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, mother. I understand."</p> + +<p>Ledyard watched the unflinching face and noted the even voice. He was so +near he had caught Helen's words.</p> + +<p>"And that is all, mother?"</p> + +<p>"All, dear."</p> + +<p>"I'll be home soon. Good night."</p> + +<p>Then he looked up at Ledyard, and the older man's face softened.</p> + +<p>"You'll find this sort of thing is a devil of a jigsaw. It cuts in all +directions," he said, laying his hand on Travers's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Yes, doesn't it? But, Doctor Ledyard, I want to tell you something. +She's right—that girl of mine, and Margaret Moffatt, too—and you know +it as well as I do! If I can, I'm going to have my love and my woman; but +even if I go empty hearted to my grave I shall know—they are right! +Besides being women, and our loves, they are human beings, and they are +beginning to find it out. The way may lead through hell, but it ends +in——"</p> + +<p>"What?" Ledyard breathed; his eyes fixed on the stern young face.</p> + +<p>"In understanding. It leads to the responsibility all women must take. +Good night, old friend."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + + +<p>Priscilla had gone straight from Margaret Moffatt's to her own little +apartment. She had no sense of suffering; no sensation at all. She must +pack and get away! And like a dead thing she set to work, although it was +midnight and she had been so weary before; and then she smiled +quiveringly:</p> + +<p>"Before!"</p> + +<p>She stood and stretched out her arms to the empty space where Travers had +been.</p> + +<p>"Oh! my dear, dear man!" she moaned. "My beloved!"</p> + +<p>She had set the spark to the powder; by to-morrow the devastation would +be complete. That, she knew full well. And he—the man she loved above +all else in life—in order to escape must seek safety with those others! +All those others—men! men! men! Only she and Margaret, suffering and +alone, would stand in the ruins. But from those ruins! Her eyes shone as +with a vision of what must be.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could tell you—all about it!" the weak, human need called to +the absent love. The whispered words brought comfort; even his memory was +a stronghold. It always would be, even when she was far away in her +In-Place, never to see him again.</p> + +<p>How thankful she was that he did not know, really. He could not follow; +she would not be able to hurt him—after to-morrow. Her changed name +had saved her!</p> + +<p>"Priscilla Glynn," she faltered, "hide her, hide her forever, hide poor +Priscilla Glenn."</p> + +<p>Then her thoughts flew back to the recent past. She had found Margaret +alone in her own library.</p> + +<p>"Now how did you know I wanted you more than any one else in the world?" +Margaret had said. "When did you get back? You baddest of the bad! Why +did you hide from me? Where were you?"</p> + +<p>"In—Bermuda." How ghastly it sounded, but it caught Margaret's quick +thought.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, you little ghost of bygone days of bliss. You'll have to play +again. Work is killing you. In Bermuda? What doing?"</p> + +<p>"Wearing—my cap and apron, dear, dear——"</p> + +<p>"Your cap and apron? I thought you burned them! I shall tell Travers, you +deceitful, money-getting little fraud! Well, who has taken it out of you +so? You are as white as ivory. Do you know the Traverses came in on the +<i>St. Cloud</i> to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Doctor Travers came to see me."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! He doesn't seem to have cheered you much. I wager he's told you +what he thinks of you, tossing to the winds all the beautiful health and +spirits of the summer! When are you to be married? I must tell him to +bully you as—as my dear love is bullying me! Has Doctor Ledyard growled +at you? I can twist him easily! He is a darling, and just wears that face +and voice for fun in order to scare little redheaded nurses. Cilla, dear +heart, I'm going to be married in June! Dear, old-fashioned June, with +roses and good luck and—oh! the heaven seems opening and the glory is +pouring down! There, girlie! cuddle here! I'm going to tell you +everything; even to the mentioning of names! I've always hated to label +my joy before. But, first, take some chocolate; it's hot and piping. Now! +Who did you nurse in Bermuda? I'm going to tell him, or her, what I think +of him!"</p> + +<p>"I—nursed—Mr. Clyde Huntter. We were in New York all the time. That is +why—I had to keep—still——"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" Margaret set the cup she held, down sharply. The +quick brain was alert and in action.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" And then Margaret Moffatt came close to Priscilla, +and looked down deep into the unfaltering eyes raised to hers.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Clyde Huntter—is the man I am to marry!" she said in a voice from +which the girlish banter had gone forever. It was the voice of a woman in +arms to defend all she worshipped.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. I was in his room the day you called. I thought I should +die. I hoped he would tell you. I was ready to stand beside you; but he +did not tell!"</p> + +<p>"Tell—what? As God hears you, Priscilla, as you love me, and—and as I +trust you, tell me what?"</p> + +<p>And then Priscilla had told her. At first Margaret stood, taking the +deadly blow like a Spartan woman, her grave eyes fixed upon Priscilla. +Slowly the cruel truth, and all it implied, found its way through the +armour of her nobility and faith. She began to droop; then, like one +whose strength has departed, she dropped beside Priscilla's chair and +clung to her. It had not taken long to tell, but it had lain low every +beautiful thing but—courage!</p> + +<p>"Back there," Margaret had said at last, "back there where we played, I +told you I was ready for sacrifice. I thought my God was not going to +exact that, but since he has, I am ready. Priscilla, I still have God! I +wonder"—and, oh! how the weak, pain-filled voice had wrung Priscilla's +heart—"I wonder if you can understand when I tell you that I love my +love better now—than ever? Shall always love him, my poor boy! Can you +not see that he did not mean—to be evil? It was the curse handed down to +him, and when he found out—his love, our love, had taken possession of +him, and he could not let me—go! I feel as if—as if I were his mother! +He cannot have the thing he would die for, but I shall love him to the +end of life. I shall try to make it up to him—in some way; help him to +be willing and brave, to do the right; teach him that my way is the +only—honourable way. I am sure both he and I will be—glad not—not to +let others, oh! such sad, little others, pay the debt for us. Our day +is—is short at best, but the—the eternity! And you, dear, faithful +Cilla! You, with your blessed love, how will it be when I have done what +I must do? I must go to—to father and tell the truth, and then——"</p> + +<p>"I know," Priscilla had said. "Doctor Travers told me what would follow. +I shall not be here for him to suffer for; I am going——"</p> + +<p>"Where, my precious friend?"</p> + +<p>"To—the Place Beyond the Winds! You do not understand. You cannot; no +one can follow me; but I cannot bear the hurting blasts any more. I want +the In-Place."</p> + +<p>Then it was over, and now she was back in her lonely rooms. She packed +her few, dear possessions, and toward morning lay down upon her bed. At +daylight she departed, after settling her affairs with the night clerk +and leaving no directions that any one could follow.</p> + +<p>"It is business," she had cautioned, and the sleepy fellow nodded his +head.</p> + +<p>The rest did not matter. She would travel to the port from which the +boats sailed to Kenmore. Any boat would do; any time. Some morning, +perhaps, at four o'clock, if the passage had not been too rough, she +would find herself on the shabby little wharf with the pink morning light +about her, and the red-rock road stretching on before.</p> + +<p>Then Priscilla, like a miser, gripped her purse. Never before had money +held any power over her, but the hundreds she had saved were precious to +her now. Her father's doors were still, undoubtedly, closed to her. She +could not be a burden to the two men living in Master Farwell's small +home. There was, to be sure, Mary McAdam! By and by, perhaps, when the +hurt was less and she could trust herself more, she would go to the White +Fish Lodge and beg for employment; but until then——</p> + +<p>The morning Priscilla departed, Ledyard, unequal to any further strain, +was called upon to bear several. By his plate, at the breakfast table, +lay a scrawled envelope that he recognized at once as a report from +Tough Pine.</p> + +<p>"What's up now?" muttered he. "This thing isn't due for—three weeks +yet."</p> + +<p>Then he read, laboriously, the crooked lines:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I give up job. Dirty work. Money—bad money. I take no more—or I be +damned! He better man—than you was; you bad and evil, for fun—he grow +big and white. No work for bad man—friend now to good mens.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pine.</span></p></div> + +<p>"The devil!" muttered Ledyard; but oddly enough the letter raised, rather +than lowered, his mental temperature. Those ill-looking epistles of +Pine's had nauseated him lately. He had begun to experience the sensation +of over-indulgence. Some one had told him, a time back, of Boswell's +leaving the city, and he had been glad of the suspicion that arose in him +when he heard it.</p> + +<p>Later in the day the forces Priscilla had set in motion touched and drew +him into the maelstrom.</p> + +<p>"Ledyard"—this over the telephone—"my daughter has just informed me +that she is about to break her engagement. May I see you at—three?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Here, or at your office?"</p> + +<p>"I will come to you."</p> + +<p>They had it out, man to man, and with all the time-honoured and hoary +arguments.</p> + +<p>"My girl's a fool!" Moffatt panted, red-faced and eloquent. "Not to +mention what this really means to all of us, there is the girl's own +happiness at stake. What are we to tell the world? You cannot go about +and—explain! Good Lord! Ledyard, Huntter stands so high in public esteem +that to start such a story as this about him would be to ruin my own +reputation."</p> + +<p>"No. The thing's got to die," Ledyard mused. "Die at its birth."</p> + +<p>"Die in my girl's heart! Good God! Ledyard, you ought to see her after +the one night! It wrings my heart. It isn't as if the slander had killed +her love for him. It hasn't; it has strengthened it. 'I must bear this +for him and for me,' she said, looking at me with her mother's eyes. She +never looked like her mother before. It's broken me up. What's the world +coming to, when women get the bit in their teeth?"</p> + +<p>"There are times when all women look alike," Ledyard spoke half to +himself; "I've noticed that." The rest of Moffatt's sentence he ignored.</p> + +<p>"Why, in the name of all that is good," Moffatt blazed away, "did you +send that redheaded girl into our lives? I might have known from the hour +she set her will against mine that she was no good omen. Things I haven't +crushed, Ledyard, have always ended by giving me a blow, sooner or later. +Think of her coming into my home last night and daring——" The words +ended in a gulp. "Let me send Margaret to you," pleaded the father at his +wits' end. "Huntter is away. Will not be back until to-morrow. Perhaps +you can move her. You brought her into the world; you ought to try and +keep her here."</p> + +<p>At four Margaret entered Ledyard's office. She was very white, very +self-possessed, but gently smiling.</p> + +<p>"Dear old friend," she said, drawing near him and taking the rôle of +comforter at once. "Do not think I blame you. I know you did your best +with your blessed, nigh-to glasses on, but we younger folks have long +vision, you know. Do you remember how you once told me to swallow your +pills without biting them? I obeyed you for a long, long time; but I've +bitten this one! It's bitter, but it is for the best. The medicine is in +the pills; we might as well know."</p> + +<p>"See here, Margaret, I'm not going to use your father's weapons. I only +ask you—to wait! Do not break your engagement; let me see Huntter. Do +not speak to him of this. I can explain, and—" he paused—"if the worse +comes to the worst, the wedding can be postponed; then things can happen +gradually."</p> + +<p>"No," Margaret shook her head. "This is his affair and mine, and our love +lies between us. I want—oh! I want to make him feel as I do, if I can; +but above all else he must know that whatever I do is done in love. You +see, I cannot hate him now; by and by it would be different if we were +not just to each other."</p> + +<p>"My poor girl! Do you women think you are going to be happier, the world +better, because of—things like this? Men have thought it out!"</p> + +<p>"Alone, yes. And women have let you bear the burden—alone. Happiness +is—not all. And who can tell what the world will be when we all do the +work God sent us to do? I know this: we cannot push our responsibilities +off on any one else without stumbling across them sooner or later, for +the overburdened ones cannot carry too much, or forever!"</p> + +<p>Ledyard expected Travers for dinner, but, as the time drew near, he felt +that his young partner would not come. At six a note was handed to him:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Kindest of Friends:</span></p> + +<p>To-morrow, or soon, I will come to you; not to-night. I have to be +alone. I am all in confusion. I can see only step by step, and must +follow as I may. Two or three things stand out clear. We haven't, we +men, played the game fair, though God knows we meant to. They—she +and such women as my girl—are right! Blindly, fumblingly right. They +are seeking to square themselves, and we have no business to curse them +for their efforts.</p> + +<p>Lastly, I love Priscilla Glynn, and mean to have her, even at the +expense of my profession! You have set my feet on a broad path and +promised an honourable position. I have always felt that to try and +follow in your steps was the noblest ambition I had. I know now that I +could not accomplish this. You have truth and conviction to guide and +uphold you. I have doubt. I must work among my fellows with no hint of +distrust as to my own position. Forgive me! Go, if you will, to my +mother—to Helen. She will need you—after she knows. You will, +perhaps, understand when I tell you that, for a time at least, I must +be by myself, and I am going to the little town where my own mother and +I, long ago, lived our strange life together. She seems to be there, +waiting for me.</p></div> + +<p>Ledyard ate no dinner that night; he seemed broken and ill; he pushed +dish after dish aside, and finally left the table and the house.</p> + +<p>Everything had failed him. All his life's work and hopes rustled past him +like dead things as he walked the empty streets.</p> + +<p>"Truth and conviction," he muttered. "Who has them? The young ass! What +is truth? How can one be convinced? It's all bluff and a doing of one's +best!"</p> + +<p>And then he reached Helen Travers's house and found her waiting for him.</p> + +<p>"I have a—a note from Dick," she said. Ledyard saw that she had been +crying.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy! He has gone to—his mother; his real mother. We"—she caught +her breath—"we have, somehow, failed him. He is in trouble."</p> + +<p>"I wonder—why?" Ledyard murmured. Never had his voice held that tone +before. It startled even the sad woman.</p> + +<p>"We have tried to do right—have loved him so," she faltered.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we have been too sure of ourselves, our traditions. Each +generation has its own ideals. We're only stepping-stones, but we like +to believe we're the—end-all!"</p> + +<p>"That may be."</p> + +<p>Then they sat with bowed heads in silence, until Ledyard spoke again.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to retire, Helen. Without him, work would be—impossible. +His empty place would be a silent condemnation, a constant reminder, +of—mistakes."</p> + +<p>"If he leaves me, I shall close this house. I could not live—without him +here. I never envied his mother before. I have pitied, condoned her, but +to-night I envy her from my soul!"</p> + +<p>"Helen"—and here Ledyard got up and walked the length of the room +restlessly; he was about to put his last hope to the test—"Helen, this +world is—too new for us; for you and me. We belong back where the light +is not so strong and things go slower! We get—blinded and breathless and +confused. I have nothing left, nor have you. Will you come with me to +that crack in the Alps, as Dick used to call it, and let me—love you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! John Ledyard! What a man you are!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly! <i>What</i> a man I am! A poor, rough fool, always loving what was +best; never daring to risk anything for it. I'm tired to death——"</p> + +<p>She was beside him, kneeling, with her snow-touched head upon his knee.</p> + +<p>"So am I. Tired, tired! I could not do without you. I have leaned on you +far too long; we all have. Now, dear, lean on me for the rest of the +way."</p> + +<p>He bent his grizzled head upon hers and his eyes had the look of prayer +that Priscilla once discovered.</p> + +<p>"Dick—has not told me his real trouble," Helen faintly said. "I know it +is somehow connected with a—nurse."</p> + +<p>"The redheaded one," Ledyard put in; "a regular little marplot!" Then he +gave that gruff laugh of his that Helen knew to be a signal of surrender.</p> + +<p>"It's odd," he went on, "how one can admire and respect when often he +disapproves. I disapprove of this—redheaded girl, but, if it will +comfort you any, my child, I will tell you this: Dick's future, in her +hands, would be founded on—on everlasting rock!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—she won't have him!"</p> + +<p>"Helen"—and Ledyard caught her to him—"you never would have said that +if you had been Dick's mother!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps—not!"</p> + +<p>"No. You and I have only played second fiddles, first and last; but +second fiddles come in handy!"</p> + +<p>The room grew dim and shadowy, and the two in the western window clung +together.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard—John, that Margaret Moffatt has broken her engagement to +Clyde Huntter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Where did you hear it?"</p> + +<p>"She came—to see me; wanted to know how I was. She was very beautiful +and dear. She talked a good deal about that—that——"</p> + +<p>"Redheaded nurse?" asked Ledyard.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I couldn't quite see any connecting link then, but you know Dick +did go to that Swiss village last summer. I fear the party wasn't +properly chaperoned, for 'twas there he met—the nurse!"</p> + +<p>"It—was!" grunted Ledyard.</p> + +<p>"There is something sadly wrong with this broken engagement of +Margaret's, but I imagine no one will ever know. Girls are so—so +different from what they used to be."</p> + +<p>"Yes," but a tone of doubt was in Ledyard's voice. Presently he said: +"Since Dick has left, or may leave, the profession, I suppose he'll take +to writing. He's always told me that when he could afford to, he'd like +to cut the traces and wollop the race with his pen. Many doctors would +like to do that. A gag and a chain and ball are not what they're cracked +up to be. The pen is mightier than the pill, sometimes, but it often +eliminates the butter from the bread."</p> + +<p>Helen caught at the only part of this speech that she understood.</p> + +<p>"There's the little income I'm living on," she said; "it's Dick's +father's. I wish—you'd let me give it to him—now. I am old-fashioned +enough to want to live on my husband's money."</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" Ledyard drew her closer; "quite the proper feeling. It can be +easily arranged."</p> + +<p>And while they sat in the gathering gloom, Travers was wending his way up +a village street, and wondering that he found things so little changed.</p> + +<p>While his heart grew heavier, his steps hastened, and he felt like a +small boy again—a boy afraid of the dark, afraid of the mystery of +night—alone! The boy of the past had always known a heavy heart, too, +and that added reality to the touch.</p> + +<p>There stood the old cottage with a sign "To Let" swinging from the porch. +Had no one lived there since they, he and the pretty creature he called +mother, had gone away?</p> + +<p>There had been workmen in the house, evidently. They had carelessly left +the outer door open and a box of tools in the living-room. Travers went +in and sat down upon the chest, closed his eyes, and gave himself up to +his sad mood. Clearly he seemed to hear the low, sweet voice:</p> + +<p>"Little son, is that you?" Yes, it was surely he! "Come home to—to +mother? Tired, dear?" Indeed he was tired—tired to the verge of +exhaustion. "Suppose—suppose we have a story? Come, little son! It shall +be a story of a fine, golden-haired princess who loves and loves, but—is +very, very wise. And you are to be the prince who is wise, too. If you +are not both very wise there will be trouble; and of course princesses +and princes do not have trouble." The old, foolish memory ran on with its +deeper truth breaking in upon the heart and soul of the man in the +haunted room.</p> + +<p>Then Travers spoke aloud:</p> + +<p>"Mother, I will make no mistake if I can help it, and as God hears me, +I will not cheat love. As far as lies in me, I will play fair for her +sake—and yours!"</p> + +<p>When he uncovered his eyes he almost expected to see a creaky little +rocker and a sleepy boy resting on the breast of a woman so beautiful +that it was no wonder many had loved her.</p> + +<p>"Poor, little, long-ago mother!"</p> + +<p>Then he thought of Helen and her strong purpose in life, her devotion and +sacrifice.</p> + +<p>"I must go to her!" he cried resolutely. "I owe her—much, much!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + + +<p>The pines and the hemlocks stood out sharply against a pink, throbbing +sky in which the stars still shone faintly but brilliantly. It was five +o'clock of a dim morning, and no one was astir in the In-Place as the +little steamer indolently turned from the Big Bay into the Channel and +headed for the wharf.</p> + +<p>Not a breath of air seemed stirring, and the stillness was unbroken +except by the panting of the engines.</p> + +<p>Priscilla Glenn stood near the gangway of the boat. Now that she had left +all her beautiful love and life, she was eager to hide, like a hurt and +bruised thing, in the old, familiar home. Leaning her poor, tired head +against the post near her, she thought of the desolate wreck behind, and +the tears came to the deep, true eyes.</p> + +<p>"I could have done—nothing else!" she murmured, as if to comfort the sad +thing she was. "It had to be! Margaret knew that; she understood. By now +she is as bereft as I; poor, dear love! Oh! it seems, just sometimes it +seems, like an army of men on one side and all of us women on the other. +Between us lies the great battlefield, and they, the men, are trying to +fight alone—fight our battle as well as theirs. And—they cannot! they +cannot!"</p> + +<p>Just then the boat touched the wharf, and a sleepy man, a stranger to +Priscilla, materialized and looked at her queerly.</p> + +<p>"For the Lodge?" he grunted.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I suppose so. Yes, the Lodge."</p> + +<p>"Up yonder." Then he turned to the freight. Once she was on the Green, +Priscilla paused and looked about.</p> + +<p>"For which?" Then she smiled a ghost of her bright, sunny smile.</p> + +<p>"My father's doors are shut to me," she sighed; "I cannot go to the +Lodge, yet! I must go—to——" Something touched her hand, and she +looked down. It was Farwell's dog, the old one, the one who used to play +with Priscilla when she was a little girl.</p> + +<p>"You dear!" she cried, dropping beside him; "You've come to show me the +way. Beg, Tony, beg like a good fellow. I have a bit of cake for you!"</p> + +<p>Clumsily, heavily, the old collie tried to respond, but of late he had +been excused from acting; and he was old, old.</p> + +<p>"Then take it, Tony, take it without pay. That comes of being a doggie. +You ought to be grateful that you are a dog, and—need not pay!"</p> + +<p>It was clear to her now that Farwell's home must be her first shelter, +and taking up her suit-case she passed over the Green and took the path +leading to the master's house.</p> + +<p>Some one had been before her. Some one who had swept the hearth, lighted +a fire, and set the breakfast table. Pine had taken Toky's place and was +vying with that deposed oriental in whole-souled service.</p> + +<p>Priscilla pushed the ever-unlatched door open and went inside. The bare +living-room had been transformed. John Boswell had transferred the +comfort, without the needless luxury, from the town home to the +In-Place—books, pictures, rugs, the winged chair and an equally easy one +across the hearth. And, yes, there was her own small rocker close by, as +if, in their detachment, they still remembered her and missed her and +were—ready for her coming! Priscilla noiselessly took off her wraps and +sat down, glad to rest again in the welcoming chair.</p> + +<p>She swayed back and forth, her closely folded arms across her +fast-beating heart. She kept her face turned toward the door through +which she knew the men would enter. She struggled for control, for a +manner which would disarm their shock at seeing her; but never in her +life had she felt more defeated, more helplessly at bay.</p> + +<p>The early morning light, streaming through the broad eastern window, +struck full across her where she sat in the low rocker; and so Boswell +and Farwell came upon her. They stopped short on the threshold and each, +in his way, sought to account for the apparition. The brave smile upon +Priscilla's face broke and fled miserably.</p> + +<p>"I—I've been doshed!" she cried in a last effort at bravado, and then, +covering her face with her hands, she wept hysterically, repeating again +and again, "I've come home, come home—to—no home!"</p> + +<p>They were beside her at once. Boswell's hand rested on the bowed head; +Farwell's on the back of her chair.</p> + +<p>"Dear, bright Butterfly!" whispered Boswell comfortingly; "it has come to +grief in the Garden."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I wanted to learn, and oh! Master Farwell, I said I was willing to +suffer, and I have, I have!"</p> + +<p>Then she looked up and her unflinching courage returned.</p> + +<p>"I was tired!" she moaned; "tired and hungry."</p> + +<p>"After breakfast you will explain—only as much as you choose, child." +This from Farwell. "Make the toast for us, Priscilla. I remember how +you used to brown it without blackening it. Boswell always gets dreaming +on the second side of the slice."</p> + +<p>After the strange meal Priscilla told very little, but both men read +volumes in her pale, thin face and understanding eyes.</p> + +<p>"Damn them!" thought Farwell; "they have taken it out of her. I knew they +would; but they have not conquered her!"</p> + +<p>Boswell thoughtfully considered her when her eyes were turned from him.</p> + +<p>"She learned," he thought; "suffered and learned; but when she gets her +breath she will go back. The In-Place cannot hold her."</p> + +<p>Then they told her of the Kenmore folk.</p> + +<p>"Your father has had a stroke, Priscilla," Farwell said in reply to her +question; "it has made him blind. Long Jean cares for him. He will have +no other near him."</p> + +<p>"And—he never wants me?" Priscilla whispered.</p> + +<p>"No; but he needs you!" Boswell muttered. "You must let your velvety +wings brush his dark life; the touch will comfort him."</p> + +<p>"And old Jerry?"</p> + +<p>Farwell leaned forward to poke the fire.</p> + +<p>"Old Jerry," said he, "has gone mildly—mad. All day he sits dressed in +his best, ready to start for Jerry-Jo's. He fancies that scapegoat of his +has a mansion and fortune, and is expecting his arrival. He amuses +himself by packing and unpacking a mangy old carpet-bag. Mary McAdam +looks after him and the village youngsters play with him. It's rather +a happy ending, after all."</p> + +<p>Many a time after that Priscilla packed and unpacked the old carpet-bag, +while Jerry rambled on of his great and splendid lad to the "Miss from +the States."</p> + +<p>"It's weak I am to-day, ma'am," he would say, "but to-morrow, to-morrow! +'Tis the Secret Portage I'll make for; the Fox is a bit too tricky for my +boat—a fine boat, ma'am. I'm thinking the Big Bay may be a trifle rough, +but the boat's a staunch one. Jerry-Jo's expecting me; but he'll +understand."</p> + +<p>"I am sure he will be glad to see you, sir." Priscilla learned to play +the sad game. The children taught her and loved her, and all the quiet +village kept her secret. Mary McAdam claimed her, but Priscilla clung +to the two men who meant the only comfort she could know. They never +questioned her; never intruded upon her sad, and often pitiful, reserve; +but they yearned over her and cheered her as best they could.</p> + +<p>Priscilla's visits to her father's house were often dramatic. At first +the sound of her voice disturbed and excited the blind man pathetically.</p> + +<p>"Eh? eh?" he stormed, holding to Long Jean's hand; "who comes in my +door?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! a lass—from the States," Jean replied with a reassuring pat on the +bony shoulder.</p> + +<p>"From the States?" suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Aye. She's taken training in one of them big hospitables, and is a +friend to the crooked gentleman who bides with Master Farwell. The lass +comes to give me lessons in my trade." Jean had a touch of humour.</p> + +<p>"I'll have no fandangoing with me!" asserted Glenn, settling back in his +chair. "Old ways are good enough for me, Jean, and remember that, if you +value your place. I want no woman about me who has notions different from +what God Almighty meant her to have. Larning is woman's curse. Give 'em +larning, I've always held, and you've headed 'em for perdition."</p> + +<p>But Priscilla won him gradually, after he had become accustomed to her +disturbing voice. He would not have her touch him physically. She seemed +to rouse in him a strange unrest when she came near him, but eventually +he accepted her as a diversion and utilized her for his own hidden need.</p> + +<p>One day, with a hint of spring in the air, he reached out a lean hand +toward the window near which Jean had placed him, and said:</p> + +<p>"Woman, are you here?"</p> + +<p>"Jean's gone—erranding." The old mother-word attracted Glenn's +attention.</p> + +<p>"Eh?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>"To the village. I'm waiting until she comes back. Can I do anything for +you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"No. Is—is it a sunny day?"</p> + +<p>"Glorious. The ice is melting now—in the shady places."</p> + +<p>"I thought I felt the warmth. 'Tis cold and drear sitting forever in +darkness."</p> + +<p>"I am sure it must be—terrible."</p> + +<p>But Glenn resented pity.</p> + +<p>"God's will is never terrible!" he flung back. Then:</p> + +<p>"Are you one—who got larning?"</p> + +<p>"I—learned to read, sir."</p> + +<p>"And much—good it's done you—the larning! I warrant ye'd be better off +without it. Women are. Good women are content with God's way. My wife +was. Always willing, was she, to follow. God was enough for her—God and +me!"</p> + +<p>"I wonder!"</p> + +<p>"Eh? What was that?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, sir. May I read to you?"</p> + +<p>"Is the Book there?"</p> + +<p>"Right here on the stand. What shall I read?"</p> + +<p>"There's one verse as haunts me at times; find it in Acts—the +seventeenth, I think—and along about the twenty-third verse. I used to +conjure what it might mean more than was good for me. It haunts me now, +though I ain't doubting but what the meaning will come to me, some day. +Them as sits in darkness often gets spiritual leadings."</p> + +<p>And Priscilla read:</p> + +<p>"'For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with +this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly +worship, him I declare unto you?'"</p> + +<p>A silence fell between the old, blind father and the stranger-girl +looking yearningly into his face.</p> + +<p>"I've conned it this way and that," Glenn said, with his oratorical +manner claiming him. "It might be that some worship an Unknown God and +the true God might pass by and set things straight. There be altars and +altars, and sometimes even my God seems——"</p> + +<p>"An Unknown God?" Priscilla asked tenderly. "That must be such a lonely +feeling."</p> + +<p>"No!" almost shrieked Nathaniel, as if the suggestion insulted him; "no! +The true God declared himself to me long since. But what do you make +of it, young Miss?"</p> + +<p>Priscilla turned her eyes to the open, free outer world, where the +sunshine was and the stirring of spring.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes," she whispered, "I love to think of God coming down from all +the shrines and altars of the world, and walking with his children—in +the Garden! They need him so. I do not like altars or shrines; the Garden +is the holiest place for God to be!"</p> + +<p>"Thou blasphemer!" Glenn struggled to an upright position and his +sightless eyes were fixed upon his child. "Wouldst thou desecrate the +holy of holies, the altars of the living God?"</p> + +<p>"If he is a living God he will not stay upon an altar; he will come and +walk with his children!"</p> + +<p>The tone of the absorbed voice reached where heretofore it had never +touched.</p> + +<p>"I'll have none of thee!" commanded Nathaniel, his face dangerously +purple. "Your words are of the—the devil! Leave me! leave me!" And for +the second time Priscilla was ordered from her father's house.</p> + +<p>It did not matter. It was all so useless, and the future was so blank. +Still, to go back to Master Farwell's just then was impossible, and +Priscilla turned toward the wood road leading to the Far Hill Place. She +had no plan, no purpose. She was drifting, drifting, and could not see +her way. The bright sun touched her comfortingly. In the shadow it was +chilly; but the red rock was warm and luring. And so she came to the open +space and the almost forgotten shrine where once she had raised her +Strange God.</p> + +<p>She sat down upon a fallen tree and looked over the little, many-islanded +bay to the Secret Portage. Through that she seemed to pass yearningly, +and her eyes grew large and strained. Then she stretched out her arms, +her young, empty arms.</p> + +<p>"My Garden!" she called; "my Garden, my dear, dear love and Margaret's +God! Margaret's and mine!"</p> + +<p>And so she sat for a while longer. Then, because the chill air crept +closer and closer, she arose and faced the old, bleached skull. The +winters had killed the sheltering vines that once hid it from all eyes +but hers. It stood bare and hideous, as if demanding that she again +worship it. A frenzy overpowered Priscilla. That whitened, dead thing +brought back memories that hurt and stung by their very sweetness. She +rushed to the spot and seized the forked stick upon which the skull +rested.</p> + +<p>"This for all—Unknown Gods!" she cried in breathless passion, and dashed +the skull to the ground. "And this! and this!" She trampled it. "They +shall not keep you upon shrines! They shall not keep you hidden from all +in the Garden!" With that she took a handful of the shattered god and +flung it far and wide, with her blazing eyes fixed on the Secret Portage.</p> + +<p>Standing so, she looked like a priestess of old defying all falseness and +traditional wrong.</p> + +<p>Among the trees Richard Travers gazed upon the scene with a kind of +horror gripping him.</p> + +<p>He was not a superstitious man, but he was a worn and weary one, and he +had come to the Far Hill Place, two days before, because, after much +searching, he had failed to find Priscilla Glynn, and his love was hurt +and desperate. He had wanted to hide and suffer where no eyes could +penetrate. But he had discovered that for a man to return to his boyhood +was but to undergo the torture of those who are haunted by lost spirits. +It had been damnable—that dreary, dismantled house back on the hill! +The nights had maddened him and left him unable to cope intelligently +with the days. Nothing comforting had been there. The pale boy he once +had been taunted him with memories of lowered ideals, unfilled promise +and purpose. He had travelled a long distance from the Far Hill Place, +and he was going back to fight it out—somehow, somewhere. He would +stop at Master Farwell's and then take the night steamer for the old +battle-ground. And just at that moment, in the open space, he saw the +strange sight that stopped his breath and heart for an instant.</p> + +<p>Of course his wornout senses were being tricked. He had known of such +cases, and was now thoroughly alarmed. Like a man in delirium, he walked +into the open and confronted the fascinated gaze of the girl for whom he +had been searching for weeks.</p> + +<p>"How came—you here?" he asked in a voice from which normal emotions were +eliminated.</p> + +<p>"And—you?" she echoed.</p> + +<p>They came a step nearer, their hands outstretched in a poor, blind +groping for solution and reality.</p> + +<p>"Why—I am—I meant to tell you—some day. I am Priscilla Glenn—not +Glynn—Priscilla Glenn of—Lonely Farm."</p> + +<p>"My God!" Travers came a step nearer, his face set and grim. "Of course! +I see it now—the dance! Don't you remember? The dance at the Swiss +village?"</p> + +<p>"And the—the tune that made me cry. Who—are——How did <i>you</i> know that +tune? How did you know—the In-Place?"</p> + +<p>Their hands touched and clung now, desperately. Together they must find +their way out.</p> + +<p>"I am—I was—the boy of the Far Hill Place. I played for you—once—to +dance—right here!"</p> + +<p>Something seemed snapping in Priscilla's brain.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she whispered, breathing hard and quick. "I remember now: you +taught me music, and—and you taught me—love, but you told me not to let +them kill my ideal; and, oh! I haven't! I haven't!"</p> + +<p>She shut her eyes and reeled forward. She did not faint, but for a moment +her senses refused to accept impressions.</p> + +<p>Travers knelt and caught her to him as she fell. Her dear head was upon +his knee once more, and he pressed his lips to the wonderful hair from +which the little hat had fallen. Then her eyes opened, but her lips +trembled.</p> + +<p>"You—came all the way from the Place Beyond the Winds, little girl, to +show me my ideal again; to strike your blow—for women." Travers was +whispering.</p> + +<p>"Your ideal? But no, dear love. Your ideal is back there—in the Garden."</p> + +<p>"And yours? I—I do not understand, Priscilla. I am still dazed. What +Garden?"</p> + +<p>"The big world, my dear man; your world."</p> + +<p>"My blessed child! Do not look like that. Do you think I'm going back +without you? I've been looking for—Priscilla Glynn—fool that I was! +And you were—great heavens! You were the little nurse in St. Albans!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and you and I—stood by Jerry-Jo McAlpin's bed—you and I! That was +his secret."</p> + +<p>"Priscilla, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Then she told him, clinging to him, fearing that he might fall from her +hold as she had once fallen from his, on the mountain across the sea.</p> + +<p>"And you danced before my eyes as only one woman on earth can dance—and +I did not know! Tricked by a name and—and the change in me! You were +always the same—the flame-spirit that I first saw—here!"</p> + +<p>"And you played—that tune, and you were divinely good; and I—I did not +know."</p> + +<p>"But we drifted straight to each other, my girl!"</p> + +<p>"Only—to part."</p> + +<p>"To part? Never! It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out +to the open sea. We'll slip our moorings to-night, and send word after! +I must have you, and at once. I know what it means to see you escaping my +hold. Flame-spirits are elusive."</p> + +<p>"And—and Margaret?"</p> + +<p>"She—needs you. A fortnight ago I saw her, and this is what she said, +smiling her old, brave smile: 'I think I could bear it better if her +dear, shining head was in sight. Greater love hath no woman! Find her and +bring her back!' That's your place, my sweet. Out there where the fight +is on. Such as you can show us—that 'tis no fight between men and women, +but one against ignorance and tradition. You'll trust yourself to me, +dear girl?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a href="images/gs05.jpg"><img src="images/gs05.jpg" alt=""/></a> +</div> + +<h3><a name="gs05" id="gs05"></a>[Illustration:"'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, +and out to the open sea'"]</h3> + + +<p>"I did—long ago!"</p> + +<p>"To think"—Travers was gaining control of himself; the shock, the +readjustment, had been so sudden that sensation returned slowly—"to +think, dear blunderer, of your coming among us all, striking your blow, +and then rushing to your In-Place! But love is mightier than thou; +mightier than all else!"</p> + +<p>"Not mightier than honour—such honour as Margaret knows!" Then fiercely: +"What right have I to my—joy, when she——"</p> + +<p>"She told me that only by your happiness being consummated could she hope +for peace."</p> + +<p>Travers's voice was low and reverent.</p> + +<p>"What—a girl she is!" Priscilla faltered.</p> + +<p>"The All Woman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the All Woman."</p> + +<p>The sun began to drop behind the tall hemlocks. Priscilla shivered in the +arms that held her.</p> + +<p>"Little girl, I wish I could wrap you in the old red cape you wore once, +before the shrine."</p> + +<p>"It is gone now, like the shrine. Oh! my love, my love, to think of the +Garden makes me live again." The fancy caught Travers's imagination.</p> + +<p>"The Garden!"</p> + +<p>'Twas a day for dreamy wandering, now that they had come to a cleared +space from which they could see light.</p> + +<p>"The Garden, with its flowers and weeds."</p> + +<p>"And its men and women!" added Priscilla, her eyes full of gladness. +"Oh! long ago, I told Master Farwell that I felt Kenmore was only my +stopping-place; I feel it now so surely."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my sweet, but you and I will return here to polish our ideals and +catch our breaths."</p> + +<p>"In the Place Beyond the Winds, dear man?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly! Those old Indians had a genius for names."</p> + +<p>"And in the Garden—what are we to do?" Priscilla asked, her eyes growing +more practical. "They will have none of—Priscilla Glynn, you know. And +you, dear heart, what will they do to you, now that you have defied their +code?"</p> + +<p>"Priscilla Glynn has done her best and is—gone! There will be a +Priscilla Travers with many a stern duty before her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you?"</p> + +<p>"I shall try to keep your golden head in sight, little girl! For the +rest—I have a small income—my father's. I must tell you about him and +my mother, some day; and I shall write—write; and men and women may read +what they might not be willing to listen to."</p> + +<p>"I see! And oh! how rich and bright the way on ahead looks! Just when I +thought the clouds were crushing me, they opened and I saw——"</p> + +<p>"What, Priscilla?"</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>"And now," Travers got upon his feet and drew her up; "do you know what +is going to happen?"</p> + +<p>"Can anything more happen to-day?"</p> + +<p>"We are going to Master Farwell's, you and I. We are going to take him +with us to the little chapel down the Channel; there we'll leave +Priscilla Glenn, and, in her place, bring Priscilla Travers forth."</p> + +<p>The colour rose to the thin, radiant face.</p> + +<p>"And may we take John Boswell, too?"</p> + +<p>"Boswell? Is he here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with my Master Farwell."</p> + +<p>Travers rapidly put loose ends of the past together, then exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"God bless him; God bless Master Farwell!"</p> + +<p>"I only know"—Priscilla's eyes were dim—"I only know—they are good +men—both!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, both! And to-night," Travers came back to the present, "I will take +my wife away with me on the steamer."</p> + +<p>"A poor, vagabond wife. Nothing but a heart full of love—as baggage."</p> + +<p>"The Garden is a rich place, my love."</p> + +<p>"And one can get so much for so little there." Priscilla meant to hold to +her dear old joke.</p> + +<p>"And so little—for so much!"</p> + +<p>"That's not the language of the Garden, good man!"</p> + +<p>It was so easy to play, now that Travers was leading the way from the +wrecked shrine.</p> + +<p>"You are right, my girl!" Then Travers stopped and faced her, his eyes +glowing with love and courage. "And to-morrow—is not yet touched!" he +said.</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Joyce of the North Woods</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Princess Rags and Tatters</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Son of the Hills</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Janet of the Dunes</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A Little Dusky Hero</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Meg and the Others</span><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Camp Brave Pine</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Place Beyond the Winds, by Harriet T. 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Comstock + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Place Beyond the Winds + +Author: Harriet T. Comstock + +Illustrator: Harry Spafford Potter + +Release Date: June 2, 2006 [EBook #18488] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PLACE BEYOND THE WINDS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan +and yet divine"] + + + + +THE PLACE BEYOND THE WINDS + +BY HARRIET T. COMSTOCK + + +_Illustrated by_ +HARRY SPAFFORD POTTER + +GARDEN CITY, NEW YORK +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY +1914 + + + + +FOREWORD + + +The In-Place cannot be found; you must happen upon it! Hidden behind its +rugged red rocks and hemlock-covered hills, it lies waiting for something +to happen. It has its Trading Station, to and from which the Canadian +Indians paddle their canoes--sometimes a dugout--bearing rare, luscious +blue berries invitingly packed in small baskets with their own green +leaves. And to the Station, also, go the hardy natives--good English, +Scotch, or "Mixed"--with their splendid loads of fish. + +"White fish go: pickerel come"--but always there is fish through summer +days and winter's ice. + +There is a lovely village Green, around which the modest homes cluster +sociably. Poor, plain places they may be, but never dirty nor untidy. And +the children and dogs! Such lovely babies; such human animals. They play +and work together quite naturally and are the truest friends. + +A little church, with a queer pointed spire and a beautiful altar, +stands with open doors like a kindly welcome to all. Back of this, and +apologetically placed behind its stockade fence, is the jail. + +To have a jail and never need it! What more can be said of a community? +But you are told--if you insist upon it--that the building is preserved +as a warning, and if any one should by chance be forced to occupy it, "he +will have the best the place affords"--for justice is seasoned with mercy +in the In-Place. + +If you would know the aristocracy of the hamlet you must leave the +friendly Green and the pleasant water of the Channel, climb the red +rocks, tread the grassy road between the hemlocks and the pines, and find +the farms. For, be it understood, by one's ability to wrench a living +from the soil instead of the water is he known and estimated. To fish is +to gamble; to plant and reap is conservative business. + +Dreamer's Rock and One Tree Island, Far Hill Place and Lonely Farm, +safely sheltered they lie, and from them, in obedience to the "Lure of +the States," comes now and again an adventurous soul to make his way, if +so he may; and never was there a braver, truer wanderer than Priscilla of +Lonely Farm. Equipped with a great faith, a straight method of thinking, +and an ideal that never faded from her sight, she, by the help of the +Poor Property Man, found her place and her work awaiting her. Love, she +found, too--love that had to be tested by a man's sense of honour and a +woman's determination, but it survived and found its fulfilment before +the Shrine in the woods beyond Lonely Farm, where, as a little child, +Priscilla had set up her Strange God and given homage to it. + +Harriet T. Comstock. + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan and yet divine" +_Frontispiece_ + +"'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!' The +bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway" + +"'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you! You'll blacken +my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous +and--marry me?'" + +"In one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, the man +upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then at +Priscilla" + +"'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out to the open +sea'" + + + + +The Place Beyond the Winds + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Priscilla Glenn stood on the little slope leading down from the farmhouse +to the spring at the bottom of the garden, and lifted her head as a young +deer does when it senses something new or dangerous. Suddenly, and +entirely subconsciously, she felt her kinship with life, her relation to +the lovely May day which was more like June than May--and a rare thing +for Kenmore--whose seasons lapsed into each other as calmly and +sluggishly as did all the other happenings in that spot known to the +Canadian Indians as The Place Beyond the Wind--the In-Place. + +Across Priscilla's straight, young shoulders lay a yoke from both ends of +which dangled empty tin pails, destined, sooner or later, to be filled +with that peculiarly fine water of which Nathaniel Glenn was so proud. +Nathaniel Glenn never loved things in a human, tender fashion, but he was +proud of many things--proud that he, and his before him, had braved the +hardships of farming among the red, rocky hills of Kenmore instead of +wrenching a livelihood from the water. This capacity for tilling the soil +instead of gambling in fish had made of Glenn, and a few other men, the +real aristocracy of the place. Nathaniel's grandfather, with his wife and +fifteen children, had been the first white settlers of Kenmore. So eager +had the Indians been to have this first Glenn among them that it is said +they offered him any amount of land he chose to select, and Glenn had +taken only so much as would insure him a decent farm and prospects. This +act of restraint had further endeared him to the natives, and no regret +was ever known to follow the advent of the estimable gentleman. + +The present Glenn never boasted; he had no need to; the plain statement +of fact was enough to secure his elevated position from mean attack. + +Nathaniel had taught himself to read and write--a most unusual thing--and +naturally he was proud of that. He was proud of his stern, bleak religion +that left no doubt in his own mind of his perfect interpretation of +divine will. He was proud of his handsome wife--twenty years younger than +himself. Inwardly he was proud of that, within himself, which had been +capable of securing Theodora where other men had failed. Theodora had +caused him great disappointment, but Nathaniel was a just man and he +could not exactly see that his disappointment was due to any deliberate +or malicious act of Theodora's; it was only when his wife showed weak +tendencies toward making light of the matter that he hardened his heart. + +In the face of his great desire and his modest aspirations--Theodora had +borne for him (that was the only way he looked at it) five children--all +girls, when she very well knew a son was the one thing, in the way of +offspring, that he had expected or wanted. + +The first child was as dark as a little Indian, "so dark," explained +Nathaniel, "that she would have been welcome in any house on a New Year's +Day." She lasted but a year, and, while she was a regret, she had been +tolerated as an attempt, at least, in the right direction. Then came the +second girl, a soft, pale creature with ways that endeared her to the +mother-heart so tragically that when she died at the age of two Theodora +rebelliously proclaimed that she wanted no other children! This blasphemy +shocked Nathaniel beyond measure, and when, a year later, twin girls were +born on Lonely Farm, he pointed out to his wife that no woman could fly +in the face of the Almighty with impunity and she must now see, in this +double disgrace of sex, her punishment. + +Theodora was stricken; but the sad little sisters early escaped the +bondage of life, and the Glenns once again, childless and alone, viewed +the future superstitiously and with awe. Even Nathaniel, hope gone as to +a son, resignedly accepted the fate that seemed to pursue him. Then, +after five years, Priscilla was born, the lustiest and most demanding of +all the children. + +"She seems," said Long Jean, the midwife, "to be made of the odds and +ends of all the others. She has the clear, dark skin of the first, the +blue eyes of the second, and the rusty coloured hair and queer features +of the twins." + +Between Long Jean and Mary Terhune, midwives, a social rivalry existed. +On account of her Indian taint Long Jean was less sought in aristocratic +circles, but so great had been the need the night when Priscilla made her +appearance, that both women had been summoned, and Long Jean, arriving +first, and, her superior skill being well known, was accepted. + +When she announced the birth and sex of the small stranger, Nathaniel, +smoking before the fire in the big, clean, bare, living-room, permitted +himself one reckless defiance: + +"Not wanted!" Long Jean made the most of this. + +"And his pretty wife at the point of death," she gossiped to Mrs. McAdam +of the White Fish Lodge; "and there is this to say about the child being +a girl: the lure of the States can't touch her, and Nathaniel may have +some one to turn to for care and what not when infirmity overtakes him. +Besides, the lass may be destined for the doing of big things; those +witchy brats often are." + +"The lure don't get all the boys," muttered Mary McAdam, cautiously +thinking of her Sandy, aged five, and Tom, a bit older. + +"All as amounts to much," Long Jean returned. + +And in her heart of hearts Mary McAdam knew this to be true. The time +would come to her, as it had to all Kenmore mothers, when she would have +to acknowledge that by the power of the "lure" were her boys to be +tested. + +But Priscilla at Lonely Farm showed a hardened disregard of her state. +She persisted and grew sturdy and lovely in defiance of tradition and +conditions. She was as keen-witted and original as she was independent +and charming. Still Theodora took long before she capitulated, and +Nathaniel never succumbed. Indeed, as years passed he grew to fear and +dislike his young daughter. The little creature, in some subtle way, +seemed to have "found him out"; she became, though he would not admit it, +a materialized conscience to him. She made him doubt himself; she laughed +at him, elfishly and without excuse or explanation. + +Once they two, sitting alone before the hearth--Nathaniel in his great +chair, Priscilla in her small one--faced each other fearsomely for a +time; then the child gave the gurgling laugh of inner understanding that +maddened the father. + +"What you laughing at?" he muttered, taking the pipe from his mouth. + +"You!" Priscilla was only seven then, but large and strong. + +"Me? How dare you!" + +"You are so funny. If I screw my eyes tight I see two of you." + +Then Nathaniel struck her. Not brutally, not maliciously; he wanted +desperately to set himself right by--old-time and honoured methods--force +of authority! + +Priscilla sprang from her chair, all the laughter and joyousness gone +from her face. She went close to her father, and leaning toward him as +though to confide the warning to him more directly, said slowly: + +"Don't you do that or Cilla will hate you!" + +It was as if she meant to impress upon him that past a certain limit he +could not go. + +Nathaniel rose in mighty wrath at this, and, white-faced and outraged, +darted toward the rebel, but she escaped him and put the width of the +room and the square deal table between them. Then began the chase that +suddenly sank into a degrading and undignified proceeding. Around and +around the two went, and presently the child began to laugh again as +the element of sport entered in. + +So Theodora came upon them, and her deeper understanding of her husband's +face frightened and spurred her to action. In that moment, while she +feared, she loved, as she had never loved before, her small daughter. If +the child was a conscience to her stern father, she was a materialization +of all the suppressed defiance of the mother, and, ignoring consequences, +she ran to Priscilla, gathered her in her arms, and over the little, hot, +panting body, confronted the blazing eyes of her husband. + +And Nathaniel had done--nothing; said nothing! In a moment the fury, +outwardly, subsided, but deep in all three hearts new emotions were born +never to die. + +After that there was a triangle truce. The years slipped by. Theodora +taught her little daughter to read by a novel method which served the +double purpose of quickening the keen intellect and arousing a +housewifely skill. + +The alphabet was learned from the labels on the cans of vegetables and +fruits on Theodora's shelves. There was one line of goods made by a firm, +according to its own telling, high in the favour of "their Majesties So +and So," that was rich in vowels and consonants. When Priscilla found +that by taking innocent looking little letters and stringing them +together like beads she could make words, she was wild with delight, and +when she discovered that she could further take the magic words and by +setting them forth in orderly fashion express her own thoughts or know +another's thoughts, she was happy beyond description. + +"Father," she panted at that point, her hands clasped before her, her +dark, blue-eyed face flushing and paling, "will you let me go to Master +Farwell to study with the boys?" + +Nathaniel eyed her from the top step of the porch; "with the boys" had +been fatal to the child's request. + +"No," he said firmly, the old light of antagonism glinting suddenly under +his brow, "girls don't need learning past what their mothers can give +them." + +"I--do! I'm willing to suffer and _die_, but I do want to know things." +She was an intense atom, and from the first thought true and straight. + +A sharp memory was in her mind and it lent fervour to her words. It +related to the episode of the small, fat mustard jar which always graced +the middle of the dining table. They had once told her that the contents +of the jar "were not for little girls." + +They had been mistaken. She had investigated, suffered, and learned! +Well, she was ready to suffer--but learn she must! + +Nathaniel shook his head and set forth his scheme of life for her, +briefly and clearly. + +"You'll have nothing but woman ways--bad enough you need them--they will +tame and keep you safe. You'll marry early and find your pleasure and +duty in your home." + +Priscilla turned without another word, but there was an ugly line between +her eyes. + +That night and the next she took the matter before a higher judge, +and fervently, rigidly prayed. On the third night she pronounced +her ultimatum. Kneeling by the tiny gable window of her grim little +bedchamber, her face strained and intense, her big eyes fixed on a red, +pulsing planet above the hemlocks outside, she said: + +"Dear God, I'll give you three days to move his stony heart to let me +go to school; if you don't do it by then, I'm going to worship graven +images!" + +Priscilla at that time was eight, and three days seemed to her a generous +time limit. But Nathaniel's stony heart did not melt, and at the end of +the three days Priscilla ceased to pray for many and many a year, and +forthwith she proceeded to worship a graven image of her own creation. + +A mile up the grassy road, beyond Lonely Farm and on the way toward the +deep woods, was an open space of rich, red rock surrounded by a soft, +feathery fringe of undergrowth and a few well-grown trees. From this spot +one could see the Channel widened out into the Little Bay: the myriad +islands, and, off to the west, the Secret and Fox Portages, beyond which +lay the Great Bay, where the storms raged and the wind--such wind as +Kenmore never knew--howled and tore like a raging fiend! + +In this open stretch of trees and rock Priscilla set up her own god. She +had found the bleached skull of a cow in one of her father's pastures; +this gruesome thing mounted upon a forked stick, its empty eye-sockets +and ears filled with twigs and dried grasses, was sufficiently pagan +and horrible to demand an entirely unique form of worship, and this +Priscilla proceeded to evolve. She invented weird words, meaningless but +high-sounding; she propitiated her idol with wild dances and an abandon +of restraint. Before it she had moments of strange silence when, with +wonder-filled eyes, she waited for suggestion and impression by which to +be guided. Very young was she when intuitively she sensed the inner call +that was always so deeply to sway her. Through the years from eight to +fourteen Priscilla worshipped more or less frequently before her secret +shrine. The uncanny ceremony eased many an overstrained hour and did for +the girl what should have been done in a more normal way. The place on +the red rock became her sanctuary. To it she carried her daily task of +sewing and dreamed her long dreams. + +The Glenns rarely went to church--the distance was too great--but +Nathaniel, looming high and stern across the table in the bare kitchen, +morning and night, set forth the rigid, unlovely creed of his belief. +This fell upon Priscilla's unheeding ears, but the hours before the +shrine were deeply, tenderly religious, although they were bright and +merry hours. + +Of course, during the years, there were the regular Kenmore happenings +that impressed the girl to a greater or lesser degree, but they were like +pictures thrown upon a screen--they came, they went, while her inner +growth was steady and sure. + +Two families, one familiar and commonplace, the other more mystical than +anything else, interested Priscilla mightily during her early youth. +Jerry and Michael McAlpin, with little Jerry-Jo, the son of old Jerry, +were vital factors in Kenmore. They occupied the exalted position of +rural expressmen, and distributed, when various things did not interfere, +the occasional freight and mail that survived the careless methods of the +vicinity. + +The McAlpin brothers were hard drinkers, but they were most considerate. +When Jerry indulged, Michael remained sober and steady; when Michael fell +before temptation, Jerry pulled himself together in a marvellous way, and +so, as a firm, they had surmounted every inquiry and suspicion of a +relentless government and were welcomed far and wide, not only for their +legitimate business, but for the amount of gossip and scandal they +disbursed along with their load. Jerry-Jo, the son of the older McAlpin, +was four years older than Priscilla and was the only really young +creature who had ever entered her life intimately. + +The other family, of whom the girl thought vaguely, as she might have of +a story, were the Travers of the Far Hill Place. + +Now it might seem strange to more social minds that people from a distant +city could come summer after summer to the same spot and yet remain +unknown to their nearest neighbours; but Kenmore was not a social +community. It had all the reserve of its English heritage combined with +the suspicion of its Indian taint, and it took strangers hard. Then, +added to this, the Traverses aroused doubt, for no one, especially +Nathaniel Glenn, could account for a certain big, heavy-browed man who +shared the home life of the Hill Place without any apparent right or +position. For Mrs. Travers, Glenn had managed to conjure up a very actual +distrust. She was too good-looking and free-acting to be sound; and her +misshapen and delicate son was, so the severe man concluded, a curse, in +all probability, for past offences. The youth of Kenmore was straight and +hearty, unless--and here Nathaniel recalled his superstitions--dire +vengeance was wreaked on parents through their offspring. + +With no better reason than this, and with the stubbornness he mistook for +strength, Glenn would have nothing to do with his neighbours, four miles +back in the woods, and had forbidden the sale of milk and garden stuff to +them. + +All this Priscilla had heard, as children do, but she had never seen any +member of the family from the Far Hill Place, and mentally relegated them +to the limbo of the damned under the classification of "them, from the +States." Their name, even, was rarely mentioned, and, while curiosity +often swayed her, temptation had never overruled obedience. + +The McAlpins, with all their opportunity and qualifications, found little +about the strangers from which to make talk. The family were reserved, +and Tough Pine, the Indian guide they had impressed into summer service, +was either bought or, from natural inclination, kept himself to himself. + +So, until the summer when she was fourteen, Priscilla Glenn knew less +about the Far Hill people than she did about the inhabitants of heaven +and hell, with whom her father was upon such intimate and familiar terms. + +Once, when Priscilla was ten, something had occurred which prepared her +for following events. It was a bright morning and the McAlpin boat +stopped at the wharf of Lonely Farm. While old Jerry went to the +farmhouse with a package, Jerry-Jo remained on guard deeply engrossed in +a book he had extracted from a box beneath the seat. He appeared not to +notice Priscilla, who ran down the path to greet him in friendly fashion. + +The boy was about fifteen then, and all the bloods of his various +ancestors were warring in his veins. His mother had been a full-blooded +Indian from Wyland Island, had drawn her four dollars every year from the +English Government, and ruled her family with an iron hand; his father +was Scotch-Irish, hot-blooded and jovial; Jerry-Jo was a composite +result. Handsome, moody, with flashes of fun when not crossed, a good +comrade at times, an unforgiving enemy. + +He liked Priscilla, but she was his inferior, by sex, and she sorely +needed discipline. He meant to keep her in her place, so he kept on +reading. Priscilla at length, however, attracted his attention. + +"Hey-ho, Jerry-Jo!" + +"Hullo!" + +"Where did you get the book?" + +"It's for him up yonder." + +And with this Jerry-Jo stood up, turned and twisted his lithe body into +such a grotesque distortion that he was quite awful to look upon, and +left no doubt in the girl's mind as to whom he referred. He brought the +Far Hill people into focus, sharply and suddenly. + +"He has miles of books," Jerry-Jo went on, "and a fiddle and pictures and +gewgaws. He plays devil tunes, and he's bewitched!" + +This description made the vague boy of the woods real and vital for the +first time in Priscilla's life, and she shuddered. Then Jerry-Jo +generously offered to lend her one of the books until his father came +back, and Priscilla eagerly stepped from stone to stone until she could +reach the volume. Once she had obtained the prize she went back to the +garden and made herself comfortable, wholly forgetting Jerry-Jo and the +world at large. + +It was the oddest book she had ever seen. The words were arranged in +charming little rows, and when you read them over and over they sang +themselves into your very heart. They told you, lilting along, of a road +that no one but you ever knew--a road that led in and out through wonders +of beauty and faded at the day's end into your heart's desire. Your +Heart's Desire! + +And just then Jerry-Jo cried: + +"Hey, there! you, Priscilla, come down with that book." + +"Your Heart's Desire!" Priscilla's eyes were misty as she repeated the +words. Indeed, one large, full tear escaped the blue eyes and lay like a +pitiful kiss on the fair page, where there was a broad, generous space +for tears on either side of the lines. + +"Hist! Father's coming!" + +Then Priscilla stood up and a demon seemed to possess her. + +"I'm not going to give it back to you! It's mine!" she cried shrilly. + +Jerry-Jo made as if he were about to dash up the path and annihilate her, +but she stayed him by holding the book aloft and calling: + +"If you do I'll throw it in the Channel!" She looked equal to it, too, +and Jerry-Jo swore one angry word and stopped short. Then the girl's mood +changed. Quite gently and noiselessly she ran to Jerry-Jo and held the +opened book toward him. His keen eye fell upon the tear-stain, but his +coarser nature wrongly interpreted it. + +"You imp!" he cried; "you spat upon it!" + +But Priscilla shook her head. "No--it's a tear," she explained; "and, oh! +Jerry-Jo, it is mine--listen!--you cannot take it away from me." + +And standing there upon the rock she repeated the words of the poem, her +rich voice rising and falling musically, and poor Jerry-Jo, hypnotized by +that which he could not comprehend, listened open-mouthed. + + * * * * * + +And now, again, it was spring and Priscilla was fourteen. Standing in the +garden path, her yoke across her shoulders, her ears straining at the +sound she heard, the old poem returned to her as it had not for years. +She faltered over the words at the first attempt, but with the second +they rushed vividly to her mind and seemed set to the music of that +"pat-pat-pat" sound on the water. An unaccountable excitement seized +her--that new but thrilling sense of nearness and kinship to life and the +lovely meaning of spring. She was no longer a little girl looking on at +life; she was part of it; and something was going to happen after the +long shut-in winter! + +And presently the McAlpin boat came in sight around Lone Tree Island +and in it stood Jerry-Jo quite alone, paddling straight for the +landing-place! For a moment Priscilla hardly knew him. The winter +had worked a wonder upon him. He was almost a man! He had the manners, +too, of his kind--he ignored the girl on the rocks. + +But he had seen her; seen her before she had seen him. He had noted +the wonderful change in her, for eighteen is keen about fourteen, +particularly when fourteen is full of promise and belongs, in a +sense, to one. + +The short, ugly frock Priscilla wore could not hide the beauty and grace +of her young body--the winter had wiped out forever her awkward length of +limb. Her reddish hair was twisted on the top of her head and made her +look older and more mature. Her uplifted face had the shining radiancy +that was its chief charm, and as Jerry-Jo looked he was moved to +admiration, and for that very reason he assumed indifference and gave +undivided attention to his boat. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +With skill and grace Jerry-Jo steered his boat to the landing-place at +the foot of the garden. He leaped out and tied the rope to the ring in +the rocks, then he waited for Priscilla to pay homage, but Priscilla was +so absorbed with her own thoughts that she overlooked the expected +tribute of sex to sex. At last Jerry-Jo stood upright, legs wide apart, +hands in pockets, and, with bold, handsome face thrown back, cried: + +"Well, there!" + +At this Priscilla started, gave a light laugh, and readjusting her yoke, +walked down to the young fellow below. + +"It's Jerry-Jo," she said slowly, still held by the change in him; "and +alone!" + +"Yes." Jerry-Jo gave a gleaming smile that showed all his strong, white +teeth--long, keen teeth they were, like the fangs of an animal. + +"Where are the others?" asked Priscilla. + +"Uncle's dead," the boy returned promptly and cheerfully; "dead, and a +good thing. He was getting cranky." + +Priscilla started back as if the mention of death on that glorious day +cast a cloud and a shadow. + +"And your father, Jerry-Jo, is he, too, dead?" + +"No. Dad, he is in jail!" + +"In--jail!" Never in her life before had Priscilla known of any one being +in Kenmore jail. The red, wooden house behind its high, stockade fence +was at once the pride and relic of the place. To have a jail and never +use it! What more could be said for the peaceful virtues of a community? + +"Yes. Dad's in jail and in jail he will stay, says he, till them as put +him there begs his pardon humble and proper." + +Priscilla now dropped the yoke upon the rocks and gave her entire thought +to Jerry-Jo, who, she could see, was bursting with importance and a sense +of the dramatic. + +"What did your father do, Jerry-Jo?" + +"It was like this: Uncle Michael died and the wake we had for him was the +most splendid you ever saw. Bottles and kegs from the White Fish and +money to pay for all, too! Every one welcome and free to say his say and +drink his fill. I got drunk myself! Long about midnight Big Hornby he +said as how he once licked Uncle Michael, and Dad he cried back that to +blacken a man's name when he was too dead to stand up for it was a dirty +trick, and so it was! Then it was forth and back for a time, with +compliments and what not, and if you please just as Dad sent a bit of a +stool at Big Hornby, who should come in at the door but Mr. Schoolmaster, +him as had no invite and was not wanted! The stool took him full on the +arm and broke it--the arm--and folks took sides, and some one, after a +bit, got Dad from under the pile and tried to make him beg pardon! Beg +pardon at his own wake in his own home, and Schoolmaster taking chances +coming when he was not invited! Umph!" + +Jerry-Jo's eyes flashed superbly. + +"'I'll go to jail first and be damned,' said Dad, and that put it in the +mind of Big Hornby, and he up and says, 'To jail with him!' And so they +takes Dad, thinking to scare him, and claps him into jail, not even +mending the lock or nailing up the boards. That's three days since, and +yesterday Hornby he comes to Dad and says as how a steamer was in with +mail and freight and who was to carry it around? And Dad says as how I +was a man now and could hold up the honour of the family, says he, and +moreover, says Dad, 'I'll neither eat nor come out till you come to your +senses and beg pardon for mistaking a joke for an insult!'" + +Jerry-Jo paused to laugh. Then: + +"So here am I with the boatload--there's a box of seeds for your +father--and then I'm off to the Hill Place, for them as stays there has +come, and there are boxes and packages for them as usual." + +Jerry-Jo proceeded to extract Mr. Glenn's box from the boat, and +Priscilla, her clear skin flushed with excitement, drew near to examine +the cargo. + +"More books!" she gasped. "Oh, Jerry-Jo, do you remember the first book?" + +"Do I?" Jerry-Jo had shouldered the box of seeds and now bent upon the +girl a glad, softened look. + +"Do I? You was a wild thing then, Priscilla. And I told him about the +slob of a tear and he laughed in his big, queer way, and he said, I +remember well, that by that token the book was more yours than his, and +he wanted me to carry it back, but I knew what was good for you, and I +would not! See here, Priscilla, would you like to have a peek at this?" +And then Jerry-Jo put his burden down, and, returning to the boat, drew +from under the seat a book in a clean separate wrapper and held it out +toward her. + +"Oh!" The hands were as eager as of old. + +"What will you give for it?" A deep red mounted to the young fellow's +cheeks. + +"Anything, Jerry-Jo." + +"A--kiss?" + +"Yes"--doubtfully; "yes." + +The book was in the outstretched hands, the hot kiss lay upon the smooth, +girlish neck, and then they looked at each other. + +"It--is _his_ book?" + +"No. Yours--I sent for it, myself." + +"Oh! Jerry-Jo. And how did you know?" + +"I copied it from that one of his." + +Priscilla tore the wrappings asunder and saw that the book was a +duplicate of the one over which, long ago, she had loved and wept. + +"Thank you, Jerry-Jo," the voice faltered; "but I wish it--had the tear +spot." + +"That was _his_ book; this is yours." An angry light flashed in +Jerry-Jo's eyes. He had arranged this surprise with great pains and had +used all his savings. + +"But it cannot be the same, Jerry-Jo. Thank you--but----" + +"Give us another kiss?" The young fellow begged. + +Priscilla drew back and held out the book. + +"No." She was ready to relinquish the poems, but she would not buy them. + +"Keep the book--it's yours." + +Jerry-Jo scowled. And then he shouldered the box and ran up the path. +When he came back Priscilla was gone, and the spring day seemed +commonplace and dull to Jerry-Jo; the adventure was over. Priscilla had +filled her pails and had carried them and the book to the house. +Something had happened to her, also. She was out of tune with the +sunlight and warmth; she wanted to get close to life again and feel, as +she had earlier, the kinship and joy, but the mood had passed. + +It was after the dishes of the midday meal were washed that she bethought +her of the old shrine back near the woods. It was many a day since she +had been there--not since the autumn before--and she felt old and +different, but still she had a sudden desire to return to it and try +again the mystic rite she had practised when she was a little girl. It +was like going back to play, to be sure; all the sacredness was gone, but +the interest remained, and her yearning spurred her to her only resource. + +At two o'clock Nathaniel was off to a distant field, and Theodora +announced that she must walk to the village for a bit of "erranding." She +wanted Priscilla to join her, thinking it would please the girl, but +Priscilla shook her head and pleaded a weariness that was more mental +than physical. At three o'clock, arrayed in a fresh gown, over which hung +a red cape, Priscilla stole from the house and made her way to the +opening near the woods. As she drew close the power of suggestion +overcame the new sense of age and indifference; the witchery of the place +held her; the old charm reasserted itself; she was being hypnotized by +the Past. Tiptoeing to the niche in the rock she drew away the sheltering +boughs and branches she had placed there one golden September day. The +leaves had been red and yellow then; they were stiff and brown now. The +leering skull confronted her as it had in the past and changed her at +once to the devotee. + +Before the dead thing the live, lovely creature bowed gravely. After all, +had not the image, instead of God, answered her first prayer? Nathaniel's +heart had not been softened and school had not been permitted, but there +had been lessons given by the master when she told him of her new god. +How he had laughed, clapping his knees with his long, thin, white hands! +But he had taught her on hillside and woodland path. No one knew this but +themselves and the strange idol! + +A rapt look spread over Priscilla's face; the look of the worshipper who +could lose self in a passion. But this was no dread god that demanded +unlovely sacrifice. It was a glad creature that desired laughter, song, +and dance. Priscilla had seen to that. A repetition of her father's creed +would have been unendurable. + +"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +Again the deep and sweeping courtesy and chanting of the weird words. The +final "dosh!" held, in its low, fierce tone, all the significance of +abject adoration. With that "dosh" had the child Priscilla wooed the +favour and recognition of the god. It was a triumph of appeal. + +And then the dance began--the wild, fantastic steps full of grace and joy +and the fury and passion of youth. Round and round spun the slight form, +with arms over head or spread wide. The red cape floated, rising and +falling; the uplifted face changed with every moment's flitting thought. +It was a beautiful thing, that dance, grotesque, pagan, and yet divine, +and through it all, panting and pulsing, sounded the strange, +incomprehensible words: + +"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +While the rite was at high tide a young fellow, lying prone under a +clump of trees beyond the open space, looked on, first in amaze mingled +with amusement, and then with delight and admiration. He had never +seen anything at once so heathenish and so exquisite. To one hampered +and restricted as he was in bodily freedom, the absolute grace was +marvellous, but the uncanny words and the girl's apparent seriousness +gave a touch of unreality to the scene. Presently, from sheer inability +to further control himself, the looker-on gave a laugh that rent the +stillness of the afternoon like a cruel shock. + +Priscilla, horrified, paused in the midst of a wild whirl and listened, +her eyes dilating, her nostrils twitching. She waited for another burst +that would make her understand. + +Having given vent to that one peal of mirth, Richard Travers pulled +himself to a sitting position, and, by so doing, presented his head and +shoulders to the indignant eyes of Priscilla Glenn. + +"Oh!" cried she; "how dare you!" + +And now Travers got rather painfully upon his feet, and, with fiddle +under one arm and book under the other, came forward into the open and +inclined his uncovered head. He was twenty then, fair and handsome, and +in his gray eyes shone that kindliness that was doomed later on to bring +him so much that was both evil and good. + +"I beg your pardon. I did not know I was on sacred ground. I just +happened here, you see, and I could not help the laugh; it was the only +compliment I could pay for anything so lovely--so utterly lovely." + +Priscilla melted at once and fear fled. Not for an instant did she +connect this handsome fellow with the crooked wrongdoer of the Hill +Place. Jerry-Jo's long-ago description had been too vivid to be +forgotten, and this stranger was one to charm and win confidence. + +"Will you--oh! please do--let me play for you? You dance like a nymph. Do +you know what a nymph is?" + +Priscilla shook her head. + +"Well, it's the only thing that can dance like you; the only thing that +should ever be allowed to dance in the woods. Come, now, listen sharp, +and as I play, keep step." + +Leaning against a strong young hemlock, Dick Travers placed his fiddle +and struck into a giddy, tuneful thing as picturesque as the time and +occasion. With head bent to one side and eyes and lips smiling, Priscilla +listened until something within her caught and responded to the tripping +notes. At first she went cautiously, feeling her way after the enchanted +music, then she gained courage, and the very heart of her danced and +trembled in accord. + +"Fine! fine! Now--slower; see it's the nymph stepping this way and that! +Forward, so! Now!" + +And then, exhausted and laughing madly, Priscilla sank down upon a rock +near the musician, who, seeing her worn and panting, played on, without +a word, a sweet, sad strain that brought tears to the listener's +eyes--tears of absolute enjoyment and content. She had never heard music +before in all her bleak, colourless life, and Dick Travers was no mean +artist, in his way. + +"And now," he said presently, sitting down a few feet from her, "just +tell me who you are and what in the world prompts you to worship, so +adorably, that hideous brute over there?" + +Between fourteen and twenty lies a chasm of age and experience that +ensures patronage to one and dependence to the other. Travers felt aged +and protecting, but Priscilla grew impish and perverse; besides, she +always intuitively shielded her real self until she capitulated entirely. +This was a new play, a new comrade, but she must be cautious. + +"I--I have no name--he made me!" She nodded toward the grinning skull. +"On bright sunny afternoons in spring, when flowers and green things are +beginning to live, he lets me dance, once in a great while, so that I can +keep alive!" + +Priscilla, with this, gave such a beaming and mischievous smile that +Travers was bewitched. + +"You----" But he did not put his thought into words; he merely gave smile +for smile, and asked: + +"Did he teach you to dance?" + +"No. The dance is--is me! That's why he likes me. He's so dead that he +likes to see something that is alive." + +"The whole world would adore you could it see you as I just have!" + +Then Travers, with the artist's eye, wondered how dark hair could +possibly hold such golden tints, and how such a dark face could make +lovely the blue, richly lashed eyes. He knew she must be from Lonely +Farm--Jerry-Jo used to speak of her; lately he had said nothing, to be +sure, but this certainly must be the child who had once cried over a +book of his. Poor, little, temperamental beggar! + +"Come up and deliver!" Travers gave a laugh. "I'm Robin Hood and I want +you to explain yourself. Why do you bow down before that brazen and +evil-looking brute?" + +Priscilla hugged her knees in her clasped hands, and said, on the +defence: + +"He's the only god that answered my prayer. I tried father's God and--it +didn't work! Then I fixed up this one, and--it did!" + +"What was it you wanted?" + +"I wanted to learn things! I wanted to go to school. I prayed to have +father's heart softened, but it stayed--rocky. Then I began to worship +this"--the right hand waved toward the bleached and grinning skull--"and +my wish came true. I told the schoolmaster. Do you know Mr. Anton +Farwell?" + +"I've heard of him." + +"I told him I wanted to learn, and after he got through laughing he said +he'd been sent by my god to teach me all I wanted to know; but of course +he can't do that!" + +"Do what?" Travers was fascinated by the child's naivety. + +"Teach me all I want to know. Why, I'm going to suffer and know many +things!" + +"Good Lord!" ejaculated Travers; "you won't mind if I laugh?" + +"I don't think there's anything to laugh at!" Priscilla held him sternly. +"Have you ever suffered?" + +The laugh died from Travers's face. + +"Suffered!" he repeated. "Yes! yes!" + +"Well, doesn't it pay--when you get what you want and know things?" + +"Why, see here, youngster--it does! You've managed to dig out of your +life quite a brilliant philosophy, though I suppose you do not know what +that is. It's holding to your ideal, the thing that seems most worth +while, and forcing everything else into line with that. Now, you see I +had a bad handicap--a clutch on me that made me a weak, sickly fellow, +but through it all I kept my ideal." + +Priscilla was listening bravely. She was following this thought as she +had the music; something in her was responding. She did not speak, and +Travers went on talking, more to himself than to her. + +"Always before the poor thing I really was, walked the fine thing I would +be. I _thought_ myself straight and strong and clean. Lord! how it hurt +sometimes; but I grew, after a time, into something approaching the ideal +going on before me, thinking high and strong thoughts, forgetting the +meannesses and aches--do you understand?" + +This was a fairy story to the listener. Rigid and spellbound she replied: + +"Yes. And that's what I've been doing--and nobody knew. I've just been +working hard for that _me_ of _me_ that I always see. I don't care what +I have to suffer, but--" the throbbing words paused--"I'm going to know +what--it is all about!" + +"It?" Again Travers was bewildered and bound. + +"Yes. Life and me and what we mean. I'm not going to stay here; when the +lure of the States gets me I'm--going!" + +Things were getting too tense, and Travers yielded to a nervous impulse +to laugh again. This brought a frown to Priscilla's brow. + +"Forgive me!" he pleaded. "And now see here, little pagan, let us make +a compact. Let us keep our ideals; don't let anything take them from us. +Is it a go?" + +He stretched his hand out, and the small, brown one lay frankly in it. + +"And we'll come here and--and worship before that fiend, just you and I? +And we won't ever tell?" + +Priscilla nodded. + +"And now will you dance once more, just once?" + +The girl bounded from the rock, and before the bow struck the strings she +was poised and ready. Then it was on again, that strange, wild game. The +notes rang clear and true, and as true tripped the twinkling feet. With +head bent and eyes riveted on the graceful form, Travers urged her on by +word and laugh, and he did not heed a shadow which fell across the +sunlighted, open space, until Priscilla stopped short, and a deep voice +trembling with emotion roared one word: + +"You!" + +There stood Nathaniel Glenn, his face twitching with anger and something +akin to fear. How much he had heard no one could tell, but he had heard +and seen enough to arouse alarm and suspicion. In his hand was a long +lash whip, and, as Priscilla did not move, he raised it aloft and sent it +snapping around the rigid figure. + +It did not touch her, but the act called forth all the resentment and +fierce indignation of the young fellow who looked on. + +"Stop!" he shouted. Then, because he sought for words to comfort and +could think of no others, he said to Priscilla, "Don't let them kill your +ideal; hold to it in spite of everything!" + +"Yes," the words came slowly, defiantly, "I'm going to!" + +"Go!" Nathaniel was losing control. "Go--you!" + +Then, as if waking from sleep, the girl turned, and with no backward +look, went her way, Nathaniel following. + +Travers, exhausted from the excitement, stretched himself once more upon +the mossy spot from which Priscilla had roused him. He was sensitive to +every impression and quivering in every nerve. + +What he had witnessed turned him ill with loathing and contempt. +Brutality in any form was horrible to him, and the thought of the pretty, +spiritual child under the control of the coarse, stern man was almost +more than he could bear. Then memory added fuel to the present. It was +that man who had conjured up some kind of opposition to his mother--had +made living problems harder for her until she had won the confidence of +others. The man must be, Travers concluded, a fanatic and an ignoramus, +and to think of him holding power over that sprite of the woods! + +He could not quite see how he might help the girl, but, lying there, her +dancing image flitting before his pitying eyes, he meant to outwit the +rough father in some way, and bring into the child's life a bit of +brightness. Then he smiled and his easy good nature returned. + +"I'll get her to dance for me, never fear! I'll teach her to love music, +and I'll tell her stories. I must get her to explain about the lure of +the States. What on earth could the little beggar have meant? It sounded +as if she thought America had some sinister clutch on the Dominion. And +those infernal-sounding words!" + +Travers shook with laughter. "That '_dosh_' was about the most +blasphemous thing I ever listened to. In a short space of time that child +managed to cram in more new ideas, words, and acts than any one I've ever +met before. I shouldn't wonder if she proves a character." + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The day of warmth and song and dance changed to a cool evening. There was +a glowing sunset which faded into a clear, starry night. + +Dick Travers, encased in a heavy sweater, lingered, after the light +failed, on the broad piazza facing the still purpled sky, and looked out +toward the Georgian Bay, which was hidden from sight by the ridge of hill +through which the Fox and Secret Portages cut. The mood of the afternoon +had fallen, as had the day, into calmness and restfulness. The fiddle, +which was never far from Travers, lay now beside him on the deep porch +swing, and every few moments he took it up and began an air that broke +off almost at once, either to run into another, or into silence. + +"Choppy," muttered Doctor Ledyard as he sat across the hearth from his +hostess and looked now at her fair, tranquil face and then at the +cheerful fire of hemlock boughs. + +"He's always happiest when he's--choppy." Helen Travers smiled. "I wonder +why I take your words as I take your pills, without question?" + +"You know what's good for you." + +"And so you really think there is no doubt about Dick? He can enter +college this fall?" + +"As sure as any man can be. He'll always be a trifle lame probably, +though that will be less noticeable when he learns to forget the cane and +crutch periods; as for his health--it's ripping, for him!" + +"How wonderful you have been; what a miracle you have performed. When I +recall----" + +"Don't, Helen! It's poor business retracing a hard road unless you go +back to pick something up." + +"That's why--I must go back. Doctor Ledyard, I must tell you something! +Now that Dick's semi-exile and mine are to end in the common highway, he +and--you must know why I have done many things--will you listen?" + +From under Ledyard's shaggy brows his keen eyes flashed. There had been +a time when he had hoped Helen Travers would love him; he had loved +her since her husband's death, but he had never spoken, for he knew +intuitively that to do so would be to risk the only thing of which he +was, then, sure--her trusting friendship. He had not dared put that to +the test even for the greater hope. That was why he had been able to +share her lonely life in the Canadian wilds--she had never been disturbed +by a doubt of him. And this comradeship, safe and assured, was the one +luxury he permitted himself in a world where he was looked upon as a +hard, an almost cruel, man. + +"I do not want you to tell anything in order to explain your actions +now, or ever. I am confident that under all circumstances you would act +wisely. You are the most normal woman I ever knew." + +"Thank you. But I still must speak--more for Dick than for you. I need +your help for him." + +Outside, the fiddle was repeating again and again a nocturne that Helen +particularly loved. + +"Dick is not--my son!" she said quickly and softly from out the shadows. +She was rarely abrupt, and her words startled Ledyard into alertness. He +got up and drew his chair close to hers. + +"What did you say?" he whispered, keeping his eyes upon her lowered face. + +"I said--Dick is not my son." + +"And--whose is he--may I ask?" + +There was a tenseness in the question. Now that he saw the gravity of the +confession Ledyard wished beyond all else to cut quick and deep and then +bind up the wound. + +"He is the child of--my husband, and--another woman." + +In the hush that followed, Dick's fiddle, running now through a delicious +strain of melody, seemed like a current bearing them on. + +"Perhaps you had better--tell me," Ledyard was saying, and his words +blended strangely with the tune. "Yes, I am sure you ought to tell me." + +Helen Travers, sitting in her low wicker chair, did not move. Her +delicate face was resting on the tips of her clasped hands, and her long, +loose, white gown seemed to gather and hold the red glow of the fire. + +"I suppose I have done Dick a bitter wrong, but at first, you know, even +you thought he could not live and so it would not have mattered, and then +I--I learned to love the helpless little chap as women of my sort do who +have to make their own lives as best they may. He clung to me so +desparately, and, you see, as he grew older I either had to accept his +belief in me or--or--take his father from him. They were such close +friends, Dick's father and he! And now--I must lay everything low, and I +am wondering what will come of it all. He is such a strange fellow; our +life apart has left him--well, so different! How will he take it?" + +Whatever her own personal sorrow was, Helen Travers made no moan, exacted +no sympathy. She had come alone to the parting of the ways, and she had +thought only for the boy whom she had mothered tenderly and successfully. +Ledyard did not interrupt the gentle flow of her thoughts. There was +time; he would not startle or hurry her, although her first statement had +shocked and surprised him beyond measure. + +"I've always thought of myself as like one of those poor Asiatic +hornbills," she was saying. "It seems to me that all my life long some +one has walled me up in a nice, safe nest and fed me through my longings +and desires. I cannot get to life first hand. I'm not stupid exactly, but +I am terribly limited." Helen paused, then went on more rapidly: "First +it was my father. He and I travelled after mother's death continually, +and alone. He educated me and interpreted life for me; he was a man of +the world, I suppose, but he managed to keep me most unworldly wise. Of +course I knew, abstractly, the lights and shadows; but I wonder if you +will believe me when I tell you that, until after my marriage, I never +suspected that--that certain codes of honour and dishonour had place in +the lives of those closest to me? The evil of the world was classified +and pigeon-holed for me. I even had ambition to get out of my walled-up +condition and help some mystical people, detached and far from my safe, +clean corner. Father left me more money than was good for any young +woman, and my simple impulse was to use it properly." + +"You were very young?" Ledyard interrupted. + +Helen Travers shook her head. + +"Not very. I was twenty-four when I married. I had never had but one +intimate friend in my life, and to her I went at my father's death. It +was her brother I married--John Travers." + +Ledyard nodded his head; he knew of the Traverses--the older generation. + +"This thing concerning Dick occurred some three or four years before my +marriage. My wedding was a very quiet one; it was not reported, and that +accounted for Dick's mother--Elizabeth Thornton--not knowing of it. + +"It seems that there had been an alliance between John Travers and--and +Dick's mother, and it had been terminated some time before he met me, by +mutual consent. There was the child--Dick. The mother took him. There was +no question of money: there was enough for them, but she had told John +that should anything arise, such as illness or disaster, she would call +upon him. They had sworn that to each other. + +"Well, my own baby came a year after my marriage and died a month later. +When I was least able to bear the shock, the call came from Elizabeth +Thornton. John had to tell me. I shall never forget his face as he did +it. I realized that his chief concern was for me, and even in all the +wreck and ruin I could but honour him for his bravery and sincerity. I +think he believed I would understand, but I never did; I never shall. The +shock was more surprise than moral resentment. I could not believe at +first that such a thing could possibly happen to--one of my own. I felt +as if a plague had fallen upon me, and I shrank from every eye, from +every touch with the world. + +"Doctor Ledyard, you can understand, I hope, but John Travers was not a +bad man, and that girl, Dick's mother, was good. Yes; that's the only +word to use, strange as it seems to me even after all these years. You +see, she was not a hornbill. She came in touch with life at first hand; +she took from life what she wanted; she had, what were to me, unheard-of +ideas about love and the free gift of self, and yet she never meant to +hurt any one; and she had kept herself, amid all the confusion, the +gentlest and sweetest of souls. + +"When she sent for John she was dying and she did not know what to do +about the boy. She had no family--no near friend. + +"I went with my husband to see her. There did not seem to be anything +else to do. I had no feeling; it was plain duty. Even with the touch of +death upon her, Elizabeth Thornton was the most beautiful woman I have +ever seen. I cannot describe the sensation she made upon me; but she was +like an innocent, pure child who had played with harmful and soiled toys +but had come wearily to the day's end, herself unsullied. + +"When she knew about me she was broken-hearted. She wept and called to +little Dick, who sat in a small chair by her couch: + +"'Oh! little son, we could have managed, couldn't we? We would not have +hurt any one for the world, would we, sonny?' And the boy got up and +soothed her as a man might have done, and he was only a little creature. +I think I loved him from the moment I saw him shielding that poor, dying +mother from her own folly. 'Course, mummy, course!' he repeated over and +again. Then he looked at me with the eyes of my own dead baby. Both +children were startlingly like the father. The look pleaded for mercy +from me to them--John, the mother, and the little fellow himself. And I, +who had vaguely meant to help the world some day, began--with them! Just +for a little time after Elizabeth Thornton's death I became human, or +perhaps inhuman. I resented the wrong that had been done me; I wanted to +fling John and the child away from me; but then a sense of power rallied +me. I had never tasted it before. I could cast the helpless pair from me, +or--I could save them from the world and the world's hideous pity for me. +I accepted the burden laid upon me. I think John thought I would forget, +would forgive. I cannot explain--my sort of woman is never understood +by--well, John's sort of man. I am afraid he grew to have a contempt for +me, but I lived on loving them both, but never becoming able to meet +John's hope of me. I knew he was often lonely--I have pitied him +since--but I could not help being what I was. + +"I tried, but it was no use. We lived abroad for years, and little Dick +forgot--I am sure he forgot--his mother, and when I felt secure I gave +him all, all the passion and devotion of my life. + +"John died abroad; I came home with my crippled boy; came home to--you. +That is all!" + +Ledyard bent and laid a handful of boughs upon the fire. The room was +cold and cheerless, and the still, white figure in the chair seemed the +quiet, chill heart of it all. And yet--how she had loved and laboured for +the boy! Was she passionless or had her passion been killed while at +white heat? + +"And--and I suppose Dick must know?" + +"Yes. Dick must know." + +There was no sternness, but there was determination in the strong, even +voice. Then: + +"Helen, let me do this for you!" + +For a moment the uplifted eyes faltered and fell away from the man's +face. Very faintly the words came: + +"God bless you! I could not bear to see--him fail me. If he must--fail, +I cannot see him until--afterward." + +The blaze rose higher, and the dark room was a background for that +deathlike form before the hearth. + +Ledyard left the room silently, and a moment later Helen Travers heard +his heavy footfall on the porch outside. Presently the erratic violin +playing ceased and there seemed no sound on the face of the earth. + +After what seemed hours, Pine, the guide, entered the room to replenish +the fire, and Helen told him he need not light the lamps. After his going +another aching silence followed through which, at last, stole the +consciousness that she was not alone. Some one had come into the room +from a long window opening on the piazza. Helen dared not look, for if it +were Ledyard she would know that things were very bad indeed. Then came +the slightly dragging step that she had learned to be so grateful for +after the helplessness of crippled childhood. Still she did not move, nor +deeply hope. The boy was kind, oh! so tenderly kind, he might only have +come because he must! + +The red glow of the fire made the woman's form by the hearth vividly +distinct, and toward that Dick Travers went as if led by a gleam through +a new and strange experience. He knelt by her side and, for a moment, +buried his face against her clasped hands; then he looked up and she saw +only intensified love and trust upon his young face. She waited for him +to speak, her heart was choking her. + +"You thought, dear, that I did not know--that I had forgotten? I wonder +if any lonely, burdened little chap could forget--what came before you +lifted the load and taught me to be a--child? Oh! she was so sweet; such +a playfellow. I realize it now even though she has faded into something +like a shadowy dream. But I recall, too, the loneliness; the fear that +she might leave me alone with no one to care for me. I can remember her +fear, too; always the fear that one of us might leave the other alone. +The recollection will always stand out in my memory. I shall never forget +her nor her sweetness. Afterward you came and my father. Only lately have +I understood all of--that part of my life and yours--but I knew he was my +father, and I wondered about you, because I could _not_ forget--my +mother! + +"I learned to love you out of my great need and out of yours, too, I +realize now, and slowly, far too early, I saw that the happiest thing I +could do for you, who had given me so much, was to seem to forget and +rest only on one thought--you were my mother! Can I make you understand, +mother, what you are in my life--to-night?" + +He kissed the cold hands clutching his hot ones, and with that touch the +barrier broke down forever between them. Travers took her in his arms, +but she did not burden his young strength as the earlier mother had done. +Even in her abandon, they supported each other bravely. + + * * * * * + +The days that followed were busy ones. Dick's tutor came from New York, +plans were laid, and there was small opportunity, just then, for the +red-rock shrine. + +"You see," Dick said to Ledyard one afternoon, "I've never voiced it +before--it seemed presumptuous--but now that I'm going to have the life +of a fellow, I can choose a fellow's career. I want, more than anything +else, to be a physician." + +Ledyard's eyes flashed, but he lowered his lids. + +"It's a devil of a life, boy." + +"I think it's the finest of all." + +"No hours you can call your own; never daring to ask for the common +things a man cares for. You see, women are mostly too jealous and small +to understand a doctor's demands. They usually raise hell sooner or +later. I had a friend whose wife used to look through the keyhole of his +consulting-room door. A patient tripped over her once and it nearly cost +my friend his practice. Doctors are only half human anyway, and women +can't go halves with their husbands." + +Dick laughed. + +"Between a wife and a profession," he said, "give me the profession." + +"Besides," Ledyard went on; "you get toughened and brutal; most of us +drink, when we don't do something worse." + +"You don't." + +"How do you know?" + +"I do know, and I'm sure you wouldn't let any one else say that about +your associates; they're the noblest ever and you know it!" + +"Well, we're bound and gagged, and that's a fact. We're not given much +leeway. We are led up to a case and forced to carry out the rules. While +we're doctors we can't be men." + +Dick recalled that years later with a bitter sense of its truth! + +"All the same, if the profession will have me, I'll have it and thank +God. When I think of--well, of the little cuss I was, and of you--why, +I tell you, I cannot get too soon into harness. I'd like to specialize, +too. I've even gone so far as that." + +"Good Lord! In what?" + +"Oh, women and children, principally--putting them straight and strong, +you know." + +"Umph," grunted Ledyard. "Well, at the first you'll probably be thankful +to get any old case that needs tinkering." + +Dick Travers did not see Priscilla again that summer. After a while he +went to the rocks, and once he laid sacrilegious hands on the strange god +with a longing to smash the hideous skull, but in the end he left it and, +after a time, forgot the girl he had played for, even forgot the +fantastic dance, for his thoughts were of sterner stuff. + +There were guests at the Hill Place, too, for the first time that year, +and some entertainment. There were fishing, and in due season, hunting, +at which Ledyard excelled, and the family returned to the States earlier +than usual, owing to Dick's affairs. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Nathaniel Glenn had said some terrible things in Priscilla's presence the +evening of the day when he drove her before him while Richard Travers +implored her to hold to her ideal. Fortunately, youth spared Priscilla +from a full understanding of her father's words, but she caught the drift +of his thought. She was convinced that he feared greatly for her here on +earth, and had grave doubts as to her soul's ultimate salvation. There +was that within her, so he explained, which, unless curbed and corrected, +would cast her into eternal damnation! Those were Nathaniel's words. + +"She looked a very devil as she danced and smirked at that strange +fellow," so had Glenn described the scene; "a man she says she had never +laid eyes on before! A daughter of Satan she seemed, with all the +witchcraft of her sort." To Nathaniel, that which he could not +understand, was wrong. + +Theodora spoke not a word. Certain facts from all the evidence stood +forth and alarmed her as deeply--though not as bitterly--as they did her +husband. There certainly was a daring and brazenness in a young girl +carrying on so before a total stranger. In all the conversation the name +of the stranger was not mentioned, and oddly enough Priscilla did not +even then connect her friend of the music and laughter with the boy of +the Hill Place. How could she, when Jerry-Jo's description still stood +unchallenged in her mind? Indeed, the stranger did not seem wholly of the +earth, earthy. She had accepted him as another phase evolved by the +mysterious rite--a new revelation of the strange god. + +From all the torrent of misinterpretation Nathaniel gave vent to, one +startling impression remained in Priscilla's mind. Sitting in the bare, +unlovely kitchen of the farmhouse, with her troubled parents confronting +her, a great wave of realization overpowered the girl. She could never +make them understand! There was no need to try. She did not really belong +to them, or they to her, and she must--get away! + +That was it, of course. The lure had caught her. They all felt as she +was now feeling--the Hornbys, all the boys and men who left Kenmore. +Something always drove them to see they must go, and that was what the +lure meant. + +Priscilla laughed. + +As usual, this angered Nathaniel beyond control. + +"You--laugh--you! Why do you laugh?" + +Priscilla leaned back in her hard wooden chair. + +"The lure's got me!" she panted. + +"The--lure?" + +"Yes. It means getting away. You have to follow the lure and find your +true place. Some people are put in the wrong place--then the lure gets +them!" + +At this Theodora gave a moan of understanding. They had driven the child +too far, been too hard upon her, and the impulse to fly from the love +that was seeking to hold her was the one thing to be avoided. + +"I'm tired of things. Once I wanted to go to school, but you wouldn't let +me." The blazing eyes were fixed upon Nathaniel. "You're always trying +to--to hold me back from--from--my life! I want to go away somewhere! +I want"--a half-sob shook the fierce, young voice--"I want to be part +of--things, and you--you won't let me! I hate this--this place; I'm +choking to death!" + +And with this Priscilla got up and flung her arms over her head, while +she ejaculated fiercely: "I want to be--doshed!" + +The effect of this outburst upon the two listeners was tremendous. +Theodora recognized with blinding terror that her daughter was no longer +a child! The knowledge was like a stroke that left her paralyzed. What +could she hope to do with, and for, this new, strange creature in whose +young face rising passion and rebellion were suddenly born? Nathaniel was +awed, too, but he managed to utter the command: "Leave the room, hussy!" + +When the parents were alone they took stock of the responsibility that +was laid upon them. Helplessly Theodora began to cry. She could no more +cope with this situation than a baby. She had never risen above or beyond +the dead level of Kenmore life, and surely no Kenmore woman had ever +borne so unnatural a child. She feared hopelessly and tremblingly. + +With Nathaniel it was different. He was a hard man who had forced +himself, as he had others, along the one grim path, but he had the male's +inheritance of understanding of certain traits and emotions. Had any one +suggested to him that his girl had derived from him--not her colourless +mother--the desire for excitement through the senses, he would have flung +the thought madly from him. Men were men; women were women! Even if +temptation came to a girl, only a bad, an evil-natured girl would +recognize it and succumb. His daughter, Nathaniel firmly believed, was +marked for destruction, and he was frightened and aroused not only for +Priscilla herself but for his reputation and position. He had known +similar temptation; had overcome it. He understood, or thought he did! + +He gave the girl no benefit of doubt; his mind conceived things that +never had occurred. He believed she had often met the young fellow from +the Hill Place. God alone knew what had gone before! + +"What shall we do?" sobbed Theodora. "We cannot make a prisoner of her; +we cannot watch her every move--and she's only a bit over fourteen!" + +Had the girl died that night Nathaniel would not have mourned her, he +would have known only relief and gratitude. + +"She was unwelcomed," he muttered to his weeping wife; "and she has +become a curse to us. It lies with us to turn the punishment into our +souls' good; but what can we do for her?" + +Priscilla did not die that night. She slept peacefully and happily with +the red, pulsing planet over the hemlock shining faithfully upon her. The +next day she reappeared before her parents with a cloudless face and a +willingness to make such amends as could be brought about without too +much self-abnegation. In the broad light of day the mother could not hold +to the horrors of the evening before. She had been nervous and +overwrought; it wasn't so bad as they had thought! + +"I want you to go erranding," she said to Priscilla soon after the midday +meal and by way of propitiation. "It's one by the clock now. Given an +hour to go, another to return, and a half hour for the buying, you should +be back by four at the latest." + +Priscilla looked laughingly up at her mother, "Funny, little mother," she +said; "he's made you afraid of me. Hadn't you better tie a string to my +foot?" But all the time the girl was thinking. "An hour for both going +and coming will be enough, and that will leave an hour for the +schoolmaster." + +Aloud she said: "I was fiercely angry last night, mother, for he read me +wrong and would not believe me, but it made me feel the _lure_; it really +did." + +"You must never speak so again, child," Theodora replied, thinking she +was impressing the girl; "and, Priscilla, what did you mean by saying you +wanted to be--be doshed? That was the most unsanctified word I ever +heard. What does it mean? Where did you learn it?" + +At this Priscilla doubled over with laughter but managed to say: + +"Why, it means just--doshed! Haven't you ever wanted to be doshed, +mother, when you were young, and before father took the dosh out of +you?" + +Theodora was again overcome by former fears, and to confirm her terror +Priscilla sprang toward her with outstretched, gripping fingers and wide, +eager eyes. + +"It means," she breathed, advancing upon her mother's retreating form, +"it means skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +At this she had her mother by the shoulders and was seeking to kiss the +affrighted and appalled face. + +Theodora escaped her, and realized that a changeling had indeed entered +her home. An unknown element was here. It was as if, having been +discovered, Priscilla felt she no longer needed to hide her inner self, +but was giving it full sway. + +If they could only have known that the spring of imagination and joy +had been touched in the girl and merely the madness of youth and the +legitimate yearning for expression moved her! But Theodora did not +understand and she tried to be stern. + +"You are to be back in this house at four!" she cried; "at quarter after +at the latest." + +So Priscilla started forth. The mother watched her from the doorway. +Suspicion was in her heart; she feared the girl would turn toward the +woods; she was prepared for that, but instead, the flying figure made for +the grassy road leading to Kenmore and was soon lost to sight. + +Three miles of level road, much of it smooth, moss-covered rock, was +easy travelling for nimble feet and a glad heart. And Priscilla was +the gladdest creature afield that day. Impishly she was enjoying the +sensation she had created. It appealed to her dramatic sense and animal +enjoyment. In some subtle fashion she realized she had balked and +defeated her father--she was rather sorry about her mother--but that +could be remedied later on. There was no doubt that she had the whip hand +of Nathaniel at last, and the subconscious attitude of defiance she +always held toward her father was strengthened by the knowledge that +he was unjustly judging her. + +There were many things of interest in Kenmore that only limited time +prevented Priscilla from investigating. She longed to go to the jail and +see if the people had prevailed upon old Jerry McAlpin to discharge +himself. She admired Jerry's spirit! + +She wanted to call upon Mrs. Hornby and question her about Jamsie, her +last boy, who had succumbed to the lure of the States. She longed to know +the symptoms of one attacked by the lure. Then there was the White Fish +Lodge--she did so want to visit Mrs. McAdam. The annual menace of taking +Mrs. McAdams' license from her was man's talk just then, and Mrs. McAdam +was so splendid when her rights were threatened. On the village Green +she annually defended her position like a born orator. Priscilla had +heard her once and had never got over her admiration for the little, thin +woman who rallied the men to her support with frantic threats as to her +handling of their rights unless they helped her fight her battle against +a government bent upon taking the living from a "God-be-praised +widow-woman with two sons to support." + +It had all been so exactly to Priscilla's dramatic taste that she with +difficulty restrained herself from calling at the White Fish. + +There was a good hour to her credit when the erranding was finished and +the time needed for the home run set aside, so to the little cabin, built +beside the schoolhouse, she went with heavily loaded arms and an +astonishingly light heart. + +Since the day when Anton Farwell had undertaken Priscilla's +enlightenment, asserting that he had been ordained to do so by her god, +he had had an almost supernatural influence upon her thought. For her, +he was endowed with mystery, and, with the subtle poetry of the lonely +young, she deafened her ears to any normal explanation of the man. + +Reaching the cabin, she pushed gently against the door, knowing that if +it opened, Kenmore was free to enter. Farwell was in and, when Priscilla +stood near him, seemed to travel back from a far place before he saw her. +Farwell was an old-young man; he cultivated the appearance of age, but +only the very youthful were deceived. His long, dark hair fell about his +thin face lankly, and it was an easy matter, by dropping his head, to +hide his features completely. + +He was tall and, from much stooping over books or the work of his garden, +was round-shouldered. When he looked you fully in the face, which he +rarely did, it was noticed that his eyes were at once childishly friendly +and deathly sad. + +The older people of Kenmore had ceased to wonder about him. Having +accepted him, they let matters drop. To the children, to all helpless +animals, he was an enduring solace and power. When all else failed they +looked to him for solution. For this had Priscilla come. + +"To be sure!" cried Farwell at length. "It's Priscilla Glenn. Bad child! +It's many a day since we had a lesson. There! there! no excuses. Sit down +and--own up!" + +While he was speaking Farwell replenished the wood on the fire and +brushed the ashes from the hearth. Priscilla, in a chair, sat upright and +rather breathlessly wondered how she could manage all she wanted to say +and hear in the small space of time that was hers. + +Anton's back was toward her when she uttered her first question and the +words brought him to an upright position, facing her at once. + +"Mr. Farwell, where did you come from--I mean before the wreck?" + +For a moment the master looked as if about to spring forward to lock the +door and bar the windows. Real alarm was in his eyes. + +"Who told you to ask that?" he whispered. + +"No one. No one has to tell me questions; I have more of my own than I +can ask. I never thought before about you, Mr. Farwell, we're so used to +you, but now it's because of _me_. I want to know. Somebody has got to +help me--I feel it coming again." + +"Feel what coming?" Farwell sat limply down in the chair he had lately +occupied. + +"Why, the lure. It comes to the boys, Mr. Farwell. They just get it and +go off to the States, and it's come to me! I've always known it would. +You see, I've got to go away; not just now, but some time. I'm going out +through the Secret Portage. I'm going away, away to find my real place. +I'm going to do something--out where the States are. I hoped you came +from there; could tell me--how to go about it. Do you know, I feel as if +I had been dropped in Kenmore just to rest before I went on!" + +Farwell looked at the girl and something new and changed about her +startled him as it had her parents, but, being wiser, he felt no +antagonism. It was an amazing, an interesting thing. The girl had +suddenly developed: that was all. She was eager to try her wings at a +longer flight than any of her sex in Kenmore had ever before dreamed. It +was amusing even if it were serious. + +Years before, Farwell had discovered the girl's keen mind and her +quaint originality. As much for his own pleasure as her advantage he +had taught her as he had some of the other village children, erratically, +inconsequently, and here she was now demanding that he fit her out with +a chart for deep-sea sailing. + +How could he permit her to harbour, even for an idle moment, the idea of +leaving her shelter and going away? At this the thin, dark face grew +rigid and stern. But too well the man knew the folly of setting up active +opposition to any young thing straining against the door of a cage. +Better open the door even if a string on the leg or a clipped wing had +to be resorted to! + +"Did you ever see the States?" The tense voice was imploring. + +"Oh, yes. Why do you wish to go there?" + +"Why do the boys?" + +This was baffling. + +"Well, there was Mrs. Hornby's oldest boy, he went to the States, got the +worst of it, and came home to die. He did not find them happy places." + +"Yes, but all the other Hornbys went just the same, even Jamsie. It's the +chance, you know, the chance to try what's in you, even if you _do_ come +home and die! You never have a chance in Kenmore; and I don't mean to be +like my mother--like the other women. You see, Mr. Farwell, I'm willing +to suffer, but I _am_ going to know all I want to, and I am going to find +a place where I fit in, if I can." + +So small and ignorant did the girl look, yet so determined and keen, that +Farwell grew anxious. Evidently Nathaniel had borne too hard upon her, +borne to the snapping point, and she had, in her wild fashion, caught the +infection of the last going away--Jamsie Hornby's. It was laughable, but +pathetic. + +"What could you do?" Farwell leaned forward and gazed into the strange +blue eyes fixed upon him. + +"Dance. Have you ever seen me dance? Do you want to?" She was prepared to +prove herself. + +"Good Lord! no, no!" + +"Oh! I can dance. If some one would play for me--play on--on a fiddle, I +could dance all day and night. Wouldn't people pay for that?" + +This was serious business. By some subtle suggestion Priscilla Glenn had +introduced into the bare, cleanly room an atmosphere of danger, a curious +sense of unreality and excitement. + +"Yes--they do pay," Farwell said slowly; "but where in heaven's name did +you get such ideas?" + +The girl looked impishly saucy. She was making a sensation again and, +while Anton Farwell was not affected as her parents had been, he was +undoubtedly impressed. + +"It's this way: You have to sell what you've got until you get something +better. There isn't an earthly thing I can do but dance now; of course I +can learn. Don't you remember the nice story about the old woman who went +to market her eggs for to sell? Master Farwell, I'm like her, and my +dancing is my--egg!" + +She was laughing now, this unreasoning, unreasonable girl, and she was +laughing more at Farwell's perplexity than at her own glibness. She must +soon go, her time was growing short, but she was enjoying herself +immensely. + +Looking at her, Farwell was suddenly convinced of one overpowering fact: +Priscilla Glenn was destined for--living! Hers was one of those natures +that flash now and then upon a commonplace existence, a strange soul from +an unknown port, never resting until it finds its way back. + +"Poor little girl!" whispered Farwell, and then he talked to her. + +Would she let him go to her father and mother? + +"What's the use?" questioned Priscilla, and she told him of the +experience in the woods. "Father saw only evil when it was the most +beautiful thing that ever happened." + +Farwell saw a wider stretch and more danger. + +"But I will try, and anyway, Priscilla, if I promise to help you get +ready, will you promise me to do nothing without consulting me?" + +This the girl was ready enough to do. She was restless and defiant under +her new emotion, but intuitively she had sought Farwell because he had +before aided her and sympathized with her. Yes, she would confide in him. + +That night Farwell called at Lonely Farm. Followed by his two lean, ugly +sledge dogs he made his way to the barn where Nathaniel was doing the +evening's work. While the men talked, the dogs, behind the building, +fought silently and ferociously. Farwell had fed one before he left home +and a bitter jealousy lay between the animals. It was almost more than +one might hope that the master could influence Glenn or change his mind, +but Farwell did bring to bear an argument that, because nothing else +presented itself, swayed the father. + +"You cannot get the same results from all children," Farwell said, +looking afar and smiling grimly; "there's no use trying to make an +abnormal child into a normal one. Priscilla is like a wild thing of the +woods. You may tame her, if you go about it right; you'll never be able +to force her. She's kind and affectionate, but she cannot be fettered or +caged, without mischief being done. Better let her think she is having +her own way, or--she may take it!" + +"I'll break her will!" muttered Glenn. + +"And if you do--what then?" + +"She'll fall into line--women do! Their life takes it out of them. Once I +get her on the right track, she'll go straight enough. There's no other +way for her sex, thank God!" + +"She'd be a poor, despicable thing if she was cowed." Contempt rang in +Farwell's voice. + +"She'd serve her purpose." Glenn was so angry that he became brutal. +"Spirit ain't needed for her job." + +"Purpose? Job?" Farwell repeated. + +"Yes. Child-bearing; husband-serving. If they take to it naturally +they're all the better off; if they have to be brought to terms--well, +then----" + +Gradually the truth dawned upon Farwell, and his thin face flushed, while +in his heart he pitied Theodora Glenn and Priscilla. + +"I wish I'd kept to my first ideas!" Glenn was saying surlily, "and never +let the limb learn of you or another. I gave her her head and here we +are!" + +"Had she been taught regularly by some one better fitted than I she would +have done great credit to you. She has a bright mind and a vivid +imagination." + +To this Glenn made no response, but the energy with which he applied the +brush to his horse caused the animal to rear dangerously. + +"Come, come," Farwell continued; "better loosen the rein and let her run +herself out--she may settle happily after a bit. If you don't, she may +run farther than you know." + +"Run? Run where?" Nathaniel, safe from the horse's heels, glared at +Farwell. + +"To the States. There is no sex line on the border." + +"But there's good, plain law. I'd have her back and well cowed, if she +attempted that!" + +And then Farwell played his card. + +"See here, Mr. Glenn, you do not want to drive this girl of yours to--to +hell! Of course there is law and of course you have the whip hand while +Priscilla is in your clutch, but with a wit like hers, if she slipped +across the border she could lose herself so completely that neither your +hate nor legal power could ever find her. Do you want to drive her to +such lengths?" + +Some of the truth of what Farwell was saying dashed Glenn's temper with +fear. Hard and cruel as he was, he was not devoid of affection of a +clammy sort, and for an instant Priscilla as a helpless girl wandering +among strangers replaced Priscilla, the rebellious daughter, and pity +moved him. + +"Well, what do you suggest?" he asked grudgingly. + +"Simply this: You can trust me. Good Lord you surely can trust me with +her! Let me teach her and bring a little diversion into her life. What +she wants is what all young things want--freedom and fun--pure, simple +fun. Don't let her think you are expecting evil of her; let her alone!" + +The extent of Glenn's confusion may be estimated by the fact that he +permitted Priscilla thereafter to go, when she chose, to Kenmore and +learn of Farwell what Farwell chose to give her, and, for the first time +in the girl's life, she felt a glow of appreciation toward her father. + +With this new freedom she became happier, less restless, and her +admiration for Farwell knew no bounds. + +The schoolmaster managed to procure a violin and laboriously practised +upon it until an almost forgotten gift was somewhat restored. He did not +play as Travers did--he had only his ear to depend upon; he had never +been well taught--but his music sufficed to accompany Priscilla's nimble +feet, and it gave Farwell himself an added interest in his dull life. + +"She'll marry Jerry-Jo McAlpin some day," the schoolmaster thought at +times; "and have a brood of half-breeds--no quarter-breeds--and all this +joy and gladness will become a blurred, or blotted-out, background. Good +God!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Mrs. McAdam of the White Fish Lodge came out upon the village Green one +evening in late August and, in a loud voice, hailed Jerry McAlpin: + +"I've heard it said," called she, "that you, you Jerry McAlpin, are not +against the taking away of my license; not against the making of Kenmore +a teetotal town!" + +There was menace in the high-pitched voice; warning in the accusation. +But Jerry had not taken a drop to drink since his self-releasement from +jail (after an apology from Hornby), and he was uncannily clear headed. + +"I've said that same!" he replied, and stopped short in his walk. + +Two or three other men, followed by dogs, paused to listen. Then a boat, +coming in loaded with fish, tied up to the wharf, and the crew, leaning +over the sides, waited for developments. + +"And for why?" called Mary, hands on hips and her sharp eyes blazing. + +"For this: The drink turns us mad! I'm late finding it out, but I've +found it! It sent me to jail with my wits all afire. My boy drank that +night, drank like a young beast, and lay on the floor of the cabin, they +tell me, after I went away; and he only sixteen, and his dead uncle stark +there beside him for company!" + +By this time a goodly gathering was on the Green, and Mary was in her +element. + +"And so," she said calmly, waxing eloquent as her power grew, "you and +the like of you would take an honest woman's living from her, and she +a God-be-praised widow at that, because you can't control the beast in +yourselves and can't train the cubs of your kennels!" + +This was going to great lengths, and many a listener who sided with Mary +was chilled by her offensive words. + +"Come! come!" warned Hornby, the father of the recently lured Jamsie, +"them ain't exactly womanly terms, are they?" + +But Mary was on her high horse. Availing herself of the safety her sex +secured for her, she struck left and right without grace or favour, and +her audience gaped while they listened. + +"Oh, I know! 'Tis this year a dry town with me ruined, and it's next year +a wet town with McAlpin, Hornby, or another creature in trousers taking +my place; and after that there will be no more dry town for ever and +ever! It's not morals you are after, but a man-controlled tavern. Blast +ye!" A sneer marked Mary's thin, dark face. "You want your drinks and +your freedom, but you say you fear for your lads. Shame on you! Have +I no lads?" + +Silence. + +"Have I not trained them in the way they should go? Do I fear for them?" +A grave silence, and McAlpin glared at Hornby, while an irreverent youth, +with a fish dangling from his hands, laughed and muttered: + +"Like gorrems!" + +"Play a man's part, Jerry McAlpin. 'Tis not for Jerry-Jo you fear; it's +my business you'd get from me, and you know it! Teach that lad of yours +to be decent, as I've trained mine. I have no fear for my boys! I know +what I'm talking about, and I tell you now, if my lads were like yours +I'd fling the business over, but I don't see why a decent woman, and her +a God-be-praised widow, should lose her living because you can't train +your brats in the way they should go. But this is mine! If you don't +stand by me and swear to do it here and now, it's not another drink one +of you shall get in my place till after things are settled." + +This was going farther than Mary McAdam had ever gone before. She had +threatened dire restrictions against them who failed to support her cause +should her cause be won in spite of them; she had even hinted at cash +payments to insure her against want if, possibly, her license was +revoked, but this shutting down upon human rights before election came +off was upsetting to the last degree. Hornby looked at McAlpin and +McAlpin dropped his eyes; there was a muttering and a grumbling, and a +general feeling prevailed that every man should be his own keeper and +the guardian of his own sons, and it would be a bitter wrong against a +God-be-praised widow to let family affairs ruin her business. + +In the end Mary McAdam, with a manly following of stern upholders of +individual rights and the opportunity for mutual good fellowship, retired +to the bar of the White Fish and, waited upon by Mary herself and her two +exemplary sons, made merry far into the evening. + +Tom and Sandy McAdam, handsome, carefree boys of sixteen and eighteen, +passed the drinks with many a jest and often a wink, but never a drop +drank they, not until the Lodge had closed its doors on all visitors, and +then Tom, the elder, with a final leer at Sandy the younger, drained off +a glass of bad whisky with a grace that betokened long practice. + +"Hold, there!" cautioned Sandy, filling a glass of beer for himself; +"you'll not be able to hide it from the mother, you galoot." + +"Oh, the night's long before the day breaks, and it's yourself as must +take the turn at house chores the morning." + +The following day was cloudy and threatening, and why Mary McAdam should +take that time for suggesting that her boys go over to Wyland Island and +buy their winter suits, she herself could not have told. Perhaps, from +the assurance of last night, she felt freer with money; perhaps she +thought the boys could not be spared so well later; be that as it might, +she insisted, even against Sandy's remark that "a lad couldn't put his +mind to a winter outfit with the sweat rolling down his back," that they +should set forth by eleven o'clock. + +"Make a lark of it," said she generously; "take that scapegoat Jerry-Jo +McAlpin with you and have it out with him about being a young beast and +worrying the heart out of old Jerry, who means well but ain't got no kind +of a headpiece. Take your lunch along and----" + +Here she pointed her remarks with a lean, commanding finger: "You take +that sail off the launch! It's quiet enough now, but it ain't going to +last forever, and I couldn't rest with three flighty lads in a boat with +a sail _and_ an engine." + +Mrs. McAdam always expected to be obeyed. Her personality was such that +she generally was; but always, when disobedience followed, it was hidden +from her immediate attention, and she was never one to show the weakness +of watching to see her orders carried out. That was why she, of all the +people in the little village, did not realize that her boys often drank +more than was good for them--always managed, by clever devices, to escape +her eye. + +"A glass of harmless stuff now and again," she would say with a toss of +her head; "what's that but a proof of the lads' self-control? That's what +I'm a-telling you: make your lads strong and self-respecting." + +Tom did not take the sail from the boat that day, neither did he expect +to use it. He furled it close and shipped it carefully, but it was late, +and, in the last hurry, he kept his mother's caution in mind, but did not +carry out her command. Then Sandy, when they were about to start, did a +bold thing. Stealing into the bar, he took a bottle of whisky and a +bottle of brandy; these he hid under his reefer, and, with a laugh at his +own cunning, put into the empty places on the shelves two partly filled +bottles, and ran to the wharf. + +Mary McAdam waved them a farewell from the steps. She had packed the +hamper and stowed it under the very sail she had ordered off. In the +excitement of preparation she overlooked it entirely. + +"You, Sandy, see to it that you buy a suit that you won't repent when the +winter nips you!" she called. + +"And you, Tom, get a quiet colour and _no_ checks! When yer last year's +suit shrank and the squares got crooked ye looked like a damaged +checker-board!" + +Jerry-Jo McAlpin from his seat in the stern roared with laughter at this, +and just then the sturdy little engine puffed, thudded, and "caught on," +and off went the three with loud words of good-bye. + +The Channel was as smooth as a summer brook, and the launch shot ahead. + +"It's a bit chilly," Sandy said as they neared the mouth opening at +Flying Point into the Little Bay. + +"Put on your storm coat," cautioned Tom, "and you, too, Jerry-Jo; we'll +get the wind when we pass Dreamer's Rock and strike the Big Bay." + +The boys got out their coats and put them on, and then Sandy said: + +"See what I've got! Snitched it from under the mother's eye, too!" He +held up the bottles. Tom laughed, but Jerry-Jo reached out for one. + +"A nip will ward off the cold better than a coat," he said. + +They all three indulged in this preventive. + +Beyond Dreamer's Rock the wind fulfilled Tom's prophecy; it was not a +great wind, but it was a steady one, and, perhaps, because the whisky had +warmed Tom's blood too hastily and hotly, he grew reckless. + +"What do you say, fellows, to eating our lunch and then trying sail and +engine together? We could beat the record and surprise folks by our time +in coming and going. The wind's safe; not a puff! What do you say?" + +Jerry-Jo was something of a coward, but by the time he had eaten his +lunch and washed it down with more whisky than he had meant to take, he +was ready to handle the sail himself and proceeded to do so. + +Little Bear Island was the last one before the entrance to Big Bay, and +when the launch passed that, either the wind had changed, or Tom, at the +engine and Jerry-Jo at the sail, had lost nerve and head, for the boat +became unmanageable. Sandy, keeping to the exact middle of the boat, +called to Jerry-Jo to lower the sail, but Jerry-Jo did not hear, or +failed to clearly comprehend. The little craft shot ahead like an arrow, +but Tom knew that when they went about there would be trouble. They were +fully a mile from either rock-bound shore. Wyland Island was a good two +miles before them, and home seven miles to the rear. + +A biggish sea was rolling and the sky was clouding threateningly. The +liquor had done its worst for the boys: it had unnerved them, while at +the same time it had given them a mad courage. + +"Keep straight ahead," shouted Tom, "until we get near shore, and then +pull in that infernal sail!" + +What happened just then Jerry-Jo could never tell, and he alone remained +at the day's end for the telling! + +They were in the water, all three of them! For a moment Jerry-Jo, +thoroughly sobered and keener witted than he had ever been before in his +life, believed he was the only one of the party ever again to appear in +that angry sea. Then he saw the over-turned boat, heard the last sobbing +pants of the engine as it filled with water; then Tom's black head and +agonized face appeared; then Sandy's red head. They all made for the boat +and the wide sail lying flat in the water! + +They reached the launch, chilled and desperate, climbed upon it, and +gazed helplessly at each other. Through chattering teeth they tried to +speak, but only a moan escaped Tom's blue lips. The wind was colder; the +sun had gone behind a bank of dull storm clouds. After a long while +Sandy, looking over the expanse of ugly choppy waves, shuddered and +panted: + +"It's going to be dark soon; it can't be more than a half mile to yonder +rock--I'm for swimming to it! Once on land we can move about, get our +blood going, and perhaps find a sheltered spot--till--morning!" + +Tom looked at his brother vaguely; he was suffering keenly: + +"Don't be a fool!" he shuddered. Jerry-Jo, huddled in a wet heap, was +sobbing like a baby--gone utterly to pieces. + +Another hideous space of silence followed, then Sandy spoke again: + +"I'm going to make the try. I'm dying of cold. It's the only chance for +any of us. Here goes!" + +And before any one could interfere he made his leap and was in the water, +a bobbing speck among the ugly white caps! + +"Good God!" + +That was all Tom said, but his crazed eyes were upon that strained, +uplifted face. Jerry-Jo ceased his moaning and--laughed! It was a foolish +cackle, such as a maniac might give, mistaking a death-struggle for a bit +of play. + +"He's--a good swimmer!" he gasped, and laughed again. Tom turned, for an +instant, wondering eyes upon him. He may have, in that moment, estimated +his own chance, his duty to Jerry-Jo, and his determination to be with +his brother. The perplexed gaze lasted but the briefest space of time and +then with: + +"All right! here goes!" he was making for Sandy with a strength born of +despair and madness. + +"Come back!" shrieked Jerry-Jo with the frenzy of one deserted and too +cowardly or helpless to follow: "Come back!" + +But neither swimmer heard nor heeded. For a moment more the black and the +red heads bobbed about, the faces turned toward each other grimly. Even +in that waste and at the bitter last the sense of companionship held +their thought. Jerry-Jo, rigid and every sense at last alert in an effort +for self-preservation, saw Sandy smile. It was a wonderful smile: it was +like a flash of sunlight on that black sea; then Sandy's lips moved, but +no one was ever to know what he said, and then--Jerry-Jo was alone in the +coming night and the rolling waves! + +"They should," said Mary McAdam, "be home by seven at the latest. The +wind's with them coming back; it was with them part of the way going!" + +Anton Farwell sat on the steps of the Lodge, his dogs peacefully lying at +his feet. All day, since hearing of the boys' trip, he had been restless +and anxious. Farwell had his bad hours often, but he rarely permitted +himself companionship at such times, but to-day, after his noon meal, he +had been unable to keep away from the Lodge. + +"Fall's setting in early," Mrs. McAdam went on; "pickerel come; whitefish +go. Beasts and fish and birds ken a lot, Mr. Farwell." + +"They certainly do. The more you live with dumb creatures, the more you +are impressed with that. Is that Sandy's dog, Mrs. McAdam?" + +A yellow, lank dog came sniffing around the side of the house and lay +down, friendly wise, by Farwell. + +"Yes, and he's a cute one. Do you believe me, Mr. Farwell, that there +Bounder knows the engine of our boat! Any other boat can come into the +Channel and he don't take any notice, but let my boys be out late and +Bounder, lying asleep on the floor, will start up at the chugging of the +launch and make for the dock. He never makes a mistake." + +Farwell laughed and bent over to smooth Bounder's back. + +"What time is it?" he asked. + +"Six-thirty," Mary replied with alarming readiness. "Six-thirty, and the +clock's a bit slow at that." + +Farwell felt sure it was a good ten minutes slow; but because of that he +turned the conversation. + +"Jerry McAlpin was telling me to-day," he said in his low, pleasant +voice, "of how he and others used to smuggle liquor over the border. +Jerry seems repenting of his past." + +Mary laughed and shrugged her shoulders. + +"My man and Jerry, with old Michael McAlpin, were the freest of +smugglers. In them days the McAlpins wasn't pestered with feelings; they +was good sports. Jerry marrying that full-breed had it taken out of him +somewhat--she was a hifty one. Them Indians never can get off their high +heels--not the full-breeds. But I tell you, Mr. Farwell, and you take it +for truth, when Jerry begins to maudle about repentance, it's just before +a--debauch. I know the signs." + +Just then Bounder raised his head and howled. + +"None of that! Off with yer!" shouted Mary, making for the dog with +nervous energy. "Once," she went on, her lips twitching, "my man and +Michael McAlpin had a good one on the officers. They had a big load of +the stuff on the cart and were coming down the road back of the Far Hill +Place when they sensed the custom men in the bushes. What do they do but +cut the traces and lick the horses into a run; then they turned the +barrels loose, jumped off, letting them roll down the hill, and they, +themselves, made for safety. It was only a bit more trouble to go back in +a week's time and gather up the barrels; but those government devils +followed the horses like idiots and felt mighty set up when they overtook +them! But when they saw they had _only_ the horses, oh! good Lord!" + +Farwell laughed absently; his eyes were fixed on the water. Even in the +Channel it had an angry look. The current was set from the Bay, and the +stream rose and fell as if it had an ugly secret in its keeping. + +"Mrs. McAdam," he said suddenly, "I'm going out to--to meet the boys!" + +"God save ye, Mr. Farwell--for which?" + +When Mary fell into that form of speech she was either troubled or +infuriated. + +"I'm restless; I feel like a fling. Come on, you scamps!" to his dogs, +"get home and keep house till I come back." + +His dogs leaped to him and then made for the Green. Without another word +Farwell walked to his launch at the foot of the wharf steps and prepared +for his trip. + +A black wave of fear enveloped Mary McAdam. She was overcome by a +certainty of evil, and, when Farwell's boat had disappeared, she strode +to the Green and gave vent to her anxiety. There were those who +comforted, those who jeered, but the men were largely away on fishing +business, and the women and boys were more interested in her excitement +than they were in her cause for fear. + +It was eight o'clock and very dark when Doctor Ledyard, driving down +from Far Hill Place for the mail, paused to listen to Mrs. McAdam's +expressions of anxiety. Young Dick Travers was beside him, and Mary's +words held him. + +"Was Jerry-Jo with your boys, Mrs. McAdam?" he asked. + +"He was that! And Jerry-Jo always brings ill-luck on a trip. I should +have known better than to let the half-breed scamp go. 'Twas pity as +moved me. Jerry-Jo is one as thinks rocking a boat is spirit, and yelling +for help, when no help is needed, a rare joke. The young devil!" + +Doctor Ledyard and Dick stayed on after getting the mail. A strange, +tense feeling was growing in the place. Mary's terror was contagious. + +"If the men would only come back," moaned the distracted mother; "I'd +send the lot of them out after the young limbs!" + +At eight-thirty the storm broke. A dull, thick storm which had used most +of its fury out beyond Flying Point, and in the breast of the sullen wind +came the sound of an engine panting, panting in the darkness that was +shot by flashes of lightning and rent by thunder-claps. Mary McAdam gazed +petrified at Bounder, who had followed her to the Green. + +"Why don't yer yelp?" she muttered, giving the dog a kick. But Bounder +blinked indifferently as the coming boat drew near and nearer. + +Every boy, woman, and child, with the old men and lazy young ones, were +at the wharf when the launch emerged from the darkness. Some one was +standing up guiding the boat, ready to protect it from violent contact; +some one was huddled on the floor of the boat--some one who made no cry, +did not look up. They two were all! Just then a lurid flash of lightning +seemed to photograph the scene forever on the minds of the onlookers. + +Ledyard, with Dick, was close to the boat when it touched the dock. By +the lurid light of electricity the face of the man in the launch rose +sharply against the darkness and for one instant shone as if to attract +attention. + +Farwell was known by reputation to the doctor; he had probably been seen +by him many times, but certainly his face had never made an impression +upon him before. But now, in the hour of anguish and excitement, it held +Ledyard's thought to the exclusion of everything else. + +"Who? where?" The questions ran through his mind and then, because every +sense was alert, he knew! + +"Jerry-Jo!" Dick was calling, "where are the others?" + +It was a mad question, but the boy, huddling in the launch, replied +quiveringly: + +"Gone! gone to the bottom off Dreamer's Rock." + +Then he began to whimper piteously. + +A shuddering cry rang out. It was Mary McAdam, who, followed by her dog, +ran wildly, apron over head, toward the White Fish Lodge. + +Farwell, casting all reserve aside, worked with Ledyard over the +prostrate Jerry-Jo. The recognition was no shock to him; he had always +known Ledyard; had cleverly kept from his notice heretofore, but now the +one thing he had hoped to escape was upon him, and he grew strangely +indifferent to what lay before. + +He obeyed every command of the doctor as they sought to restore Jerry-Jo. +More than once their eyes met and their hands touched, but the contact +did not cause a tremor in either man. + +When the inevitable arrives a strength accompanies it. Nature rarely +deserts either friend or foe at the critical moment. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The bay was dragged, various methods being used, but the bodies of Sandy +and Tom McAdam were not recovered. Mary McAdam with strained eyes and +rigid lips waited at the wharf as each party returned, and when at last +hope died in her poor heart, she set about the doing of two things that +she felt must be done. + +The behaviour of the boys in the boat on the day of the accident had at +last reached her ears, for, with such excitement prevailing and Jerry-Jo +reduced to periods of nervous babbling as he repeated again and again the +story, Mary was certain of overhearing the details. As far as possible +she verified every word. That her sons had disobeyed her about the sail +there could be no doubt, and when she went to the shelf of the bar and +discovered the half-filled bottles which Sandy had put in the places of +the brandy and whisky, her heart gave up doubt. She relinquished all that +she had prided herself upon in the past. They had defied and deceived +her! They had permitted her to be mocked while she prated of her +superiority! It was bitter hard, but Mary McAdam made no feeble cry--she +prepared for the final act in the little drama. Beyond that she could +not, would not look. + +"Dig me two graves," she commanded Big Hornby; "dig them one on either +side of my husband's." + +"You'll be thinking the bodies will yet be found, poor soul?" Hornby had +a tender nature kept human by his hunger for his absent boys. + +"I'm not thinking. I'm doing my part; let others do the same." + +And then Mary went to Anton Farwell. Farwell, since the night of the +tragedy, was waiting, always waiting for the inevitable. Every knock at +his door brought him panting to his feet. He knew Doctor Ledyard would +come; he fervently hoped he would, and soon, but the days dragged on. +There were moments when the man had a wild desire to shoulder his bag and +set forth under shadow of the night and the excitement, for one of his +long absences, this one, however, to terminate as far from Kenmore as +possible. Once he had even started, but at the edge of the water where +his boat lay he halted, deterred by the knowledge that his safer course +lay in facing what he must face sooner or later. Now that he was known to +be alive it were easier to deal with one man than with the pack of +bloodhounds which that one man might set upon him. Always the personal +element entered in--it was weak hope, but the only one. He might win +Ledyard; he could not win the pack! + +When Mary McAdam knocked on Farwell's door he thought the time had come, +but the sight of the distracted mother steadied him. Here was something +for him to do, something to carry him away from his lonely forebodings. + +"Come in, Mrs. McAdam. Rest yourself. You look sorely in need of rest." + +It was the early evening of a hot day. It was lighter out of doors than +in the cottage, for the shades were drawn at Farwell's windows; he +disliked the idea of being watched from without. + +"I can't rest, Master Farwell, till I've done my task," said the poor +soul, sinking into the nearest chair. "And it's to get your help I've +come." + +"I'll do what I can," murmured Farwell. "What I'll be permitted to do," +he felt would be more true. + +"I've said more than once, Mr. Farwell, that were my boys like other boys +I'd give up the business of the White Fish. Well, my lads were like +others, only they were keener about deceiving me. I thought I'd made them +strong and sure, but I did the same hurt to my flesh and blood that I did +to others. I put evil too close and easy to them. I prided myself on what +I had never done! They'll come back to me no more. Could I have a talk +with them, things might be straightened out; but I must do what is to be +done alone." + +Not a quiver shook the low, severe voice. The very hardness moved Farwell +to deep pity. + +"It's now, Mr. Farwell, that I'd have you come to the Lodge and help me +with my task, and when it's over I want you to stand with me beside those +two empty graves and say what you can for them who never had the right +mother to teach them. I'm no church woman; the job of priest and minister +sickens me, but I know a good man when I see one. You helped the lads +while they lived; you risked your life to help them home at the last; and +it's you who shall consecrate the empty beds where I'd have my lads lie +if the power were mine!" + +Farwell got up and paced the room restlessly. Suddenly, with Ledyard's +recognition, the poor shell of respectability and self-respect which, +during his lonely years, had grown about him, was torn asunder, and he +was what he knew the doctor believed him. To such, Mary McAdam's request +seemed a cruel jest, a taunt to drive him into the open. And yet he knew +that up to the last ditch he must hold to what he had secured for +himself--the trust and friendship of these simple people. Hard and +distasteful as the effort was he dared not turn himself from it. Full +well he knew that Ledyard's magnifying glass was, unseen, being used +against him even now. The delay was probably caused by the doctor's +silent investigation of his recent life, his daily deeds. He could well +imagine the amusement, contempt, and disbelief that would meet the story +of his poor, blameless years during which he had played with children, +worked in his garden, been friends with the common folk, not from any +high motive, but to keep himself from insanity! He had had to use any +material at hand, and it had brought about certain results that Ledyard +would dissect and toss aside, he would never believe! Still the attempt +to live on, as he had lived, must be undertaken. A kind of desperation +overcame him. + +What did it matter? He might just as well go on until he was stopped. He +was no safer, no more comfortable, sitting apart waiting for his summons. +He would, as far as in him lay, ignore the menacing thing that hovered +near, and play the part of a man while he might. + +"I'm ready to go with you, Mrs. McAdam," he said, turning for his hat, +"and as we go tell me what you are about to do." + +It was no easy telling. The mere statement of fact was so crude that +Farwell could not, by any possibility, comprehend the dramatic scene he +was soon to witness and partake of. + +"I'm going to keep my word," Mary McAdam explained. "I'll not be waiting +for the license to be given, or taken away, I'll keep my word." + +It was a still, breathless night, with a moon nearly full, and as Mrs. +McAdam, accompanied by Farwell, passed over the Green toward the Lodge, +the idlers and loiterers followed after at a respectful distance. Mary +was the centre of attraction just then, and Farwell always commanded +attention, used as the people were to him. + +"Come on! come on!" called Mary without turning her head. "Bring others +and behold the sight of your lives. Behold a woman keeping her word when +the need for the keeping is over!" + +A growing excitement was rising in Mary's voice; she was nearing the end +of her endurance and was becoming reckless. + +By the time the Lodge was reached a goodly crowd was at the steps leading +up to the bar. Jerry McAlpin was there with Jerry-Jo beside him. Hornby, +just come from the digging of the two graves, stood nearby with the scent +of fresh earth clinging to him. + +Suddenly Mary McAdam came out of the house, her arms filled with bottles, +while behind her followed Farwell rolling a cask. + +What occurred then was so surprising and bewildering that those who +looked on were never able to clearly describe the scene. Standing with +her load, Mary McAdam spoke fierce, hot words. She showed herself no +mercy, asked for no pity. She had dealt in a business that threatened the +souls of men and boys, made harder the lives of women. She had blinded +herself and made herself believe that she and hers were better, stronger +than others, and now---- + +Mary was magnificent in her abandon and despair. Her words flowed freely, +her eyes flashed. + +[Illustration: "'And now,' she cried, 'I'll keep my word to you. Here! +here! here!' The bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the +roadway"] + +"And now," she cried, "I'll keep my word to you. Here! here! here!" + +The bottles went whirling and crashing on the rocks near the roadway. + +"And you, Master Farwell, break open the keg and set the evil thing +free." + +This Farwell proceeded to do with energy born of the hour. "And fetch out +all that remains!" shrieked Mary. "Here, you! McAlpin, I'll have none of +your help! Stay in your place; I'd not trust you inside when all's as +free as it is to-night. You have your lad--heaven help you! Keep him and +give him a clean chance. Nor you, Hornby! Out with you! It's a wicked +waste, is it? Better so than what I suffer. Your lads are above ground, +though out of your sight, Hornby, while mine----Here, Master, more! more! +let us water the earth." + +The mad scene went on until the last drop of liquor was soaking into the +earth or dripping from the rocks. + +White-faced and stern, Farwell carried out the mother's commands and +heeded not the muttered discontent or the approach of the horse and buggy +bearing Doctor Ledyard and Dick Travers. He was one in the drama now and +he played his part. + +At the close a dull silence rested on the group, then Mary McAdam made +her appeal. Her voice broke; her hands trembled. She looked aged and +forlorn. + +"And now," she said; "who'll come to the graveyard with me?" + +She need not have asked. To the last child they followed mutely. They +were overcome by curiosity and fear, and the faces in the dull light of +the late day and early night looked ghostly. + +As Farwell stood near Mary McAdam by the newly made graves, he raised +his eyes and found Ledyard's stern, yet amused, ones on his face. For +a moment he quivered, but with the courage of one facing an operation, +the outcome of which he could not know, he returned the look steadily. +He heard his own voice speaking words of helpfulness, words of +memory-haunted scenes. He told of Tom's courage and Sandy's sunshiny +nature. 'Twas youth, he pleaded for them, youth with its blindness and +lack of foresight. He recalled the last dread act as Jerry-Jo had +depicted it. The older brother risking all for the younger. The +smile--Sandy's last bequest--the moving lips that doubtless spoke words +of affection to the only one who could hear them. Together they had +played their pranks, had trod the common path; together they +went--Farwell paused, then returned Ledyard's sneering gaze +defiantly,--"To God who alone can understand and judge!" This was +flung out boldly, recklessly. + +With ceremony and the sound of sobbing, the empty graves were refilled, +and the strange company turned away. + +Then, alone and spent, Farwell returned to his cottage with a sure sense +that before he slept he would know his fate, for he acknowledged that his +fate lay largely, now, in the hands of the man who no longer had any +doubt of his identity. + +It was half-past eight when the buggy passed Farwell's window bound for +the Hill Place. Young Travers was driving and the seat beside him was +empty! Nine o'clock struck; the lights went out in the village, but +Farwell rose and trimmed his lamp carefully. Ten o'clock--all Kenmore, +excepting Mary McAdam, slept. Still Farwell waited while his clock ticked +out the palpitating seconds. The moonlight flooded the Green. Where was +he, that waiting man who was to come and give the blow? + +It was nearly eleven when Farwell saw him advancing across the Green. He +had been down by the water, probably hiding in some anchored boat until +he was sure that he would not be seen. As he reached the door of +Farwell's house a clear voice called to him: + +"Will you come in, or would you prefer to have me come out?" + +This took Ledyard rather at a disadvantage. He could hardly have told +what he expected, but he certainly did not look for this calm acceptance +of him and his errand. + +"I'll come in. I see you have a light. Thank you"--for Farwell had +offered a chair near the table--"I hope I'm not disturbing you." + +The irony of this was apparently lost upon Farwell. He sat opposite +Ledyard, his arms folded on the table, waiting. + +"So you're alive!" + +"So it seems--at least partly so." Farwell parried the blows as one does +even when he sees failure at hand. + +"Perhaps you know your death was reported some years ago? There was a +full account. You were escaping into Canada. The _La Belle_ was the name +of the boat. It went down near here?" + +"Off Bleak Head," Farwell broke in. + +"Thanks. There was even a picture of you in the papers," Ledyard said. + +"A very poor one, I recall." Now that he was on the dissecting table, +Farwell found himself strangely calm and collected. He saw that his +manner irritated Ledyard; felt that it might ruin his chances, but he +held to it grimly. + +"So you saw--the papers?" The eyes under the shaggy brows looked ugly. + +"Oh, yes. I had them all sent to me. It was very interesting reading +after I got over the shock of the wreck and had accepted my isolated +position." + +"I suppose--Boswell keeps in touch with you--damn him!" + +"Do you begrudge me--this one friend?" + +"Yes. You have put yourself outside the pale of human companionship and +friendships." + +To this Farwell made no rejoinder. Again he waited. + +"What do you think I'm going to do about it, now that I've run you down +so unexpectedly?" + +"I have supposed you would tell me, once we got together." + +"Well, I've come to tell you!" + +Ledyard leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out before +him. + +"But first I'm going to ask you a few questions. Your answers won't +signify much one way or the other, but I'm curious. Why did you make such +a fight--just to live? It must have been a devil of a game." + +Farwell leaned against the table and so came nearer to his inquisitor. + +"It was," he said quietly, "and I wonder if you can understand why it is +that I'm glad to tell--even you about it? I don't expect sympathy, pity, +or--even justice, but when a man's been on a desert isle for years it's a +relief to speak his own tongue again to any one who can comprehend and +who will listen." + +"I'm prepared to listen," Ledyard muttered, and shrugged his heavy +shoulders; "it will pass the time." + +"After the thing was done," Farwell plunged in, "the thing I--had to +do--I was dazed; I couldn't think clear. I'd been driven by drink +and--and other things into a state bordering on delirium. Afterward, when +they had me and I was forced to live normally, simply, I began to think +clearly and suffer. God! how I suffered! I faced death with the horror +that only an intelligent person can know. I saw no escape. The trial, the +verdict, brought me closer and closer to the hideous reality. At first +I thought it could _not_ happen to me--to me! But it could! I sat day +in and day out, looking at the electric chair! That was all I could see: +it stood like a symbol of all the torture. I wondered how I would +approach it. Would I falter, or go as most poor devils do--steadily? I +saw myself--afterward--all that was left of me to give back to the world. +Oh! I suffered, I suffered!" + +The white, haggard face held Ledyard's fascinated gaze, but drew no word +from him. + +Farwell loosened the neck of his shirt--he was stifling, yet feeling +relief as the past dreams of his lonely life formed themselves into +words. + +"At night I was haunted by visions," the low, vibrant voice rushed on. +"It was worse at night when semi-unconsciousness made me helpless. I'd +wake up yelling, not with fright, but pain, actual pain--the hot, knifing +pain of an electric current trying to find my heart and brain. + +"Then they said I was mad. Well, so I was; and the fight was on! At first +there was a gleam--the chair faded from sight. If I lived--there was +hope; but I was mistaken. You know the rest. The legal struggle, the +escapes and captures. One friend and much money did what they could; it +wasn't much. + +"You've seen a cat play with a mouse? The mouse always runs, doesn't it? +Well, so did I, though I didn't know where in God's world I was running, +nor to what." + +For some minutes Farwell had been speaking like a man distraught by +fever. He had forgotten the listener across the table; he was remembering +_aloud_ at last, with no fear of consequences. He did not look at +Ledyard, and when he spoke again it was in a calmer tone. + +"It was on the last run--that I was supposed to have drowned. Well, I did +die; at least something in me died. I lost breath, consciousness, and +when I came to I was a poor, broken thing not worth turning the hounds +on. I'm done for as far as the past's concerned. I'm a different man--not +a reformed one! God knows I never played that role. I'm another man. I +took what I could to keep me from insanity. I had to do something to +occupy my time. That's why I've taught these poor little devils; it +wasn't for them, it was for me; and when they grew to like me and trust +me--I was grateful. Grateful for even that!" + +Ledyard was holding the white, drawn face by his merciless eyes. So he +looked when a particularly interesting subject lay under his knife and he +was all surgeon--no man. + +"But you're not equal to going back to the States without being hauled +there--and taking your medicine?" he asked calmly. + +"No. I suppose in the final analysis all that justice demands is that I +should be put out of the way--out of the way of harming others? Well, +that's accomplished. I don't suppose your infernal ideas of justice claim +that a man should be hounded beyond death, and every chance for right +living be barred from him? If a poor devil ever can expatiate his sin and +try to live a decent life, why shouldn't he be given the opportunity here +and now instead of in some mythical place among creatures of one's +fancy?" + +"You didn't argue that way when you shot Charles Martin down, did you? He +was my friend; he had to--take his medicine!" Ledyard almost snarled out +these words. "He may have deserved his punishment for the lapses of his +life--but you were not the one to deal it. His family demand and should +have justice for him--I mean to see that they shall. Martin, for all his +folly was a genius, and gave to the world his toll of service. Why should +you, who gave nothing, escape at his expense?" + +"Martin was no better, no worse, than I. He and I lived on the same plane +then; had the same interests. Had I not killed him, he would have killed +me. He swore that." + +"But you took him--at a disadvantage, like the damned----" Ledyard +paused; he was losing his self-control. The calm, living face across the +table enraged him. + +"I met him in the open; I did not know he was unarmed. I drew my pistol +in full view. A week before he had done the same; I escaped. No one +believed that when I told it at the trial. I had no witnesses; he had +many when I took my revenge." + +"Who could believe you? What was your life compared with his?" + +"Exactly. Perhaps that is why I--I kept running. Martin only dipped into +such lives as mine was then; he always scurried back to respectability +and honour; I grovelled in the mire and got stuck! When you get stuck you +get what the world calls--justice." + +"I recall"--Ledyard's face was hardening--"I recall you always squealed. +You were always the wronged one; society was against you. Bah!" + +Farwell sat unmoved under this attack. + +"I'm not squealing now," he said quietly; "I am merely defending myself +as I can. That's the prerogative of any human being, isn't it? Why, see +here, Ledyard, there's one thing men like you never comprehend. On the +different stratas of life exactly the same passions, impulses, and +emotions exist; it's the way they're dealt with, how they affect people, +that makes the difference. Up where you live and breathe they love and +hate and take revenge, don't they? That's what happened down where I +wallowed and where Martin sometimes came--to enjoy himself!" + +And now Farwell clutched his thin hands on the table to stay their +trembling as he went on: + +"I loved--the woman in the case. That sounds strange to you, but it's the +only thing I warn you not to laugh at! I loved her because she was +beautiful, fascinating, and as--as bad as I. I knew the poor creature had +never had half a show. She was born in evil and exploited from the cradle +up. Martin knew it, too, and took advantage. She was fair game for him +and his money. When he came down to hell to play, he played with her and +defied me. But on my plane it was man against man, you see, and when he +flung his plaything aside, she came to me; that's all! She told me how he +had brought her where she was--yes, damn him! when she was innocent! She +paid her toll then, _not_ for his money--though who would believe +that?--but for the chance to be decent and clean. He told her, when +she was only sixteen, that the one way she could prove her vows to him +was to give herself to him. If she trusted him so far, he could trust +her. She trusted, poor child! Two years later he married up on his higher +plane--your plane--and laughingly offered a second best place to her. It +was the only bargain she could make then! The rest was an easy downhill +grade. + +"Well, I took her. I was all you say, but I meant to do the right +thing by her, and she knew it! Yes, she knew it, and later he came back +and tried to get her away. After I shot him and went to her with the +story--she told me she'd pull herself together and wait for me +until--until I came for her. She understood!" + +Ledyard moistened his lips and set his jaws harshly. The story had not +moved him to pity. + +"And--where is she now?" he asked. + +"In New York, I suppose. She thinks me dead." + +"Boswell tells you that?" + +"Yes. And he will never let her know. Unless I----" + +"You expect to go back--some day?" + +Farwell gave a dry, mirthless laugh at this, and then replied: + +"After I've been dead long enough, when I've been good long enough, +perhaps. You know even in a disembodied spirit hope dies hard. Yes--I +_had_ hoped to go back." + +"I--I thought so." Ledyard leaned forward and across the table; his face +was not three feet from Farwell's. + +"I like to trace diseases down to the last germ," he said. "You're a +disease, Farwell Maxwell, a mighty, ugly, dangerous one. You oughtn't to +be alive; you're a menace while you have breath in your body; you should +have died years ago in payment of your debt, just as Martin did, but you +escaped, and now some one has got to keep an eye on you; see that you +don't skip quarantine. You understand?" + +Farwell felt the turning of the screw. + +"I'm going to be the eye, Maxwell. You're going to stay right where you +are until you pass off this sphere. Remembering what you once were, your +pastimes and love of luxury, this seems as hellish a place and existence +as even you deserve. When I saw you last night"--and here Ledyard +laughed--"it was all I could do to control myself. You play your part +well; but you always had a knack for theatricals. I know I'm a hard, +unforgiving man, but there is just one phase of human nature that I will +not stand for, and that is the refusal to take the medicine prescribed +for the disease. What incentive have people for better living and upright +thinking if every devil of a fellow who gets through his beastiality is +permitted to come up into the ranks and march shoulder to shoulder with +the best? If it's living you want and will lie for, steal for, and beg +for--have it; but have it here where the chances are all against your old +self. You'll probably never murder any one here or ruin the women; so +grovel on!" + +As he listened Farwell seemed to shrink and age. In that hour he +recognized the fact that through all the years of self-imposed exile he +had held to the hope of release in the future: the going back to that +which he had once known. But looking at the hard, set face opposite he +knew that this hope was futile: he must live forever where he was, or, by +departing, bring about him the bloodhounds of justice and vengeance. +Ledyard had but to whistle, he knew, and again the pursuit would be keen, +and in the end--a long blank lay beyond that! + +"You will--stay where you are!" Ledyard was saying. + +"Surely. I intend to stay right here." + +Then Farwell laughed and leaned back in his chair. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Life settled into calm after the storm and subsequent happenings. Mary +McAdam, having done what she felt she must do, grimly set her house in +order and prepared for a new career. The bar, cleansed and altered, +became her private apartment. With the courage and endurance of a martyr +she determined to fight her battle out where there would be the least +encouragement or comfort. + +"I'll drink to the dregs," she said to Mary Terhune, who gave up her +profession to share the solitude and fortunes of the White Fish; "but +while I'm drinking there's no crime in serving my kind. Come summer I'll +open my doors to tourists and keep the kind of house a woman--and a +God-bepraised widow one at that--should keep. Time was when the best +would not come to me, the bar being against their liking. Well, the best +may come now and find peace." + +"'Tis a changed woman you are, Mrs. McAdam." + +"No, just a stricken one, Mary. When I sit by those empty graves back of +the pasture lot I seem to know that I must do the work of my boys as well +as my own--and the time's short! I'm over sixty." + +"And looking forty, Mrs. McAdam." The manners of her trade clung to Mrs. +Terhune. + +"The shell doesn't count, Mary, if the heart of you is old and worn." + +The people from the Far Hill Place returned early to town that year, and +Anton Farwell breathed easier and sunk back into his old life when he +knew they were gone. + +In resurrecting the man Farwell once was, Ledyard had all but slain the +man he had, perforce, become. + +Whether former characteristics were dead or not, who could tell? +But certainly with temptation removed, with the routine of a bleak, +uninteresting existence his only choice, Farwell was a harmless creature. +Gradually he had found solace in the commonplaces that surrounded +him. Like a person relieved of mortal agony he was grateful for +semi-invalidism. Previous to Ledyard's recognition of him he had sunk to +a monotonous indifference, waiting, he realized now, for the time when he +might safely shake off his disguise and slip away to what was once his +own. Now, with his exit from Kenmore barred, he found that he no longer +could return to his stupor; he was alert, keen, and restless. In the +past he had often forced himself to exercise in order that he might be +ready to journey on when the time of release came. His walks to the +distant town, his long hours on the water, had all been preparations +for the final leave-taking from his living tomb. + +But now that he had no need of lashing himself into action, he found +himself always on the move. He worked early and late at trifling tasks +that occupied his hands while sharpening his wits. With shades drawn at +night, he drew, with pencil and paper, plans of escape. He must choose +a calm spell after a storm; he would take his launch, with a rowboat +behind, to the Fox Portage. He'd set his launch free and shoulder his +boat. Once he reached the Little Bay, he'd take his chances for an +outgoing steamer. He'd have plenty of money and a glib story of a bad +connection. It would go. He must defeat Ledyard. + +Then he would tear the sheets of paper in bits, toss them on the coals, +and laugh bitterly as he realized that he was imprisoned forever. + +Foolish as all this was, it had its effect upon the man. He played with +the thought as a child might play with a forbidden toy. Then he decided +to test the matter. He would have to buy clothes and provisions for the +winter--he always made a pilgrimage about this time. There would be a +letter from Boswell, too. There always was one in September. So on a +certain morning Farwell turned the key in his lock and quite naturally +set forth with a sense of exaltation and freedom he had imagined he would +never feel again. + +Followed by his dogs, he went to his boat, which happened just then to be +tied at the ricketty dock of the White Fish. + +"It's off for a tramp you are, maybe?" asked Mrs. McAdam from her +doorway. "God keep you, Mr. Farwell, and bring you back safe and sound." + +At this Farwell paused. + +"I think I'll leave the dogs behind," he said. "I may wish to hurry back, +and a brace of dogs, keen on scents and full of spirits, is a handicap on +a journey." + +"Sure I'll feed and care for the two, and welcome, and if their staying +behind brings you quicker home, 'tis a good piece of work I'm doing for +Kenmore." + +With this Mary McAdam came down to the boat and looked keenly at Farwell. + +"Are you well?" she asked with a gentleness new and touching. "'Tis pale +you look, and thin, I'm thinking. I'm getting to depend upon you, and the +thought of anything happening to you grieves the heart of me. In all +Kenmore there's no one as I lean on like you. There be nights when I look +out toward your house and see your light a-shining when all else is dark, +and say to myself, 'The master and me' over and over, and I'm less +lonely." + +For a moment Farwell could not speak. Once an inward desire to laugh, +to scoff, would have driven him to supernatural gravity; now he merely +smiled with grave pleasure, and said: + +"A tramp will do me good, Mrs. McAdam. Thank you. I'll take your words +with me for comfort and cheer." + +The first night Farwell slept beside his fire, not ten miles from +Kenmore. He had revelled in his freedom all day, had played like a boy, +often retracing his steps, carefully using the same footprints, and +laughing as he imagined the confusion of any one trying to follow him; +the vague somebody being always Ledyard. + +After a frugal meal, Farwell smoked his pipe, even attempted a snatch of +rollicking song, then, rolling himself in a blanket, fell into natural +and happy slumber. + +At four he awoke with the creeping sensation of unexplainable fear. He +first thought some animal was prowling near, and, raising himself on his +elbow, looked keenly about. The appearance of the fire puzzled him. It +looked as if fresh wood had been laid upon it, but, as no one was in +sight he concluded that his own wood had been damp, and, therefore, had +burned slower. + +He did not sleep again, however, and his excited thoughts trailed back to +his past and the one woman who had magically caught and held all the best +that was in him. To what point of vantage had she, poor, disabled little +soul, drifted? The world was a hard enough place for a woman, God knew, +and for her, with her sudden-born determination to rise above the squalor +of her early youth, it would be a serious problem. Boswell told him so +little. He could count on his fingers the few sharp facts his friend had +given him with the promise that if conditions changed he should know, but +if all remained well, he might be secure in his faith and hope for the +future. The future! Was there any future for him except Kenmore? And if +she heard now that he was alive, had only _seemed_ dead for her safety +and his own, would she come to him and share the dun-coloured life of the +In-Place? + +She was alive; she was faithful. Boswell was making her comfortable with +Farwell's money. She was accepting less and less because she was winning +her way to independence in an honourable line. Since no man had entered +her life after Farwell's death was reported, Farwell could readily see +why. + +Over and over, that first night in the woods, Farwell rehearsed these +facts for comfort's sake. Suppose he made an escape. Suppose he lost +himself in the city's labyrinth--what then? + +And then, just at daybreak, a vivid and sharp memory of the woman's face +came to him as he had last seen it pressed against the bars of his cell. +Behind the squares of metal it shone like an angel's. Fair, pitiful, +wonder-filled eyes, and quivering mouth. All day the picture haunted him +and seemed to draw him toward it. He walked twenty miles that day and +came at sunset to a dense jungle where he made his camp and stretched +himself exhaustedly before the fire. + +Sleep did not come easily to him; he was too excited and nerve worn. The +white face checked by iron bars would not fade, and in the red glow of +the flames it began to look wan and haggard, as if the day had tired it +and it could find no rest or comfort. + +The feeling of suffocation Ledyard had managed to create, returned to +him. He grew nervous, ill at ease, and fearful. + +Then he fell to moralizing. He was not often given to that, or +introspection. Longing and alternate hope and despair had been his +comrades and bedfellows, but he rarely indulged in calm consideration. +Smoking his pipe, stretched wearily on the moss, he wondered if men knew +how much they punished while fulfilling their ideals of justice? + +"If only the sense of vindictiveness could be left out," he thought; "the +Lord knows they have it all in their power once the key is turned on us. +I deserved all they meant to inflict, but no human being deserves all +that was given unconsciously." + +Then Farwell relived his life, while the wood crumbled to ashes and the +moon came up over the hills. A misguided, misspent boyhood; too much +money; too little common sense; then the fling in the open with every +emotion and desire uncurbed. Well, he had to learn his lesson and God +knew he had; but why, in the working of things, shouldn't one be given +a chance to prove the well-learned task; an opportunity, while among the +living, to settle the question? + +However, such fancies were idle, and Farwell shook the ashes from his +pipe and gave a humorous shrug. + +It would be a fine piece of work to slip from the clutches of the past +and make good! This idea caused him to tremble. Surely no one would look +for him in the camp of the upright. Walking the paths of the clean and +sane he would be more surely secure from detection than anywhere else on +earth. That was what his past had done for him. The truth of this sank +into the lonely man's soul with sickening finality. And as he realized +it, and compared it with the fact of his youth, he groaned. What an +infernal fool he had been! What fools all such fellows were who, like +him, wasted everything in their determination to make the unreal, real. +He did not now desire to be a drivelling repentant; he wanted, God knew +he really wanted, a chance to be decent and live; but in order to live he +must go on acting a part and cringing and hiding. + +These thoughts led nowhere and unfitted him for his journey, so he made +the fire safe, lay down beside it, and slept as many a better man would +have given much to sleep. + +At four he awoke as on the previous night. So quietly, however, did he +open his eyes that he took by surprise a man crouching by the fire as if +stealing a bit of warmth. Farwell turned over, and the two eyed each +other with wide, penetrating gaze. + +Tough Pine, the guide, finding himself discovered, grinned sheepishly; he +was loathing himself for being taken off guard, and muttered: + +"Me share fire? me helped keep it." + +Farwell raised himself on his elbow, all the light and courage gone from +his face. It was the old story, the dream of freedom and--the prison +bars! + +"Where are you going?" he asked, though he knew full well. + +"Where--you go? There, Pine go! Pine--good friend and good guide." + +They questioned each other no more. Farwell finished his errand in dull +fashion, bought his goods, found a letter, long waiting him, read all the +papers he could lay hands on, and then set his face toward Kenmore. And +that winter he devoted himself as he never had before to the simple +people who were the means of keeping him sane. + +Upon this newly restricted and devastated horizon Priscilla Glenn loomed +large and vital. With Nathaniel's loosened rein and Theodora's restored +faith, the girl developed wonderfully. Farwell made no more objection to +her dancing or her flights of fancy. He fiddled for her and fed the flame +of her imagination. She was the sunniest creature he had ever known; +the bleak life of Lonely Farm had spurred her to greater lengths of +self-defence; nothing could daunt her. She had an absorbing curiosity +about life, out and beyond the Kenmore confines; and more to keep his own +memory clear than to satisfy Priscilla, Farwell set himself to the task +of educating the girl in ways that would have appalled Nathaniel and +reduced Theodora again to tears and apprehension. + +The bare room of the master's house was the stage upon which were set, in +turn, the scenes of distant city life. Vicariously Priscilla learned the +manners of a "real lady" under the most trying circumstances. Farwell +told her of plays, operas, and, over his deal table, they chatted in +brilliant restaurants. They walked gay streets and stood bewildered +before flashing shop windows. It was all dangerous, but fascinating, and +in the playing of the game Farwell grew old and drawn, while Priscilla +gradually came into her Heart's Desire of delight. + +"My Road!" she proudly thought. "My Road!" + +The old poem was recalled and was often repeated like a litany, while +life became more and more vital and thrilling with dull Kenmore as a +background and setting. + +Just about this time Jerry-Jo took to wearing his Sunday suit on week +days, thus proclaiming his aspirations and awaking the ribald jests of +his particular set. + +Mary Terhune, now partner of Mrs. McAdam, took note of Jerry-Jo's +appearance, and, on a certain afternoon in midwinter, when she, Long +Jean, and Mary McAdam sat by the range in the White Fish kitchen, fanned +a lively bit of gossip into flame. + +"Trade's a bit poor these days, eh, Jean?" + +Jean grunted over her cup of green tea. + +"Not so many children born as once was, eh? What you make of it, +Jean--the woman getting heady or--which?" + +Mary McAdam broke in. + +"What with poverty and the terrors of losing them, there's enough born to +my thinking. Time was when the young 'uns happened; they're thought more +on, these days. Women _should_ have a say. If there's one thing a man +should keep his tongue off it's this matter of families!" + +To this outrageous sentiment the listeners replied merely by two audible +gulps of tea, and then Mary Terhune found grace to remark: + +"You certainly do talk most wonderful things, Mary McAdam. You be an +ornament to your sex, but only such women as you can grip them audacious +ideas. Let them be sowed broadcast and----" + +"Where would me, and such as me, be?" Long Jean muttered, defending her +profession. + +Mrs. Terhune tactfully turned the conversation: + +"Have you noticed the change in Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" she asked with a +mysterious shake of her head. + +"Any change for the better would be welcome," Mrs. McAdam retorted. "Have +another cup, Jean? Strong or weak?" + +"Strong. I says often, says I, that unless tea curls your tongue you +might just as well take water. When I'm on duty I keep a pot on the back +of the stove week in and week out; it do brace me powerful." + +Mrs. McAdam poured the tea into the outstretched cup and proceeded to +discuss Jerry-Jo. + +"Why doesn't the scamp go to the States and find himself instead of +worrying old Jerry's very life out of him--the vampire!" + +"He may have it in his mind," soothed Mary Terhune, "but the lad's deep +and far seeing like his Injun mother--beg pardon, Jean, the term's a +compliment, God save me!" + +"You've saved your face, Mrs. Terhune. Go on!" + +Jean had begun to resent, but the explanation mollified her. + +"More tea," she said quietly, "and you might stir the dregs a mite, Mrs. +McAdam; it's plain sinful to let the strength go to waste." + +"If I was Theodora Glenn," Mary Terhune went on, monotonously stirring +the cold liquid in her cup, "I'd have my eye on that girl of hers." + +And now the ingredients were prepared for the mixing! + +"What's Priscilla Glenn got to do with Jerry-Jo McAlpin?" Mrs. McAdam +asked sharply, fixing her little ferret eyes on the speaker. + +Long Jean bridled again and interjected: + +"And for why not? Young folks is young folks, and there ain't too many +boys for the gels. What with the States and the toll to death, the gels +can't be too particular, not casting my flings at Jerry-Jo, either. He's +a handsome lad and will get a footing some day. Glenn's girl ain't none +too good for him; he'd bring her to her senses. All that dancing and +fiddle-scraping at Master Farwell's is not to my liking. The goings-on +are evil-looking to my mind. The girl always was a parcel of +whim-whams--made up of odds and ends, as it was, of her fore-runners. +What _all_ the children of the Glenns might have been--Priscilla is!" + +"So Jerry-Jo's fixed his bold eyes on the girl?" asked Mary McAdam. "It +bodes no good for her. She's a sunny creature and mighty taking in her +ways. I wish her no ill, and I hate to think of Jerry-Jo shadowing her +life till she forgets to dance and sing. For my part, I wish the master +were twenty-five years younger and could play for the lass to dance to +the end of their days." + +"And a poor outlook for me!" grumbled Jean humorously. "Another cup of +the tea, Mary Terhune, and make it stronger. I begin to feel the bitter +in my toes." + +And while this talk and more like it was permeating Kenmore, Jerry-Jo, +adorned and uncomfortable, did his own thinking and planned his own plans +after the manner of his mixed inheritance. He could not settle to any +task or give heed to any temptation from the States until he had made +Priscilla secure. The girl's age in no wise daunted McAlpin. His eighteen +years were all that were to be considered; he knew what he wanted, what +he meant to have. He could wait, he could bide the fulfillment of his +hopes, but one big, compelling subject at a time was all he could master. + +He secretly and furiously objected to the dancing and visits in Farwell's +cottage. He was ashamed to voice this feeling, for Farwell was his friend +and had taught him all he knew, but Farwell's age did not in the least +blind Jerry-Jo to the fact that he was a man, and he did not enjoy seeing +Priscilla so free and easy with any other of the male sex, be he ancient +enough to topple into the grave. + +"She'll dance for me--for me!" the young fellow ground his teeth. "I'll +make her forget to prance and grin unless she does it for me. The +master's just training her away from me and putting notions in her head. +I'll take her to the States--maybe her dancing will help us both there. +I don't mean to drudge as Jamsie Hornby does! Better things for me!" + +Sex attraction swayed Jerry-Jo madly in those days and he thought it +love, as many a better man had done before him. The blood of his mother +controlled him largely and he wished that he might carry the girl off to +his wigwam, and, at his leisure, with beads and blankets, or other less +tangible methods, win her and conquer her. But present conditions held +the boy in check and compelled him to adopt more modern tactics. He +stole, when he couldn't beg, from his poor father all the money Jerry +wrenched from an occasional day's work. With this he bought books for +Priscilla, vaguely realizing that these would most interest her, but his +selection often made her laugh. Piqued by her indifference, Jerry-Jo +plotted a thing that led, later, to tragic results. Remembering the +favour Priscilla had long ago shown for the book from Far Hill Place, he +decided to utilize the taste of the absent owner, and the owner himself, +for his own ends, not realizing that Priscilla had never connected the +cripple Jerry-Jo had described, with the musician of the magic summer +afternoon that had set her life in new currents. + +It was an easy matter to enter the Far Hill Place, and, where one was +not troubled with conscience, a simple thing to select at random, but +with economy, books from the well-filled shelves. These gifts presently +found their way to Priscilla, cunningly disguised as mail packages. +Inadvertently the very book Priscilla had once cried over came to her and +touched her strangely. + +"Why should he send me these--send me this?" she asked Jerry-Jo, who had +brought the package to her. + +"He always wanted you to have it. I told you that; he remembers, I +suppose, and wants you to have it. He said it was more yours than his." +To test her Jerry-Jo was hiding behind Travers. + +"I'd walk a hundred miles over the rock on bare feet to thank him," the +girl replied, her big eyes shining. And with the words there entered into +Jerry-Jo's distorted imagination a concrete and lasting jealousy of poor +Dick Travers, who was innocent of any actual memory of Priscilla Glenn. +Travers at that time was studying as few college men do, always with the +spur of lost years and a big ambition lashing him on. + +During that winter the stolen books from the Far Hill Place caused +Priscilla much wonderment and some little embarrassment. She had to keep +them secret owing to her father's sentiment, and, for some reason, she +did not confide in Farwell. This new and unexpected interest in her life +was so foreign to anything with which the master had to do that she felt +no inclination to share it. + +"But I cannot understand," she often said to Jerry-Jo. "I'd like to write +to him. Do you think you could find out for me where he is? That he +should even remember me! I would not have him think me so ungrateful as +I must seem." + +She and Jerry-Jo were in the path leading to Lonely Farm from Kenmore as +she spoke, and suddenly something the young fellow said brought her to a +sharp standstill. + +"Oh! I suppose, after your cutting up in the woods that day he wants to +make you remember him." + +This was an outburst that Jerry-Jo permitted himself without forethought. +He was using Travers as an old tribeman might have used torture, to test +his own bravery and endurance, but the effect upon Priscilla was so +startling and unexpected that he fell back bewildered. + +"In--the--the--woods?" she gasped. + +"Sure. That time your father drove you home." + +For a full moment Priscilla stared helplessly, then she began to see +light. + +"Do you mean," she gasped, "that he who made me dance--was the boy of the +Hill Place?" + +"As if you did not know it!" Jerry-Jo grunted. + +"But Jerry-Jo you said he--that boy was a poor, twisted thing, ugly past +all belief, while he who played and laughed that day was like an angel of +light just showing me the way to heaven!" + +And now Jerry-Jo's dark face was not pleasant to look upon. + +"Can't a twisted thing become straight?" he muttered; "can't a devil trap +himself out like an--an angel?" + +"Oh! Jerry-Jo, he who played for me in the woods could never have been +evil. Why, all his life he had been making himself into something big +and fine. He put into words the things I had always thought and dreamed +about--an ideal was what he called it! And to think I never knew! And he +remembered and wanted to be kind! I shall worship him now while I live. +And when he comes back to the Hill Place I will go and thank him, even +if my father should kill me. I shall never be happy until I can explain. +What a stupid he must think me!" + +After that the secret became the sacredest thing in Priscilla's life and +the most tormenting in Jerry-Jo's. They were both at ages when such an +occurrence would appeal to a girl's sentimentality and a young man's +hatred. + +The family did not return to the Hill Place for many summers, and only +once during the following years did Priscilla's name pass Travers's +lips. + +Apropos of something they were talking about he said to Helen Travers: "I +wonder what has become of that little dancing dervish up in Canada? She +wasn't plain, ordinary stuff, but I suppose she'll be knocked into shape. +Maybe that half-breed, Jerry-Jo, will get her when she's been reduced to +his level. There are not girls enough to go around up there, I fancy. +That little thing, though, was too spiritual to be crushed and +remodelled. As she danced that day, her scarlet cape flying out in the +breeze, she looked like a living flame darting up from the red rock. +And those awful words she uttered--poor little pagan! Jerry-Jo told +me afterward what the lure of the States meant: it's a provincial +expression. Mother, if the lure should ever control that girl of Lonely +Farm I wish we might greet her, for safety's sake." + +But it was not likely that either of the Traverses for a moment conceived +of the reality of Priscilla leaving the In-Place, and in time even the +memory of her became blurred to Dick by the eternal verities of his +strenuous young life. + +Gradually his lameness disappeared until a slight hesitation at times was +all that remained. Five years of college, two abroad--one with Helen, one +with Doctor Ledyard--and then Richard Thornton Travers (Helen had, when +he went to college, insisted for the first time upon the middle name) +hung out his modest sign--it looked brazenly glaring to him--under that +of Thomas R. Ledyard, and nervously awaited the first call upon him. He +was twenty-five when he started life, and Priscilla Glenn, back in +forgotten Kenmore, was nearing nineteen, with Jerry-Jo in hot pursuit +behind her. As to Anton Farwell, there was no doubt about his age now. +Not even the very old called him young, and there was a pathos about him +that attracted the attention of those with whom he had lived so long. + +"He looks haunted," Mary Terhune ventured; "he starts at times when one +speaks sudden, real pitiful like. The look of his eyes, too, has the +queer flash of them as sees forward as well as back. Do you mind, Mrs. +McAdam, how 'tis said that them as comes nigh to drowning have a glimpse +on before as well as the picture of all that has past?" + +"I've heard the same," nodded Mary McAdam. + +"Belike the master remembers and often looks to the end of his journey. +Well, he's been a good harmless sort, as men go. He's kept the children +out of trouble far more than one could expect, and he's been a merciful +creature to humans and beasts. I wonder what he had in his life before he +washed up from the _La Belle_?" + +All this seemed to end the discussion. + +Mary McAdam was an important personage about that time. The White Fish +Lodge had become famous. Without bar or special privilege of any sort, +the house was patronized by the best class of tourist. Mary was a born +proprietress, and, while she extracted the last penny due her, always +gave full value in return. She and Mary Terhune did the cooking; a bevy +of clean, young Indian girls from Wyland Island served as waitresses and +maids, their quaint, keen reserve was charming, and no better public +house could have been found on the Little or Big Bay. + +Priscilla drifted to the Lodge as naturally as a flower turns to the sun. +The easy-going people, the laughter and merriment appealed strongly to +her, and again did she cause Jerry-Jo serious displeasure and arouse her +father's lurking suspicions. + +"Watch her! watch her!" was his warning, and Theodora returned to her +fears and tears. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Anton Farwell had, little by little, accepted the fate of those who, +deprived of many blessings, learn to depend on a few. As the remaining +senses are sharpened by the loss of one, so in this man's life the +cramping process, begun by his own wrongdoing, and prolonged and +completed by other conditions, had the effect of focussing all his power +on the atoms that went to the making up of the daily record of his days. +Had he kept a diary it would have been interesting from its very lack of +large interest. And yet, with all this narrowing down, a certain fineness +and purpose evolved that were both touching and inspiring. He never +complained, not even to himself. After recognizing the power which +Ledyard held in his life, he relinquished the one hope that had held him +to the past. Then, for a year or two, the light of the doctor's contempt, +which had been turned on him, took the zest from the small efforts he had +made for better living and caused him to distrust himself. He saw himself +what he knew Ledyard thought him--a mean, cowardly creature, and yet, in +his better moments, he knew this was not so. + +"Men have made friends of mice and insects in prison," he argued; "they +have kept their reason by so doing; why, in heaven's name, shouldn't I +play with these people here and make life possible?" + +But try as he might he found his courage failing, and more and more he +dwelt apart and clung to the few--Priscilla Glenn, Mary McAdam, and old +Jerry McAlpin--who regarded him in the light of a priest to whom they +might confess freely. + +Then one of Farwell's dogs died and he was genuinely anxious at the +effect this had upon him. + +"So this is what I've come to!" he muttered as he buried the poor brute, +while the tears fell from his eyes and the other dog whined dolorously +beside him--"broken hearted over--a mongrel!" But he got another dog! + +For a time Farwell vigorously set himself against depending upon +Priscilla Glenn as a support in his narrowing sphere. Many things +threatened such a friendship--Nathaniel, Jerry-Jo, and the girl +herself--for Priscilla, during the first years of Nathaniel's relaxed +severity, was like a bee sipping every flower, and Farwell was not at +all confident that anything he had to give would hold even her passing +interest for long. Then, too, like a many-wounded creature, he dreaded +a new danger, even though for a moment it gave promise of comfort. But +finally Priscilla got her bearings and more and more brought all her +powers to bear upon one ambition. + +The childish madness that prompted her to run away from anything that +hurt or angered her, gradually disappeared, and in its place came a staid +determination to seek her fortunes, soon, in some place distant from +Kenmore. + +The tourists opened a new vista to her, but many of them, with stupid +ignorance, mistook her position and traditions. She was offered +occupations as cook, maid, or laundress. She had sense of humour enough +to laugh at these, and often wished she dared repeat them for her +father's edification. + +"The daughter of the King of Lonely Farm," she said to Farwell one day +with her mocking smile and comical courtesy "is bidden to the service of +Mrs. Flighty High as skivvy. If this comes to the king's ears, 'twill +mean the head of Mrs. Flighty High!" + +Farwell joined her in her amusement and felt the charm of her coming +womanhood. + +"But there is one up at the Lodge," Priscilla went on more gravely, "who +is not such a wild fool. She has a sick baby, and for two nights she and +I have watched and tended together. She says I have the touch and nature +of the true nurse and she has told me how in the States, and England, +too, they train young girls in this work. She says we Canadians are in +great demand, and the calling is a wonderful one, Master Farwell." + +This interested Anton Farwell a good deal and he and Priscilla discussed +it often after the woman who had just broached it had departed. It seemed +such a normal, natural opening for Priscilla if the time really came for +her to go away. The doubt that she would eventually go was slight in +Farwell's heart. He, keener than others, saw the closing-in of +conditions. He was not blind to Jerry-Jo's primitive attempts to attract +the girl's attention, but he was not deceived. When the moment came that +Priscilla recognized the half-breed's real thought, Farwell knew her +quick impulse would, as of old, be to fly away. She was like a wild bird, +he often pondered; she would give to great lengths, flutter close, and +love tenderly, but no restraining or harsh touch could do aught but set +her to flight. + +At twenty-three Jerry-Jo surlily and passionately came to the conclusion +that he must in some way capture his prize. Other youths were wearing +gaudy ties and imperilling their Sunday bests; he was letting precious +time slip. Then, too, by Farwell's advice, old Jerry was growing rigid +along financial lines, and at last the _States_ took definite shape in +Jerry-Jo's mind, but he meant to have Priscilla before he heeded the +lure. With all his brazen conceit and daring he intuitively knew that +the girl had never thought of him as he thought of her, and he dared not +awaken her by legitimate means. Quite in keeping with his unrestrained +nature, he plotted, indirectly, to secure what otherwise might escape +him. Fully realizing Nathaniel's attitude toward his daughter, counting +his distorted conceptions and foolish pride, Jerry-Jo began to construct +an obstacle that would shut Priscilla from her father's protection and +cause her to accept what others had to offer--others, being always and +ever, himself! + +Once Lonely Farm was closed to the girl, other houses in the serenely +moral In-Place would inevitably slam their doors. The cunning of the +half-breed was diabolic in its sureness. Anton Farwell could not assume +responsibility for Priscilla if all Kenmore turned its back on her, and +in that hour the girl would, of course, come running or crawling--never +dancing--to him, Jerry-Jo! + +It was all for her own good, the evil fellow thought. + +"I'll be kind to her when I get her. I'm only playing her with the hook +in her mouth." + +But Jerry-Jo was scheming without considering the Lure, which never was +long absent from Priscilla's mind at that time. + +One early September afternoon Priscilla presented herself at Farwell's +cabin in so startling a manner that she roused the man as nothing +previously in his association with her had ever done. + +He was sitting at the west window of his living-room, his back toward the +door leading to the Green. For a wonder, what he was reading had absorbed +him, and he was far and away from the In-Place. He had taken to fine, old +literature lately and had found, to his delight, that his mind was +capable of appreciating it. + + "Wisdom, slow product of laborious years, + The only fruit that life's cold winter bears, + Thy sacred seeds in vain in youth we lay, + By the fierce storm of passion torn away; + Should some remain in rich, gen'rous soil, + They long lie hid, and must be raised with toil; + Faintly they struggle with inclement skies, + No sooner born than the poor planter dies." + +With such word-comfort did Farwell dig, from other's experiences, crude +guidings for himself! And at that moment a stir outside the open door +caused him to turn and confront what, in the excited moment, seemed an +apparition from the past, which, for him, was sealed and barred. + +"Good Lord!" he ejaculated under his breath and started to his feet. A +visitor from the Lodge apparently had descended upon him. + +"I beg pardon," he said aloud, and then a laugh, familiar and ringing, +brought the colour to his pale, thin face. + +The girl came in, threw back the veil from her merry face, and confronted +Farwell. + +"Miss Priscilla Glenn, sir! Behold her in the battered finery of the +place she is going to--to grace some day!" + +Then Priscilla wheeled about lightly and displayed her gown to Farwell's +astonished eyes. + +"Cast-offs," she explained; "the Honourable Mrs. Jones from the States +left them with Mrs. McAlpin for the poor. Just imagine the 'poor' +glinting around in this gay silk gown all frayed at the hem and in holes +under the arms! The hat and veil, too, go with the smart frock; likewise +the scarf of rainbow colours. But, oh! Mr. Farwell, how do I look as a +real lady in my damaged outfit?" + +Farwell stared without speaking. He had grown so used to the change in +the girl since the time when he had prevailed upon Glenn to loosen the +rein upon her, that the even stream of their intercourse had been +unruffled. He had passed from teacher to friendly guide, from guide to +good comrade; but here he was suddenly confronting her--man to woman! + +All his misfortune and limitations had but erected a shield of age about +him beneath which smouldered dangerously, but unconsciously, all the +forbidden and denied passions and sentiments of a male creature of early +middle life. + +In thinking afterward of the shock Priscilla gave him, Farwell was always +glad to remember that his first thought was for her, her danger, her +need. + +"I declare!" he exclaimed. "I did not know you, Priscilla Glenn." + +His tone had a new ring in it, a vibration of defence--the astonished +male on guard against the attack of a subtle force whose power he could +not estimate. + +"And no wonder. I did not know myself when I first saw myself. Do you +know, Mr. Farwell, I never thought about my--my face, much, but it is +really a--very nice face, isn't it? As faces go, I mean?" + +"Yes," Farwell returned, looking at her critically and speaking slowly. +"Yes, you are very--beautiful. I had not thought of it before, either." + +"Drop me down, now, in the States, Mr. Farwell, and I fancy that with my +looks and my dancing I might--well, go! What do you think?" + +She was preening herself before a small mirror and did not notice the +elderly man, who, under her fascination, was being transformed. + +"You're a regular Frankenstein," he muttered, while the consciousness +of the blue eyes in the dusky skin, the long slenderness of her body, +and the hue of her strange hair grew upon him. "Do you know what a +Frankenstein is?" + +"No." And now Priscilla, weary of her play and self-contemplation, turned +about and took a chair opposite Farwell. "Tell me." + +So he told her, but she shook her head. + +"You've only helped me to find myself; you did not make me," she said +with a little sigh. "Oh, Mr. Farwell, I do--much thinking up at Lonely +Farm. The winters are long, and the nights, too. You know there is a +queer little plant beside the spring at the foot of our garden; it has +roots long enough and thick enough for a thing twice its size. It grew +strong and sure underground before it ventured up. It blossomed last +summer; an odd flower it had. I think I am like that. You've taught me +to--well, know myself. I shall not shame you, Master Farwell. You know we +of the lonesome In-Place make friends with strange objects; everything in +nature talks to us, if we will but listen. You have taught me to listen, +too. Back a piece in the woods are a strong young hemlock and a little +white birch. For years I have watched and tended them. When I was a small +girl I likened the hemlock to you, sir, and there was I, leaning and +huddling close to you, like the ghostly stripling of the woods. Well, I +noticed to-day, Mr. Farwell, the birch stands quite securely; it doesn't +bend for support on the hemlock, but it is standing friendly all the +same. I think"--and here Priscilla clasped her hands close and +outstretched them--"I think I am soon going away!" + +Her eyes were tear-dimmed, her face very earnest. + +"I wish--you would give up the childish folly, Priscilla." A fear rose +in Farwell's eyes. "What could you, such an one as you have become, do +out--in the States? It is madness--sheer, brutal madness." + +Priscilla shook her head. + +"You think it childish folly? Why, I have never lost sight of it for a +day. You have not understood me if you have imagined that. I have always +known I must go. Lately I have felt the nearness of the going, and it is +the _how_ to break away and begin that puzzle me. I am ready." + +"Priscilla, you are a wild child still, playing with dangerous tools. +You cannot comprehend the trouble into which you are willing, in your +blindness, to plunge. Why, you are a--a woman; a beautiful one! Do you +know what the world does with such, unless they are guarded and +protected?" + +"What does it do?" The true eyes held Farwell commandingly, and with a +sense of dismay he looked back at the only world he really knew: the +world of his own ungoverned passions and selfishness. A kind of shame +came over him, and he felt he was no safe guide. There were worlds and +worlds! He had sold his birthright; this woman, bent upon finding hers, +might inherit a fairer kingdom. + +"What does it do, Master Farwell?" + +"I do not know. It depends upon--you. It is like a great quarry--I have +read somewhere something like this--we must all mould and chisel our +characters; some of us crush them and chip them. It isn't always the +world's fault. God help us!" + +Priscilla looked at him with large, shining eyes and the maternal in her +rose to the call of his sad recognition of failure where she was to go +with such brave courage. + +"Do not fear for me," she said gently; "'twould be a poor return if I +failed, after all you have done for me." + +"I--what have I done?" + +"Everything. Have you ever thought what sort I would have been had Lonely +Farm been my only training?" she smiled faintly, and her girlish face, in +the setting of the faded hat and soiled veil, struck Farwell again by its +change, which now seemed to have settled into permanency. Of course it +was only the ridiculous fashion of the world he once knew, but he could +not free himself of the fancy that Priscilla was more her real self in +the shabby trappings than she had ever been in the absurd costumes of the +In-Place. + +With the acceptance of the fact that the girl really meant to get away +and at once, a wave of dreariness swept over him. He thought of the time +on ahead when his last vital interest would be taken from him. Then he +aroused from his stupor and brought his mind to bear upon the inevitable; +the here and now. + +"It's a big drop in your ambition, Priscilla," he said; "you used to +think you could dance your way to your throne." + +"There is no throne now, Master Farwell. I'm just thinking all the time +of My Road." + +"But there's the Heart's Desire at the end, you know." + +"Yes; but I do not think I would want it to be a throne." + +"What then?" + +"Oh! love--my own life--the giving and giving just where I long to give. +It's splendid to tramp along your road, if it _is_ your road, and be +jolly and friendly with those you care for. It will all be so different +from Kenmore, where one has to take what one must." + +"I wonder how Jerry-Jo will feel about all this?" + +"Jerry-Jo! And what right has he to think at all--about me?" + +The girl's eyes flashed with mischief and daring. + +"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed with amusement. "Just big, Indian-boy Jerry-Jo! +We've played together and quarrelled together, but you're all wrong, +Master Farwell, if you think he cares about me! He knows better than +that--far, far, better." + +But even as she spoke the light and fun left her eyes. She looked older, +more thoughtful. + +"Isn't it queer?" she said after a pause. + +"What, Priscilla?" + +"Oh, life and people and the things that go to their making? You're quite +wrong about Jerry-Jo. I'm sure you're wrong." + +Then suddenly she sprang up. + +"I must go," she said abruptly; "go and exchange these rags for my own +plain things. I only wanted to surprise you, sir; and how deadly serious +we have grown." + +She passed out of the cottage without a word more. Farwell watched her +across the Green and up to the Lodge. He was disturbed and restless. The +old fever of escape overcame him. With the thought of Priscilla's flight +into the open, he strained against the trap that Ledyard had caught him +in. The guide who, he knew, never permitted him to escape his vigilance, +became a new and alarming obstacle, and Farwell set his teeth grimly. +Then he muttered: + +"Curse him! curse him!" and an emotion which he had believed was long +since dead rose hotly in his consciousness. Before the dread spectre, +suddenly imbued with vitality, Farwell reeled and covered his face. +Murder was in his heart--the old madness of desire to wipe out, by any +means, that which barred his way to what he wanted. + +"My God!" he moaned; "my God! I--I thought I--was master. I thought it +was dead in me." + +Farwell ate no evening meal that night. Early he closed and locked his +outer door, drew the dark green shades, and lighted his lamp. His hands +were clammy and cold, and he could not blot out with book or violin the +horror of Charles Martin's face as it looked up at him that night so long +ago. Way on toward morning Farwell paced his room trying to forget, but +he could not. + +But Priscilla, after leaving Farwell, dressed again in her plain +serviceable gown and hat, had made her way toward the farm. Her happy, +light-hearted mood was past; she felt unaccountably gloomy, and as she +walked on she sought to explain herself to herself, and presently +Jerry-Jo came into focus and would not stir from her contemplation. Yes, +it was Jerry-Jo's personality that disturbed her, and it was Farwell's +words that had torn the shield she herself had erected, and set the truth +free. Yes, she had played with Jerry-Jo; she had tested her coquetry and +charm upon him for lack of better material. In her outbreaks of youthful +spirits she had claimed him as prey because the others of his sex were +less desirable. Jerry-Jo had that subtle, physical attraction that +responded to her youthful allurements, but the young fellow himself, +taken seriously, repelled her, and Farwell had taken Jerry-Jo seriously! + +That was it! She was no longer a child. She was a woman and must remember +it. Undoubtedly Jerry-Jo himself had never given the matter a moment's +deep thought. Well, she must take care that he never did. Jerry-Jo in +earnest would be unbearable. + +And then, just as she reached the pasture bars separating her father's +farm from the red rock highway, Jerry-Jo McAlpin strode in sight from the +wood path into which the highway ran. She waited for him and gave him a +nervous smile as he came near. His first words startled her out of her +dull mood. + +"I've been up to the Hill Place. Him and her's there for a few days." + +"Him and her!" Priscilla repeated, her face flushing. "Oh, him and her!" + +"Sure!" McAlpin was holding her with a hard, fixed gaze. + +In the mesh that was closing about Priscilla, strangely enough names +were always largely eliminated. They might have altered her course later +on, might have held her to the past, but Kenmore dealt briefly with +personalities and visualized whatever it could. The name Travers had +rarely, if ever, been spoken in Priscilla's presence. "The Hill Place +folks" was the title found sufficient for general use. + +"And I was remembering," Jerry-Jo went on, "how once you said you wanted +to thank him for--for the books. We might take the canoe, come to-morrow, +and the day is fine, and pay a visit." + +Still Priscilla did not notice the gleam in McAlpin's keen eyes. + +"Oh! if I only dared, Jerry-Jo! What an adventure it would be, to be +sure. And how good of you to think of it." + +"What hinders?" + +"Father would never forgive me!" + +"And are you always to be at the beck and whistle of your father even in +your pleasures?" + +Priscilla was in just the attitude of mind to receive this suggestion +with appreciation. + +"There's no reason why I shouldn't go if I want to," she said with an +uplift of her head. + +"And--don't you want to?" Jerry-Jo's eyes were taking in the loveliness +of the raised face as the setting sun fell upon it. + +"Yes, I do want to! I'll go, Jerry-Jo." + +Then McAlpin came close to her and said in a low voice: + +"Priscilla, give us a kiss for pay." + +So taken out of herself was the girl, so overpowered by the excitement +of adventure, that before she realized her part in the small drama of +passionate youth, she gave a mocking laugh and twisted her lips saucily. + +Jerry-Jo had her in his arms on the instant, and the hot kiss he pressed +on her mouth roused her to fury. + +"If you ever touch me again," she whispered, struggling into freedom, +"I'll hate you to the last day of my life!" + +So had she spoken to her father years ago; so would she always speak when +her reservations were threatened. "I declare I am afraid to go with you +to-morrow." + +McAlpin fell back in shamed contrition. + +"You need not be afraid," he muttered. "I reckon I was bidding +you--good-bye. Him and me is different. Once you see him and he sees you, +it's good-bye to Jerry-Jo McAlpin." + +Something in the words and tone of humility brought Priscilla, with a +bound, back to a kindlier mood. After all, it was a tribute that McAlpin +was paying her. She must hold him in check, that was all. + +They parted with no great change. There had been a flurry, but it had +served to clear the atmosphere--for her at least. + +But Nathaniel, that evening in the kitchen, managed to arouse in the girl +the one state of mind needed to drive her on her course. + +"What was the meaning of that scuffling by the bars a time back?" he +asked, eyeing Priscilla with the old look of suspicious antagonism. Every +nerve in the girl's body twitched with resentment and her spirit flared +forth. She shielded herself behind the one flimsy subterfuge that Glenn +could never understand or tolerate. + +"A kiss you mean. What's a kiss? You call that a scuffle?" + +Theodora, who was washing the tea dishes while Priscilla wiped them, took +her usual course and began to cry dispiritedly and forlornly. + +"What's between you and--McAlpin?" Nathaniel asked, scowling darkly. + +"Between us? What need for anything between us?" + +Priscilla ceased smiling and looked defiant. + +"Maybe you better marry that half-breed and have done with it." + +"It's more like--would _he_ marry me?" + +This was unfortunate. + +"And why not?" Nathaniel shook the ashes from his pipe angrily. "A little +more such performance as I saw to-day and no decent man will marry you! +As for Jerry-Jo, he'll marry you if I say so! You foul my nest, miss, and +out you go!" + +"Husband! husband!" And with this Theodora dropped a cup, one of Glenn's +mother's cups, and somehow this added fire to his fury. + +"And when the time comes, wife, you make your choice: Go with her, who +you have trained into what she is, or stay with me who has been defied in +his own home, by them nearest and closest to him." + +Priscilla breathed fast and hard. The tangible wall of misunderstanding +between her and her father stifled her to-night as it never had before. +Again she realized the finality of something--the breaking of the old +ties, the helpless sense of groping for what lay hidden, but none the +less real, just on before. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The next day was gloriously clear and threateningly warm. Such days do +not come to Kenmore in September except to lure the unheeding to acts of +folly. And at two o'clock in the afternoon Priscilla, from the kitchen +door, saw Jerry-Jo paddling his canoe in still, Indian fashion around +Lone Tree Island. Theodora was off erranding, and Nathaniel, as far as +human knowledge went, was in some distant field; he had started off +directly after dinner. Priscilla was ready for her adventure. With the +natural desire of youth, she had decked herself out in her modest +finery--a stiffly starched white gown of a cheap but pretty design, a +fluff of soft lace at throat and wrist, and, over it, the old red cape +that years before had added to her appearance as she danced on the rocks. +Perhaps remembering that, she had utilized the garment and was thankful +that cloth lasted so long in Kenmore! + +The coquetry of girlhood rose happily in Priscilla's heart. Jerry-Jo had +become again simply a link in her chain of events; he had lost the +importance the flash of the evening before had given him; he was not +forgiven, but for the time he was, as a human being, forgotten. He was +Jerry-Jo who was to paddle her to her Heart's Desire! That was it, and +the old words, set to music of her own, were the signals used to attract +McAlpin's attention. But the merry call brought Glenn from out the barn +just as the canoe touched the rocks lightly, and Priscilla prepared to +step in. + +"Where you two going?" he shouted in the tone that always roused the +worst in Priscilla's nature. Jerry-Jo paused, paddle in air, but his +companion whispered: + +"Go on!" To Nathaniel she flung back: "We're going to have a bit of fun, +and why not, father? I'm tired of staying at home." + +This was unfortunate: on the home question Glenn was very clear and +decided. + +"Come back!" he ordered, but the little canoe had shot out into the +Channel. "Hi, there McAlpin, do you hear?" + +"Go on!" again whispered Priscilla, and Jerry-Jo heard only her soft +command, for his senses were filled with the loveliness of her charming, +defiant face set under the broad brim of a hat around which was twined +a wreath of natural flowers as blue as the girl's laughing eyes. + +Nathaniel, defied and helpless, stood by the barn door and impotently +fumed as the canoe rounded Lone Tree Island and was lost to his +infuriated sight. + +"You'll catch it," Jerry-Jo comforted when pursuit was impossible, and he +had the responsibility of the rebel on his hands. "I wouldn't be in your +place, and you need not drag me in, for I'd have turned back had you said +the word." + +A fleeting contempt stirred the beauty of the girl's face for a moment, +and then she told him of that which was seething in her heart. + +"What does it matter, Jerry-Jo? All my life, ever since I can remember, +I have been growing surely to what is now near at hand. I cannot abide my +father; nor can he find comfort in me. Why should I darken the lives of +my parents and have no life of my own? The lure of the States has always +been in my thought and now it calls near and loud." + +McAlpin stared helplessly at her, and her beauty, enhanced by her unusual +garments, moved him unwholesomely. + +"What you mean?" he muttered. + +"Only this: It would be no strange thing did a boy start for the States. +A little money, a ticket on a steamer, and--pouf! Off the boys and men +go to make their lives. Well, then, some day you will--find me gone, +Jerry-Jo. Gone to make my life. Will you miss me?" + +This question caused McAlpin to stop paddling. + +"You won't be--let!" he murmured; "you--a girl!" + +"I, a girl!" Priscilla laughed scornfully. "You will see. This day, after +I have thanked him up yonder, I am going to ask his mother to help me get +away. Surely a lady such as she could help me. I will not ask much of +her, only the guiding hand to a safe place where I can--live! Oh! can you +understand how all my life I have been smothered and stifled? I often +wonder what sort I will be--out there! I'm willing to suffer while I +learn, but Jerry-Jo"--and here the excited voice paused--"I have a +strange feeling of--myself! I sometimes feel as if there were two of me, +the one holding, demanding, and protecting the other. I will not have men +always making my life and shielding me; the woman of me will have its +way. Men and boys never know this feeling." + +And Jerry-Jo could, of course, understand nothing of this, but the thing +he had set out to do, more in rude, brutish fun than anything else, +assumed graver purpose. A new and ugly look grew in his bold eyes, a +sinister smile on his red mouth, which showed the points of his white, +fang-like teeth. But Priscilla, too absorbed with her own thoughts, did +not notice. + +It was four o'clock when the canoe touched the landing spot of Far Hill +Place, and Priscilla sprang out. + +"I'll bide here; don't be long," said McAlpin. + +But Priscilla paused and glanced up at the sky. + +"It's darkening," she faltered, a shyness overcoming her. "I +smell--thunder. Don't you think you better come up with me Jerry-Jo? +Suppose they are not at home?" + +"They'll be back soon in that case, and as for a shower, that would +hasten them and you would be under shelter. I can turn the canoe over me +and be dry as a mouse in a hayrick. I'll not go with you, not I. Do your +own part, with them looking on as will enjoy it." + +"I believe you are--jealous, Jerry-Jo." This was said idly and more to +fill in an awkward pause than for anything else. + +"And much good that would do me, after what you've just said. If you're +bound for the devil, Priscilla, 'tis little power I have to stay you." + +"I'm not--for the devil!" Priscilla flung back, and started sturdily up +the hill path toward the house hidden among the trees. + +Out of McAlpin's sight, the girl went more slowly, while she sought to +arrange her mode of attack. If her host were what he once was, he would +make everything easy after she recalled herself to him. As for the +mother, Priscilla had only a dim memory of her, but something told her +that the call would be a happy and memorable one after the first moment. + +A bit of tune cheered the girl; a repeating of the Road Song helped even +more, for it resurrected most vividly the young fellow who had introduced +music and happiness into her life. + +"I'll be doshed!" she cried. The word had not passed her lips for years; +it brought a laugh and a complete restoration of poise. So she reached +the house. Smoke was issuing from the chimney. A fire had been made even +on this hot day, but like enough it was to dry the place after the years +of closed doors and windows. Evidently it was a many-houred fire, for the +plume of smoke was faint and steady. The broad door was set wide but the +windows were still boarded up at the front of the house, though the side +ones had escaped that protection. + +Priscilla knocked and waited. No reply or sound came in response, and +presently a low muttering of distant thunder broke. + +"That will bring them in short order," she said, "and surely they will +not object if I make myself comfortable until they come." + +She went inside. The room had the appearance of one from which the owner +had long been absent, that unaccountable, vacant look, although a +work-bag hung on the back of a chair by the roaring fire, and a blot of +oil lay on the table near the lamp which had evidently been recently +filled. Back of these tokens lay a wide sense of desolation. + +For a moment Priscilla hesitated before sitting down; her courage failed, +but a second thought reconciled conditions with a brief stay after long +absence, and she decided to wait. + +And while she waited, suddenly and alarmingly, the storm burst! The +darkness of the room and the wooded space outside had deceived her: there +was no escape now! + +She was concerned for the people she had come to see. Jerry-Jo, she knew, +would crawl under his boat and be as dry as a tortoise in its shell. But +those others! + +With this thought she set about, mechanically, making the room +comfortable. She piled on fresh wood and noticed that it was so wet that +it sputtered dangerously. Presently the wind changed sharply, and a blast +of almost icy coldness carried the driving rain halfway across the floor. + +It was something of a struggle to close the heavy door, for it opened +outward, and Priscilla was drenched by the time it was made secure. +Breathing hard, she made her way to the fire and knelt before it. The +glow drew her attention from the darkness of the space back and around +her. + +It was unfortunate and depressing, and she had no choice but to make +herself as comfortable as she might, though a sense of painful uneasiness +grew momentarily. At first she imagined it was fear of what she must +encounter upon her return home; then she felt sure it was her dread of +meeting the people for whom she had risked so much. Finally Jerry-Jo +loomed in the foreground of her thought and an entirely new terror was +born in her soul. + +"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed aloud as his name passed her lips. "Jerry-Jo, to +be sure. My! how thankful I'd be to see him this instant!" + +And with the assertion she turned shudderingly toward the door. The gloom +behind her only emphasized her nervousness. + +"I'll--I'll have to go!" she whispered suddenly, while the wind and the +slashing of sleety rain defied her. "It will be better out of doors, bad +as it is!" + +The grim loneliness of four walls, compared with the dangers of the open, +was worse. But when Priscilla, trembling and panting, reached the door +and pushed, she found that the storm was pitting its strength against +hers and she could not budge it. + +"Oh, well," she half sobbed; "if I must, I must." And she stealthily +tiptoed back to the warmth and light as if fearing to arouse something, +she knew not what, in the dim place. + +There was no way of estimating time. The minutes were like hours and the +hours were like minutes while Priscilla sat alone. As a matter of fact, +it was after seven when steps, unmistakable steps, sounded on the porch +and carried both apprehension and relief to the storm-bound prisoner +inside. + +"Thank heaven!" breathed she, and sprang to her feet. She was midway in +the room when the door opened, and, as if flayed forward by the lashing +storm, Jerry-Jo broke into the shadow and drew the heavy oak door after +him. In a black panic of fear Priscilla saw him turn the key in the lock +before he spoke a word to her; then he came forward, flung his wet cap +toward the hearth, and laughed. + +"What's the matter?" he asked quickly as Priscilla's white face +confronted him. "Disappointed, I suppose. Do you begrudge me a bit of +warmth and shelter? God knows I'm drenched to the bone. The rain came up +from the earth as well as down from the clouds. It's a devil's storm and +no mistake. What you staring at, Priscilla? Had you forgotten me? Thought +me dead, and now you're looking at my ghost? Didn't I wait long enough +for you? Where are the--others?" + +This seemed to clarify and steady the situation and Priscilla gave a +slight laugh: + +"To be sure. You did not know. They--they were away. The storm came up +suddenly. I had to wait. You are wet through and through, Jerry-Jo. It's +good we have such a fire. You'll be comfortable in a moment. I'm glad you +came; I was getting--afraid." + +"Let's see if there is any oil in the lamp!" Jerry-Jo exclaimed. He was +in no mood for darkness himself. + +"They must have filled it before they went," Priscilla answered. "See, +there is some oil on the table." + +McAlpin struck a match and soon the room was flooded with a new +brightness that reached even to the far corners and seemed to set free +the real loneliness that held these two together. + +"I--I managed to keep this dry," McAlpin spoke huskily. "I always have +a bite with me when I take to the woods. Who can ever tell what may +happen!" + +He pushed a coarse sandwich toward Priscilla and began eating one +himself. + +"Go on!" he said. + +"I'm not hungry, Jerry-Jo, and I want to start back home at once." + +Jerry-Jo leered at her over his bread and meat. + +"What's your hurry? I want to get warm and dry before I set out again. +This is an all-nighter of a storm, if I know anything about it." + +"Get dry, of course, Jerry-Jo. It won't take long with this heat; then we +must start, storm or no storm." + +The old discomfort and unrest returned, and she fixed her eyes on +Jerry-Jo. + +"There's no great hurry," said he, munching away. "It's warm here and +cozy. What's got you, Priscilla? You was mighty keen to come, and you +ain't finished your errand yet. What's ailing you? No one could help the +storm, and we'd be swamped in the bay if we was there now." + +Priscilla got up and walked slowly toward the door, but without any +apparent reason Jerry-Jo arose also, and, still chewing his bread and +meat, backed away from the table, keeping himself between the girl and +whatever her object was. Noticing this, a real terror seized upon +Priscilla and she darted in the opposite direction, reached the hearth, +and was bending toward a heavy poker which lay there, before she herself +could have explained her motive. Jerry-Jo was alert. Tossing his food +upon the table as he strode forward, he gripped her wrist. + +"None of that!" he muttered. "What ails you, Priscilla?" They faced each +other at close range. + +"I--I am afraid of you!" + +At this McAlpin threw back his head and roared with laughter, releasing +her at the same time. With freedom Priscilla gained a bit of courage and +a keen sense of the necessity of calmness. She did not move away from +Jerry-Jo, but fixing him with her wide eyes she asked: + +"Are--are the--family here--here in Kenmore?" Suspicion and anger shook +the voice. The slow, tense words brought things down to fact. + +"No! God knows where they are! I don't know or care." + +Brought face to face with great danger, mental or physical, the majority +of people rise to the call. Priscilla knew now that she was in grave +peril--peril of a deeper kind than even her tormentor could realize. +Every nerve and emotion came to her defence. She would hold this creature +at bay as hunters hold the wild things of the woods when gun or club +fail. Then, after that, she would have to deal with what must inevitably +confront her at home. She seemed to be standing alone amid cruel and +unfamiliar foes, but she was calm! + +"You lied, then? What for?" + +"What do you think?" + +"You believe, by shutting me away from everything, every one, you can win +what otherwise you could not get?" It all seemed cruelly plain, now. She +felt she had always known it. + +"Something like that, yes. You'll come to me fast enough, after to-night. +Once you come I'll--I'll do the fair and square thing by you, Priscilla." + +The half-pleading caught the girl's thought. + +"You mean, by this device you will make me marry you? You'll blacken +my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be generous +and--marry me?" + +[Illustration: "'You mean, by this device you will make me marry you? +You'll blacken my name, bar my father's house to me, and then you will be +generous and--marry me?'"] + +Jerry-Jo dropped his bold, dark eyes. + +"I never cared for you, Jerry-Jo. I hate you, now!" + +At this McAlpin raised his head and a fierce red coloured his face. + +"You'll get over that!" he muttered. "Any port in a storm, you know. +You better not drive me now! I ain't--safe, and I've got you tight +for--to-night!" + +Suddenly the pure flame of spirituality flashed into the soul of +Priscilla Glenn. Alone, undefended, facing a hideous possibility, beyond +which lay a black certainty of desolation, she rose supreme to protect +something that her rudely aroused womanhood must defend, even by death! + +"You--beast!" she cried, and all her shrinking fear fell from her. "Go +back! Sit down! I have something to say to you--before----" She did not +finish, but the pause made Jerry-Jo understand that she recognized her +position. + +"I'll stand here, by God!" he almost shouted, and came close. + +The proximity of the rough, coarse body was the one thing the girl felt +she could not bear. She smelled the odour of his wet clothing, felt his +breath, and she shrank back a step. + +"This--this body, Jerry-Jo McAlpin," she whispered, "is all you can +touch. That, I will kill to-morrow--the next day--it does not matter. But +the soul of me shall haunt you while you live. Night and day it shall +torment and clutch you until it brings your sinful spirit to--to God!" + +"You--you devil!" cried McAlpin, all the superstitious fear of his mixed +blood chilling him. "You----" And then as if daring the fate she had it +in her power to evoke, he rushed toward her and clasped her close in his +strong arms. His face was bent over hers, his lips parted from his cruel +teeth, but he did not force them upon her. + +So here she was--she, Priscilla Glenn, in the jaws of death, she who +would have laughed, danced, and sang her way straight into happiness! +Here she was, with what on ahead--if she lived? + +She waited, she struggled, then she relaxed in the iron hold, and for a +moment, only a moment, lost the sense of reality. Presently words that +McAlpin was saying came to her in the black stillness of her +consciousness. + +"I had--to have you! Now that I've shown you my power, I can wait until +you come whining to me. I ain't going to hurt you! I want you as you are +when you come a-begging of me. I only wanted to prove to you that--I've +got you!" + +Again Priscilla was aware of the red warmth of the fire, the sickening +smell of drying wool, the loosening of the bands of McAlpin's arms. + +"You--you who boast that when you hunt, out of season, you shoot +one shot in the air in order to give a poor wild thing a chance of +escape--you bring me here with a lie; close every hope to me, +and--call that--victory! You--you--fiend! What do you mean?" + +She was standing free at last! She was so weak that she staggered to a +chair, fearing that McAlpin, seeing her need, might again lay hands upon +her. + +"I mean--that I've fired my shot!" Her words had caught his fancy. "You +have your chance to--to get away! But where? Where?" + +The dark face leered. + +"See! I'm going to leave you. Go out into the night. You can try for +your--your life, but in the end you'll come to me. I don't care what they +of Kenmore will say, I'll know you are--what you are, and sympathy will +be with me, gal, when I take you. And you'll know, once you come to me, +proper and asking, I'll do--I'll do the best any man could do--for--I +love you!" + +This was flung out desperately, defiantly. + +"Yes, I love you as--Jerry-Jo McAlpin knows how to love. It's his way. +Remember that!" + +Not a word rose to Priscilla's lips. She saw McAlpin turn and stride to +the door; she heard him turn the key and--she was alone! But a strange +thing happened just at that moment, a thing that did more to unnerve the +girl than anything that had gone before. As the heavy oak door slammed +after the retreating figure, the jar caused the tall clock, back among +the shadows of the far side of the room, to strike! One, two, three! +Then followed a whirring that faded into deathly silence. It was like the +voice of one, believed to be dead, speaking! + +Frightened, but thoroughly roused to her only hope, Priscilla staggered +to the door, clutched the key in cold, trembling fingers, and turned it +in the lock. Then, sinking upon her knees, she crept back to the fire, +keeping close to the wall. If an eye were pressed to a knothole in the +shutter it could not follow her. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Priscilla kept the fire alive. She laid the sticks and logs on +cautiously; she turned wide eyes now and again on the tall clock whose +white face gleamed pallidly among the shadows like a dead thing that had +used its last breath to speak a message. If the clock struck again +Priscilla felt that she might go mad. + +It was after midnight when Nature laid a commanding and relentless touch +upon the girl, and, crouching by the hearth, her head in her arms folded +upon a chair, she slept. + +Outside the storm sobbed itself into silence; the rain dripped +complainingly from the roof of the porch and then ceased. At five o'clock +the new day, rosy and full of cheer, made itself felt in the dim room +where Priscilla, breathing evenly and softly, still slept. No gleam of +brightness made its way through the heavy shutters or curtains, but a +consciousness of day at last roused the sleeper. At first the experience +through which she had passed made no demand upon her. She got painfully +upon her feet and looked about. The fire was but embers, the air was hot +and stifling, and then, with the thought of opening a door or window, the +grim spectre of the black hours lay warning touch upon her. She shrank +back and began again to--wait! Of course McAlpin would return--and what +lay before her when he did? Her strength was spent, lack of food----And +here her eyes fell on the broken fragments of stale bread and meat that +Jerry-Jo had tossed aside. + +She took the morsels and devoured them eagerly; the nerves of the stomach +were calling for nutrition, and even the coarse crumbs gave relief. + +The moments passed slowly, but presently, with the knowledge that day lay +beyond her prison, she gained a new, a more desperate courage. If she +must die, she would die in the open, where she at least might test her +pitiful strength against Jerry-Jo's did he pursue her. The determination +to act gave relief. The dark, damp room she could no longer bear; the +lamp had hours before ceased to burn; the smell of stale oil smoke was +sickening. No matter what happened she felt she must make a break for +freedom. She knew full well that should Jerry-Jo enter now she could not +combat him. + +Then, for the first time, she wondered why no one had come to seek her +through the long, black hours of the night. The men of Kenmore never +permitted a wanderer to remain unsought; there was danger. Why, even her +father could not be so--so hard as to sleep undisturbed while she was +unhoused! And her mother? Oh! surely her mother would have roused the +people! And Anton Farwell? Why, he would have started at once, as he +had for the McAdam boys. And with that conclusion came a new hope: + +"If they are searching it will be on the water!" + +Of course. Cheered by this thought, Priscilla made her way silently +toward the door. With trembling fingers she turned the key and pushed +gently outward. Through the crack the sun poured, and oh, the fresh +sweetness of the morning air! Again she pushed, once again, and then with +a rush she dashed through and was a hundred feet down the path when a +loud laugh stayed her like a shot from a gun. + +She turned and braced herself against a tree for support. Jerry-Jo, +pressed close to the house and not a foot from the door through which she +had come, again shrieked with laughter. Presently he conquered himself, +and, without moving, said: + +"You're free! The canoe's ready for you, too. Go home--if you want--go +home and get what's coming to you! I've been busy. There's a boat +stopping at the wharf to-night. I'm leaving for the States. I've told +them, as will pass it on, that you and me are going together. I'll stand +by it, too, God hears me!" + +"My--my father will kill you when he knows of this night!" + +Priscilla flung the words back savagely. She knew now that she was +free--free for what? Again Jerry-Jo's laugh taunted her, and as she +turned to the path her father faded from her hope. Only Anton Farwell +seemed to loom high. Just and resourceful, he would help her! + +The soggy, mossy path made heavy travelling for weary, nervous feet, but +at the foot of the hill Priscilla saw the little canoe bobbing at the +side of the dock. Once out upon the sunlit water the soul-horror +disappeared and the task before her appeared easy. Now that the real +danger was past, her physical demands seemed simple and well within her +control. If her father turned her away--and as she drew near to Lonely +Farm she felt that he probably would--she would go to Farwell, and from +him, with his assistance, go to the States. The time had come--that was +all--the time had come! She was as ready as she ever would be. She had +herself well in hand before she stepped from the canoe at the foot of her +father's garden. + +The only signs of anxiety in evidence about the house were Nathaniel's +presence in the kitchen at eleven in the morning, and Theodora's red and +swollen eyes as she bent over the dishwashing of a belated breakfast. + +"Mother! Father!" + +They turned and gazed at the pale, dishevelled girl in the doorway. +Neither spoke and Priscilla asked: + +"May I come in?" + +Had she wept, or flung herself upon their mercy, Nathaniel could have +understood, but her very calmness and indifference angered him, coming as +it did upon his real anxiety. He had not heard the village gossip that +Long Jean had already started. He had been out alone most of the night on +the water, and the relief of seeing his girl alive and unharmed turned +his earlier emotions to bitterness. + +"Yes, come in," he said sternly. "Where have you been?" + +Had Priscilla been given more time, had she been less physically spent, +she would have protected herself from her father's thought; as it was she +could only summon enough strength to parry his questions with truthful +answers, and until it was too late she did not realize how they damned +her. + +"Up at--at--Far Hill Place." + +"All night?" + +"Yes." + +"With----" + +"With--with Jerry-Jo McAlpin." + +"Oh!" This came like a snake's warning. + +"The--the storm was--oh! Father----" + +"The storm!" roared Nathaniel; "the storm! Are you sugar or salt? Have +you so little morality that you choose to stay overnight with a man in a +lonely house instead of coming wet but clean-charactered to your safe +home?" + +And then Priscilla understood! She had come into the room and was sitting +near the door she had closed behind her. She, on the sudden, seemed to +grow old and strong; the ancient distrust and dislike of her father +overcame her; she looked at her mother, bent and sobbing over the sink, +and only for _her_ sake did she continue the useless conversation. + +"You--you judge me unheard!" she went on, addressing Nathaniel with an +anger, glowing in her eyes, that equalled his own. + +"Have you not just incriminated yourself--you!" + +"Stop! Do you think that is all? Do you think I would have stayed +there--if--if----" Here the memory of what she had endured choked her. + +"A woman who puts herself in a man's power as you have can expect no +mercy." Nathaniel stormed. + +"Why?" + +"Because it is God's law. All decent women know it. That is what I've +feared for you always, but I'll still stand by you if you show reason. +I'll do it for your mother's sake and my good name. He shall marry you, +by God! Say the word and I'll bring him here." + +Priscilla's upper lip twitched. This was a trick her nerves had of +warning her, but she heeded not. + +"You--you would _force_ me to marry Jerry-Jo even against his will? +You would make that little hell for me without even knowing what has +happened? You'd fling me in it to--to save your name?" + +"You've made your own hell! No matter what has happened, there is only +one way out for you. If you refuse that----" And here Nathaniel flung his +big arms wide, as if pushing his child out--out! + +With white face but blazing eyes Priscilla got up and went over to her +mother. She drew the bowed and quivering form toward her and looked +straight into the tear-flooded eyes. + +"Mother, tell me, do you believe me--dishonoured?" + +The contact of the dear, strong young body gave Theodora power to say: + +"Oh! my dear, my dear, I cannot, I will not believe evil of you. But you +must do what your father thinks best; it is the only way. You have been +so heedless, my child, my poor child." + +"You--side with her?" thundered Nathaniel, feeling himself defied. "Then +heed me! If she refuses, out you go with her! No longer will I live with +my family divided against me. The world with her, or the home with me!" + +Then suddenly and quite clearly Priscilla saw the only way open to her, +the only way that led to even the poor peace she yearned to leave to the +sad, little, clinging, broken creature looking piteously up at her. + +"My child, my child, your father knows best." + +"There! there mother. Now listen!" + +Still holding Theodora, she looked over the gray head at her father's +cruel face. + +"I have only to tell you," she said slowly and with deadly hardness, "you +will not have to force Jerry-Jo McAlpin to marry me; he's eager enough to +do it. He leaves to-night for the States; he has arranged for me to go +with him." She paused, then went on, speaking now to her mother: + +"As God hears me, I am not dishonoured, little mother. I will never bring +dishonour upon you. I could have explained to you--you would have +understood, but father--never! I am going to the States. Good-bye." + +"My child! oh! my girl!" + +"Good-bye, dear mother." + +"Oh, Priscilla! Do not leave us so!" + +"This is the only way." + +"But, you--you are not yet wedded." + +Priscilla smiled. + +"You must leave that to Jerry-Jo and me. And now a kiss--and the dear +cheek against mine. So!" + +"But you will come back----" Theodora sank gently to the floor. She had +fainted quite away! + +Priscilla bent with her, she lifted the white head to her knee, and again +addressed her father. + +"You are satisfied?" she asked. The shield was down between them. Man and +woman, they stared, understandingly, in each other's eyes. + +"Leave her to me!" commanded Nathaniel, and strode toward the prostrate +form. + +"You've lied first and last. Neither McAlpin nor any other honest man +will have you! Go!" + +"I will go and--my hate I leave with you!" + +And when Theodora opened her eyes she was lying on the rough couch in the +sunny kitchen, and Nathaniel was bathing her face with cool water. + +"The child?" faltered the mother, looking pleadingly around. And then +Nathaniel showed mercy, the only mercy in his power. + +"She's gone to McAlpin. They leave for the States to-night. It's you and +I alone now to the end of the way." + +"Husband, husband! We've been hard on her; we've driven her to----" + +"Hush, you! foolish one. Would you defy God? Each one of us walks the +path our feet are set upon. 'Twas fore-ordained and her being ours makes +no difference. Every light woman was--some one's, God knows--and with Him +there be no respecter of persons." + +"Oh! but if you had only been kinder. It seems as if we haven't gone +beside her on her path. Couldn't we have drawn her from it--if we had +expected different of her? Oh! I shall miss her sore. The loneliness, the +loneliness with her out of the days and the long nights." + +Theodora was weeping again desolately. + +"Be grateful, woman, that worse has not come to us." + +Now that the deathlike faint was over, Nathaniel's softening was passing. + +"And she went from our door hungry, the poor dear! We wouldn't have +treated a beggar so." + +"Had she come as a suppliant, all would have been different." + +Then Theodora sat up, and a kind of frenzy drove her to speak. + +"She had something to tell! You did not let her say her say. _What_ kept +her away all night? Jerry-Jo McAlpin has the devil blood in him when he's +up to--to pranks. Suppose----" A sort of horror shook the thin, livid +face. Nathaniel, in spite of himself, had a bad moment; then his hard +common sense steadied him. + +"Would she go to him, if what you fear was true?" + +"Has she gone to him?" + +"Where else then--and all Kenmore not know? Wait till to-morrow before +you leap to the doing of that which you may regret. Calm yourself and +wait until to-morrow." + +And Theodora waited--many, many morrows. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +"And you see, Master Farwell, I cannot go back to my father's house." + +It was after nine of the evening of the day Priscilla Glenn had left +home. She had reached Farwell's shack without being seen. By keeping to +the woods and watching her opportunity, she had gained the rear of the +schoolhouse, entered while Farwell was absent, and breathed freely only +after securing the door. + +The master had returned an hour later and, the gossip of the Green +ringing in his ears, confronted the white, silent girl with no questions, +but merely a glad smile of relief. He had insisted upon her taking food, +drink, and rest before explaining anything, and Priscilla had gratefully +obeyed. + +"I'll gather all the news that is floating about," Farwell had comforted +her. "Sleep, Priscilla. You are quite safe." Then he went out again. + +So she had eaten ravenously and slept far into the early evening while +Anton Farwell went about listening to all who talked. It was a great day +for Kenmore! + +"She and him were together all the night," panted Long Jean, about noon, +in the kitchen of the White Fish. + +"What's that?" called Mary McAdam from the closet. Jean repeated her +choice morsel, and Mary Terhune, preparing the midday meal, thrilled. + +"I was at her borning," Jean remarked, "and I minded then and spoke it +open, that she was made of the odds and ends of them who went before her. +I've a notion that the good and evil that might have thinned out over all +the Glenn girls must work out thick in Priscilla." + +"I'm thinking," Mary Terhune broke in, "that the mingling with such as +visits at the Lodge has upset the young miss. Her airs and graces! Lord +of heaven! how she has flouted the rest of the young uns! Aye, but they +are mouthing about her this day! 'Me and her,' said Jerry-Jo to me this +early morning, 'me and her got caught up in the woods, and, understanding +one another, we chose the dry to the wet, and brought things to a point. +Her and me will make tracks for the States. It's all evened up.' And I do +say," Mary went on, "that all considering, Jerry-Jo is doing the handsome +thing. I ain't picking flaws in her--maybe she's as clean as the +cleanest, but there's them who wouldn't believe it, as you both very well +know." + +This last was to include Mrs. McAdam, who had issued from the closet with +an ugly look on her thin, dark face. + +"You old harpies!" she cried, striding to the middle of the big room and +getting into position for an oratorical outburst. "You two blighted old +midwives as ought, heaven knows, to have mercy on women; you who see the +tortures of women! You would take a girl's name from her on the word of +that half-breed, who would sooner lie than steal--and both are easy to +the whelp. That girl is the straightest girl that ever walked, and no +evil has come to her from my house. A word more like that, Mary Terhune, +and you'll never share my home again, and as for you, Jean, you who +helped the lass into life, what kind of a snake-heart have you?" + +Mary McAdam had both women trembling before her. + +"I'll go up to Lonely Farm myself," screamed she, "and if Glenn and his +poor little slave-wife are doing the low trick by their girl, as God +hears me, I'll take her for my own, and turn you both back to the trade +you dishonour!" + +Anton Farwell, passing near the window, heard this and went his way. + +Later old Jerry McAlpin came to him on the wharf where the men were +gathered to meet the incoming steamer. + +"Lordy! Master Farwell," quavered Jerry; "while I was out on the bay this +early morning, my lad, what all the town is humming about, goes to my +home and takes everything--everything of any vally and leaves this----" + +McAlpin passed a dirty piece of paper to Farwell. + + "I'm going to get out on the steamer. Going to the States, and had to + have the stuff to get away with. _I--ain't--alone!_ I'm going down the + Channel to board the steamer where it stops for gasoline. _Don't_ + follow me for God's sake. I'll pay you back and more." + +Farwell read the words twice, then said: + +"Well?" + +"Shall I--stop him, Master Farwell?" + +"Can you spare what he has taken?" + +"'Tain't that, sir." + +"Then let him go! Let him have his fling." + +"They do say--Long Jean, she do say--it's Glenn's girl. My lad's been +crazy for her. I'm afraid of Glenn." + +"Let things alone, McAlpin. This is your time to lie low and hold your +tongue." + +Farwell tore the paper in shreds and cast them to the wind. + +The steamer came in at eight. At nine-thirty it left the wharf, and, a +mile down the Channel, stopped at the little safety station to take on +oil and gasoline. Tom Bluff, a half-breed, had the place in charge, and +later that evening he put the finishing touch to the day's gossip. + +"'Twas Jerry-Jo, as you live, who jumped aboard, taking the last can I +was hauling up with him. So in a hurry was he that he nigh pushed some +one down who was in front of him. + +"'Where going?' calls I. 'To the States,' he says back, and picks up the +young person he nigh knocked down." + +Long Jean, to whom Tom was confiding this, drew near. + +"Who was the young person?" whispered she, with the fear of Mary McAdam +still upon her. + +"Her face? I did not see her face." + +"'Twas Glenn's girl," panted Long Jean; "Priscilla!" + +"Ugh!" grunted Tom as his ancestors had often grunted in the past. "Ugh!" + +That was all for the day, and behind closed doors and windows Kenmore +slept. The storm of the previous night had been followed by a cold wave, +and upon Farwell's hearth a fire crackled cheerily. + + * * * * * + +"And so, you see, I cannot go back to my father's house." + +Farwell bent his head over his folded arms. + +"But Mrs. McAdam will take you in, Priscilla. After things calm down and +the truth is accepted, your people will forgive and forget. You poor +child!" + +Priscilla closed her lips sharply. Her eyes were very luminous, very +tender, as they rested upon Farwell, but her heart knew no pity for her +father. + +"How old one grows, Master Farwell, in--a night," she said with a quiver +in her voice. "I went happily away with Jerry-Jo, quite, quite a girl, +only yesterday. I had the feeling of a child trying to make believe I was +a woman. I wanted to show my father he could no longer control me as he +always had before. I--I wanted to have my way, and then my way brought me +to--those black hours of horror when something in me died forever and +something new was born. And how strange, Master Farwell, that when I +could think at all clear--you stood out as my only friend. I seemed to +know how it would be with my father and my poor mother. My father has +always expected evil of me, and something in me seemed ever to work +against the good of me, to give him cause for believing me wrong. But +you saw the good, my friend, and to you I come--a woman, now. I do not +know the language of what I feel here"--she pressed her hands to her +heart--"but I feel sure you will understand. I cannot stay in Kenmore! +I do not want to. Always I have wanted to have a bigger place, a larger +opportunity, and even if Kenmore would take me, I will not have Kenmore! +Somehow I feel as if I had never belonged here, really. You do not belong +here. Oh, Master Farwell, can you not come, too?" + +As she spoke, the old, weary look passed for an instant from her eyes; +she was a child, daring, yet fearful! Ready to go forward into the dark, +but pleading for a trusted hand to hold. And Farwell, who, could she have +known, was clinging more to her than she to him, almost groaned the one +word: + +"No!" + +"Why, oh, why, Mr. Farwell? Like father and daughter we could make our +way. I think I have never known what a father might be, but you would +show me now in my great need." + +"Hush!" Farwell's eyes held hers commandingly, entreatingly. "You must +hear what I have to say. Why do you think I have stayed in Kenmore? Why +I _must_ stay? Have you thought?" + +"No." And for the first time in her life Priscilla wondered. Before, the +man had been but part of her life; now she wondered about him, with the +woman-mind that had come so suddenly and tragically to her. + +"No, Master Farwell, why?" + +"Because--well, because Kenmore is my grave--must always be my grave. I'm +dead. Good people, just people said I was dead. I am dead. Alive, I would +be a menace, a curse. Dead, I am safe. I've paid my debt, and you, you, +the people of my grave, since you do not know, have given me a chance, +and I've been a friend among friends! Why, I've even come to a +consciousness that--perhaps it is best for me to be dead, for back there, +back among the living, the thing I once was might assert itself again." + +The bitterness, the pitiful truthfulness, of Farwell's voice and words +sank deep into Priscilla's heart. Out of them she instantly accepted one +great, vital fact: he was in Kenmore as a refugee; he had been--had +done--wrong! With the acceptance of this, a strange thing happened. +Curiosity, even interest, departed. For no reason that she could have +classified, Priscilla Glenn fiercely desired to--keep Farwell! If she +knew what he seemed bent upon telling, he might take away her faith--her +only support. She would keep and hold to what she believed him, what he +had been since he came to the In-Place. It was childish, blind perhaps, +but her words were those of a determined woman. + +"Master Farwell, I will not listen to you. If you are dead, and are +safe, dead, I will not look into the grave. All my life you have been +good to me, been my only friend; you shall not take yourself from me! And +I--please let me do this one little thing for you--let me prove that I +can love and honour you without--explanation!" + +Farwell's face twitched. He struggled to speak, and finally said +unsteadily: + +"I have been--good, as you say, because I had to be. At any moment +I might have been what I once was. Why, girl, without knowing it, +Kenmore--all of you--had it in your power to fling me to the dogs had +you known, so you see----" + +But Priscilla shook her head. + +"You did not have to risk your life as you did for the McAdam boys. +Perhaps you do not know how you have--grown in your grave, Master +Farwell. Trust and liking come hard to us in Kenmore, yet not one of us +doubts you. No, no, lie quiet. I do not want to see you as you remember +yourself; you are better as you are. I will not hear; I will not have it +in my thought when I am far away." + +The hardness passed from Farwell's face. Something like relief replaced +it, and he said slowly: + +"My God! what a woman you will make if they do not harry you to death." + +"They will not!" The white, tired face seemed illumined from within. +"Last night made me so sure--of myself. It showed me how weak I was, +and how strong. Do you know"--and here a flush, not of ignorance, +but of strange understanding, struck across Priscilla's face like a +flame--"women like my mother, all the women here in Kenmore, do not +understand? They just let people take from them what no one has a right +to take, what only they should give! It's when this something is taken +that they become like my poor mother--afraid and crushed. If I live and +die alone and lonely, I shall keep what is my own until I--I give it +gladly and because I trust. I am not afraid! But if I had married +Jerry-Jo because of--of--what he and my father thought, then I would have +been lost, like my mother, don't you see? I--I can--live alone, but I +will not be lost." + +"But, great heavens! you are a woman!" + +"Is it so sad a thing to be a--woman? Why?" + +To this Farwell made no reply. Shading his gloomy eyes with his thin +hand, he turned from the courageous, uplifted face and sighed. Finally he +spoke as if the fight had all gone from him. + +"Stay here. The thing you want isn't worth the struggle. There is no use +arguing, but I urge you to stay. The In-Place is safer for you. What is +it that you must have?" + +Priscilla laughed--a wild, dreary little sound it was, but it dashed hope +from Farwell's mind. + +"I want my chance, a woman's chance, and I cannot have it here. I'm not +going to hide under Mrs. McAdam's wing, or even yours, Master Farwell. +I've left all the comfort with my poor mother that I can. Never let her +know the truth, now I am going--going to start on My Road! I do not care +where it leads, it is mine, and I am not afraid." + +In her ignorance and defiance she was splendid and stirred the dead +embers of Farwell's imagination to something like life. If she were +bent upon her course, if his hand could not rest upon the tiller of her +untested craft when she put out to sea, what could he do for her? To whom +turn? + +"Is there not one, Master Farwell, just one, out beyond the In-Place, +who, for your sake, would help me at first until I learned the way?" + +The question chimed in with Farwell's thought. + +He leaned across the table separating him from Priscilla Glenn and asked +suddenly: + +"Can you keep a secret?" + +Promptly, emphatically, the answer came. "Yes, I can." + +"Then listen! You must stay here, hide yourself, keep yourself as best +you may, while I go to--make arrangements. I will be no longer than I can +help, but it will take time. The house is well stocked; make yourself +comfortable. There are days when no one knows whether I am here or +elsewhere. Protect yourself until I return. And when"--Farwell paused and +moistened his lips--"when you are over the border, in the whirlpool, the +past, this life, must be forgotten. Raise up a high wall, Priscilla, that +no one can scale. Begin your new life from the hour you reach the States. +The one who will befriend you need know no more than I tell him; others +must take you on faith. At any moment your father, or some one like +Jerry-Jo, might hound you unless you live behind a shield. You +understand?" + +He did not plead for his own safety, and he was, at that moment, humanly +thinking of hers alone. + +"If you get the worst of it, come back; but leave the gate open only +for--yourself." + +"Yes, yes." And now Priscilla's eyes were shining like stars. "I will do +all that you say; I feel so brave and strong and sure. I want the test, +and I will leave the door to Kenmore ajar until the day when I can push +it wide and enter as I will, taking or bringing my dear friends with me. +I see"--she paused and her eyes grew misty--"I see My Road, stretching on +and on, and it ends--oh, Master Farwell, it ends in my Heart's Desire!" +She was childishly elated and excited. + +Farwell was fascinated. + +"Your Heart's Desire?" he muttered; "and what is that?" + +"Who knows until--she sees it? Hurry! hurry! Master Farwell, I long to +set forth." + +Forgotten was her recent experience of horror; fading already was Kenmore +from her sight. Danger by the way did not daunt her; the man bowed before +her was but a blurred speck upon her vanishing horizon; then suddenly a +sound caught her ear. + +"You--you--are"--she arose and stood beside Farwell, her hand upon his +bent shoulder--"you are crying; and for why?" + +"Loneliness, remorse, and fear for _you_, poor child." + +And then Priscilla came back to the grim room and the cowering form. + +"I will bring happiness to you," she whispered; "this I swear. In some +way you shall be happy." + +But Farwell shook his head. + +"To bed," he said suddenly; "to bed, girl, and to sleep. I'll take a nap +out here on the couch. Before you awake I'll be on my way. Keep the +shades drawn; it's my way of saying I do not wish to be disturbed. Good +night, and God bless you, Priscilla." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +About two in the morning Farwell set out upon his business for Priscilla. +He left a safe and roaring fire upon the hearth; the window shades he did +not raise, and well he knew that with that signal of desire for privacy +his house would be passed by without apparent notice. The smoke might +curl from the chimney, the dogs might, or might not, materialize, but +with those close-drawn shades the simple courtesy of Kenmore would +protect the master. + +Priscilla was sleeping when Farwell silently closed the door after him, +and, followed by his dogs, provided with food and blankets, he +noiselessly took to the shadowy woods. It was a starry, still hour, +lying between night and morning, and it partook of both. Dark it was, but +with that silvery luminosity which a couple of hours later would be +changed to pink glow. The stars shone, and the one great, pulsing planet +that hung over the sleeping village seemed more gloriously near than +Farwell had ever before noticed it. All nature was waiting for the magic +touch of day; soon action and colour and sound would stir; just then the +hush and breathlessness were a strange setting for the lonely man moving +forward into the deeper shadows followed close by his faithful dogs. This +man who, in the mad passion of his blighted youth, had taken life as if +it were but one of the many things over which he claimed supremacy, with +bowed head and slow steps, was going on an errand of mercy; he was going +to claim, for a helpless human creature, assistance from the only man in +all God's world upon whom he could call with hope of success. + +The program, the next few days, was as clear in Farwell's mind as if he +had already followed it from start to finish. By eight Pine would be on +his tracks; by noon they would be together, the dogs grumbling and +fighting at their heels. Two nights by the fire, smoking in a dull +silence, broken now and then, in sheer desperation, by Farwell himself. + +In Ledyard's plan there had evidently been but one stipulation: the +constant guardianship with explicit reports. Beyond that there seemed to +be no exactions. Farwell had tried to make Pine drink more than was good +for him on various occasions in order to test the metal of the restraint, +but the Indian displayed a wonderful self-control. He knew when and where +to begin and stop in any self-indulgence, but having fulfilled his part +he showed no interest or curiosity in his companion. Once the trading +station was reached, Farwell might buy or seek pleasure as he chose; he +might write or receive letters; might sleep or wake. So long as the +tangible Farwell was where the guide could locate him at a moment's +notice, he was free to think and act to his own satisfaction. + +As he plodded on Farwell contemplated, as he never had before, his +relations with the Indian; in fact, the Indian himself. A superficial +friendliness had sprung up between the two. How deep was it? how much to +be depended upon? If Ledyard could buy the fellow, might not a higher +price secure his allegiance? This, strange to say, was a new thought to +Farwell. Perhaps he had accepted the situation too doggedly; it was his +way to cease struggling when the tide turned against him. It was +weakness, it was folly, and, after Priscilla went, after the girl opened +the doors again into that old life, how could he endure the loneliness, +the tugging of her hold upon him from the place he once had called his? + +The day came late to the deep woods beyond Kenmore, and Farwell seemed +going toward the night instead of facing the morning. At five he paused +to feed his dogs and take a bite himself, and, as he sat upon a fallen +tree, the mystic stirrings of life thrilled him as they often had before. +It was more a sense of rustle and awakening than actual sound. Hidden +under the silence of the forest lay the quivering promises, as the rosy +light lay just on the border of the woodland. Both were pressing warm and +comfortingly close to the lonely man with his patient dogs at his feet. +Farwell was a better man, a finer man, than he knew, but only +subconsciously did this support him. + +It was three of the afternoon before he heard the quick, measured steps +on the trail behind him. He did not turn his head, but he called back a +genial "Hello!" which was answered by a grunt not devoid of friendliness. + +The evening meal was eaten together, and the two arranged their blankets +near the fire for the night's rest. Farwell's two dogs and Pine's one +faithful henchman lay down in peace a short distance away. It was as it +had been for a time back, except that the Indian had become, suddenly, +either an obstacle to be overcome or a friend to assist. Not realizing +his new importance, the guide grunted a good night and fell into that +sleep of his that never seemed to capture his senses entirely. + +At the small town, which was reached late the following day, Farwell +engaged two rooms at the ramshackle tavern and informed Pine that he was +to share the luxuries. + +This was unusual. In the past a day at the station sufficed for business +transactions, and night found them in the woods again. Pine was confused +but alert. However, things progressed comfortably enough. The expected +mail was awaiting Farwell, and he greedily bought all the newspapers he +could get. His purchases at the store did not interest the Indian and he +was not even aware that several garments for a woman were included in +Farwell's list. A telegram sent, and another received, did perturb the +fellow a good deal, but when Farwell tore the one he got into shreds, the +simple mind of the guide concluded that the matter was unimportant, and +he forgot it before they reached Kenmore. He could not burden his poor +intellect with unnecessary rubbish, and the whole business was getting on +to what stood for nerves in the Indian's anatomy. + +What really had occurred was this: Farwell had reached across the +desolate stretches that divided him from his one friend and got a +response. He had impressed upon John Boswell that he could not come in +person to Kenmore, but he could meet a certain needy young person and +convey her to safety in the States. And he had asked a question that for +months had never risen to the surface--he had been too crushed to give it +place. + +"Is Joan Moss still alive?" + +Boswell was ready to aid him in any way, would even deny himself the +longing of seeing his old friend face to face, since that seemed +desirable. He would meet the young woman at a place called Little Corners +and would do what he could for her. + +"Joan Moss is still alive." + +A strong light and a new hope came into Farwell's sad eyes. He had a hold +on the future! With the possibility of supplanting Ledyard in Pine's +ideas of loyalty and economics what might not happen? + +And so they started back. + +It was midnight, four days after Farwell had left home, that he entered +his own door again. The return trip had been rushed, much to Pine's +approbation. Priscilla was quietly sewing at the table when Farwell, +having loudly bidden the Indian good night, came into the living-room. + +The girl's alarmed glance turned to one of relieved welcome when she saw +Farwell. She had some food ready for him--every night she had been +prepared--and he ate it ravenously. She noted how white and weary he +looked, but the triumphant expression in his sad eyes did not escape her, +either. + +"You have good news?" she asked as soon as Farwell had rested a bit by +his fireside. + +"Yes. And you?" + +"Oh! I have done famously. Only two knocks at the door, and I was well +hidden. Once it was Mrs. McAdam and once old Jerry. They did not try to +enter." + +"They would not. And there was food and fuel enough?" + +"Food--yes; I went out three times for wood, and I took one wild, mad +walk. I ran, while all the world slept, to Lonely Farm. I looked in at my +father's window; he was dozing by the fire, and--my mother----" + +"Well, Priscilla?" + +"My mother--was crying! I shall always remember her--crying. I did not +know there were so many tears in the world!" + +"You--you still insist upon going away?" + +"Yes. There is no other way for me. Already I seem a stranger, a +passerby. Not even for my mother can I stay; it could work no good for +her or me. Perhaps, by and by----" Priscilla paused. Now that she was +about to turn her back on all that was familiar to her, she became +serious and intense, but she knew no shadow of wavering. + +Then Farwell told her the arrangements he had made. + +"I have a hundred dollars for you, Priscilla. I wish it were more. My +friend Boswell will meet you at Little Corners. This is Friday; he will +be there on Sunday and will wait for you at the inn; there is only one. +Ask for it and go straight to it. From here to Little Corners is the +hardest part. I will go as far as I dare with you; the rest you must make +alone. Halfway, there is a deserted shanty near the old factory; there +you can make yourself comfortable for the night. Are you afraid?" + +Priscilla was white and intent, but she answered: + +"No, I shall not be afraid." + +"You ought to cover the distance in a couple of days and a night; the +walking is not hard, and the woods are fairly well cleared. Once you +reach Boswell you are safe. He will not question you, but you can trust +him. He's a strange man--younger than I; he stands, has always stood, for +all that is noble and good in my life. I have told him that you are some +one in whom I am interested." + +The feeling of adventure closed in and clutched the girl. Now that the +hour had actually come, the hour up to which all her preparations tended, +she quivered with excitement tinged with sadness. + +"This way of leaving Kenmore is safer," Farwell was saying. "If any one +were to see you and know you, your father would find you out and bring +you back. No one will know you at Little Corners. That's a place which +most honest people let alone. You'll like Boswell--every one does--after +the first. He'll put you in the way of helping yourself, and your people +may still hold their belief about you and Jerry-Jo, since it makes things +easier for them." + +"Yes; they must believe that until----" But Priscilla did not finish the +sentence. + +The two sat silent for a few minutes while the tired dogs upon the hearth +breathed loud and evenly. Then at last Priscilla asked: + +"When do we start, Master Farwell?" + +"Start? Oh, to be sure. I had forgotten." Farwell roused himself from his +lethargy. "We start at once; in an hour or two at the latest. I will nap +here on the couch; you must rest as best you can. There's a long coat and +a hat in yonder bundle. They must serve you until you meet Boswell. He'll +rig you out in some town before you reach civilization. Here's the money; +take wallet and all. Hide it somewhere, Priscilla." Farwell was on his +feet and active once more. + +"Go in an hour or two?" gasped Priscilla absentmindedly, following +Farwell's words and accepting the money with a long, tender look of +gratitude. "In an hour or two? Why, you've only just come in, Master +Farwell!" + +"What matters? After to-morrow I shall have time to rest and sleep to my +fill." + +"You will--miss me, Master Farwell?" Priscilla's eyes were dim. "I would +like to have some one--miss me!" + +"I shall, indeed, miss you! You can never understand what you have meant +to me, Priscilla. I cannot make you understand; I shall not try; but in +helping you I have perhaps helped myself. I cannot walk out of the +In-Place beside you, as I would like to do--not now. Maybe a long time +hence, some day, I may follow!" + +Farwell's excitement showed in his eyes and voice and wiped out the +weariness of his face. + +"You mean that, Master Farwell? You are not trying to comfort me?" + +"No; I am comforting myself!" + +Then, forgetful of the need for sleep, he went on rapidly: + +"Out where you are going, Priscilla, there is a--a woman I love; she once +loved me. This must seem queer to you who have only known me as--as I now +seem. I will seem different to you when you have wakened up--seen other +kinds of men and women." + +"Is she young--pretty?" + +The senseless words escaped Priscilla's lips because quivering interest +and a strange embarrassment held her thought. + +"I--I do not know--how she is now. She _was_ pretty. Good God! how pretty +she was, and young, and kind, too. It was the kindness that mattered +most. You see, she thinks me dead; it was best so. I--I had to be dead +for a while and then I meant to go to her myself. But--something +happened. I was obliged to stay on here, and she might not have +understood. I'd like----" Farwell paused and looked pleadingly at the +white girl-face across the rude table, where the fragments of food still +lay: "I'd like you to go and see her. Boswell could take you. He's done +everything for her, God bless him! I'd--I'd like to have you tell her +gently, kindly, that I am alive. You might say it so as to spare her +shock; you might, better than any one else!" + +The longing in the man's eyes was almost more than Priscilla could +endure. Crude as she was, wrong and sinful as the man near her may at one +time have been, she knew intuitively that the love for that woman in the +States had been his consuming and uplifting passion. If he had sinned for +her, he had also died for her, and now he pleaded for resurrection in her +life. + +"I will do anything in all the world for you, Master Farwell; anything!" + +And Priscilla stretched her hands out impulsively. Farwell took them in +his cold, thin ones and clung to her grimly. + +"I'd like to know she'd welcome me!" he whispered. "Unless she could, I'd +rather stay--dead!" + +Another silence fell between the man and girl while he relived the past +and she sought to enter the future. + +The clock struck the half-hour of one and Farwell sprang up. + +"Get ready!" he said. "No time for napping now. It is--it is Saturday +morning! We must be off! I'll go with you as far as I can. For the +rest----" He stopped suddenly and looked blankly at Priscilla. + +A little after two they started away from the small, darkened house. It +was a cloudy morning; day would be long in coming, and the two made the +most of the darkness. They were well in the deep woods by six o'clock; at +seven they ate some food Farwell had hurriedly prepared, and were on +their way again by eight. They did not talk much. Priscilla found that +she needed all her strength, now that she must soon depend upon herself, +and Farwell had nothing more to say but--good-bye! + +Anton Farwell had got ahead of his spy for once! Not even so +indefatigable an Indian as Pine could be expected to watch a man who had +just returned from a long tramp. But Farwell knew full well that by high +noon his guard would have sensed danger and be uncommonly active, so he +pushed the march to Priscilla's utmost limit. + +At four o'clock they reached the deserted hut near the old factory. A +fire was made upon the hearth and a broken-down settle drawn close. + +"I'd rest until early morning," advised Farwell in a hard, constrained +voice. "Good Lord, Priscilla, it's a cruel place to leave you--alone!" + +"I shall not mind, Master Farwell." All that was brave and unselfish in +the girl rose now to the fore. She recognized that Farwell, even more +than she, needed comfort. + +"I shall never forget you," she said, holding her hands out to him; +"never forget you or cease to--love you!" + +The last words made him wince. + +"Good-bye, Priscilla." + +"Good-bye, Master Farwell." + +When the door closed upon the man, for a moment Priscilla stood with +horrified glance following him. The sense of high adventure perished at +his going. Alone in the woods, in the ghostly hut, the night to face, and +the blank future stretching beyond! It was more than she could bear, and +a cry escaped her parted lips. But Farwell did not hear, and the paroxysm +passed. + +Priscilla slept that night, slept well and safely, and the early light of +Sunday morning found her refreshed and full of courage. She never knew +that two hours after leaving her Farwell met Pine and found in him--a +friend! + +They had come face to face on a side trail. + +"Here I am!" said Farwell cheerfully; then he took his place in front of +the guide. That had always been the unspoken understanding. + +"See here, Pine, we've never said much to each other about what--all this +means, but I want to say something now. I won't give you much trouble in +the future. I shall not go often for my mail, or necessaries. In return, +forget _this_ journey. I went to let a--a poor little devil of a creature +out of a trap. That is all. I just couldn't--leave it to suffer--and I +hadn't time to call you up after our long tramp of yesterday." + +"Ugh!" came from behind. + +"Pine, can you trust me?" + +"Ugh!" But the grunt was affirmative. + +"Smoke on it, Tough?" + +And they smoked while they plodded wearily back into bondage. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Little corners, lying on the borderland of Canada and the States, +stretched like a hand, the thumb and small finger of which belonged to +the Dominion, the three digits, in between, to the sister country. Of +course it was comparatively easy to bring merchandise, and what not, +by way of the thumb and little finger and send the same forth by the +three exits, known to Timothy Goodale as "furrin parts." Timothy was +excessively British, as so many Canadians are, but he was a broad-minded +man in his sympathies, and a friend to all--when it paid. He was a man of +keen perceptions, of conveniently short memory, and had the capacity for +giving a lie all the virtuous appearance of truth and frankness. Goodale +had no family, and, as far as possible, served his guests himself. A +half-breed cooked for him; a half-witted French-Canadian girl did +unimportant tasks about the bedchambers, but the host himself took his +patrons into his own safekeeping and their secrets along with them. + +Little Corners was not a town of savoury reputation. Law-abiding folks +gave it a wide berth; tourists found nothing interesting there, and +newcomers, of a permanent type, were discouraged. For these reasons it +was the place of all places for Mr. John Boswell to enter, by way of the +long, middle finger, and meet Priscilla Glenn, who advanced via the +thumb. No one would know them; no one would remember them an hour after +they departed. + +Timothy was bustling about on a certain Sunday morning, ruminating on the +thanklessness of the task of getting ready for people who might never +appear, when, to his delight, he saw a team of weary horses advancing. He +had time only to put his features in order for business when a man +entered the room. + +No one but Goodale could have taken the shock of the traveller's +personality in just the way he did. The smile froze on his face, his eyes +beamed, and his stiff, red hair seemed bristling with welcome. "Advance +agent of a circus," he thought; "sort of advertising guy." + +The man who had entered was about three feet tall, horribly twisted as to +legs, and humped as to back and chest. The long, thin arms reached below +the bent knees, and large, white hands dangled from them as if attached +by wires. The big head, set low on the shoulders, seemed to have no +connecting link of neck. It was a great, shaggy head with deep-set, +wonderful eyes, sensitive mouth and chin, and a handsome nose. + +"Ah, sir, delighted," said Goodale. "Shall I tell your driver to go to +the stables?" + +"I'm my own driver, but I'd like your man to see to the horses. I'm John +Boswell from New York, though you'll probably forget that an hour after I +leave." + +Goodale nodded. This was quite in his line, and he suddenly became aware +of the exquisite texture and quality of the stranger's clothing; the +fineness of the piping voice. All sorts came to the inn, but this last +comer was a gentleman, for all his defects. + +"I'm expecting a young woman, a distant relative, from farther back in +Canada. I shall await her here. My stay is uncertain. Make me as +comfortable as you can; I like to be comfortable." + +"You--you are alone, sir?" + +"Until the young lady comes, yes. She is to return to the States with me. +It depends upon her how soon we travel back." + +This did away with the show business, but it added romance to the +adventure. + +Goodale made Boswell extremely comfortable, surprisingly so. Two bedrooms +were got in order as if by magic; a little sitting-room emerged from +behind closed doors; an apartment quite detached and cozy, with a +generous fireplace and accommodations for private meals. + +After a good dinner Boswell went for a stroll, telling his host to make +the young lady welcome upon her arrival. + +At half-past four Priscilla Glenn walked into the office of the inn. She +was tired and worn, rather unkempt as to appearance, but she stepped +erect and with some dignity. + +"Is--is Mr. Boswell here?" she asked. + +"He is, and then again he ain't," smiled Timothy, who was always playful +with women when he wasn't brutal. None knew better than he the use and +abuse of chivalry. + +"You are to make yourself at home, Miss; then I'll serve tea in the +sitting parlour; all quite your own and no fear of intrusion. I'm host +and servant to my guests. I never trust them to--to menials." + +"Where's my room?" Priscilla broke in abruptly. She was near the +breaking-point and she longed for privacy and shelter before she +collapsed. Her tone and manner antagonized Goodale. He understood and +recognized only two classes of women, and this girl's attitude did not +fit either class. In silence he showed her to her bedchamber, and once +the door separated him from her his smile departed and he relieved his +feelings by muttering a name not complimentary to Mr. Boswell's relative. + +The sense of safety, warmth, and creature comforts speedily brought about +courage and hope to Priscilla; a childish curiosity consumed her; she was +disappointed that Boswell did not present himself, but his absence gave +her time for rallying her forces. She found her way to the little +sitting-room by six o'clock, and, to her delight, saw that tea things +were on a table by the hearth and a kettle was boiling over the fire. + +"And so--this is Miss Priscilla Glenn?" + +So noiselessly had the man entered the room through the open door, so +kind and gentle his voice, that, though the girl started, she felt no +fear until her eyes fell upon the speaker. Boswell waited. He knew what +must follow. Readjustment always took time. In this case the time might +be longer because of the crudity of the girl. + +"Ah!" The shuddering word escaped the trembling lips and the tightly +clasped hands that had instinctively gone to the face. "Ah!" + +The man by the door sent forth a pitiful appeal for mercy and acceptance +in so sweet and rare a smile that for very shame Priscilla stood up and +smiled back wanly and apologetically. + +Boswell liked the attempt and ready willingness; they showed character. + +"Now that that is over," he said in his strange, fine voice, "we may sit +down and be friends. May we not?" + +"I will make fresh tea for you--please let me!" for Boswell was waving +aside the suggestion. + +"Very well! Weak--just flavoured water. Now, then!" + +The sidling form edged to the deep chair beside the hearth and scrambled +up, using both hands as a child does. Priscilla kept her eyes upon her +task and struggled for composure. + +"I--I suppose Max--I mean Farwell--did not describe me?" + +"No, sir." + +"It was mistaken kindness. My friends have a habit of doing that. They +think to spare me; it only makes it harder. Try to forget, as soon as +you can, my ugly shell; I am commonplace beneath." + +The pathos of this almost brought tears to Priscilla Glenn's eyes. Her +warm, sympathetic nature responded generously. + +"I--I am very sorry I gave you pain, sir. Forgive me!" + +"We will not mention it again. If you can think of me as--a man, a friend +who wishes to help you for another friend's sake, you will honour me and +make easier your own position. You see, you are no stranger to me; I have +the advantage of you. Farwell has kept me in touch with you from your +childhood up. You have amused him, helped him to bear many things that +would have been harder for him without you. I thank you for this. I +am Farwell's friend. Why, do you know"--and now the deep eyes glowed +kindly--"he has even told me of that original religion you evolved from +your needs; he pictured the strange god you worshipped. I've laughed over +that many times." + +"Your tea is getting cold, sir." + +Priscilla was gaining control of her emotions, and John Boswell's evident +determination to place her in a comfortable position won her gratitude +and admiration. + +"I like cold tea; the colder and weaker the better. Thank you. Let the +cup stand on the table; I will help myself presently. I sincerely hope +we, you and I, are going to be friends. It would hurt Farwell so if we +were not." + +"How good you are!" + +"Yes. Goodness is--my profession." The drollery in the voice was more +touching than amusing. "I call myself the Property Man. I help people +artistically, when I can. It is my one pleasure, and I find it most +exciting. You will learn, now that you have taken your place on the stage +of life, that the Property Man is very important." + +In this light talk, half serious, half playful, he reassured Priscilla +and claimed for himself what his deformity often retarded. + +"Already you seem my friend. Mr. Farwell said you would be." + +Priscilla's eyes did not shrink now. The soul of the man had, in some +subtle fashion, transformed him. She began to succumb to that power of +Boswell's that had held many men and women even against their wills. + +"Farwell was always a dramatic fellow," the weak voice continued. "When +he sent me word, I wanted to go direct to Kenmore; I wanted to see him +after all these years. But he had made his own plans in his own way. +There were--reasons." + +Priscilla looked bravely in the thin, kindly face. She remembered that +Farwell had said that she need tell nothing more than she cared to, but +an overpowering desire was growing upon her to confide everything to this +friend of an hour. His deep, true eyes, fixed upon her, were challenging +every doubt, every reserve. + +"Farwell says you dance like a sprite." + +At this Priscilla started as if from sleep. + +"Ah! a childish bit of play," she said. "I--I have almost forgotten how +to dance." + +"I hope you will never forget. To dance and sing and laugh should be the +heritage of all young things. You must forget to be serious, past the +safety point! That's where danger lies. It does not pay to take our parts +ponderously. I learned that long ago." + +"I shall be--happy after a while." And now, quite simply and frankly, +Priscilla cast away her anchors of caution and timidity and spoke openly: + +"I--I have been so troubled. Things have happened to me that should not +have happened if--if my mother and father could have trusted in me. They +believed--wrong of me when really they should have pitied me. You trust +me?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Master Farwell trusted me. As things were, the only comfort I could give +my poor parents was to let them think I left Kenmore with--with a young +man. Something had occurred that--looked wrong. It was only a terrible +experience. No one helped me but Master Farwell. My--my people turned +from me." + +"It was Farwell's way: to help where he had faith," murmured Boswell. + +The deep eyes were so perilously kind that Priscilla had to struggle to +keep back her tears. A sense of security and peace flooded her heart, but +the past strain had left its mark. + +"My father would have been glad to have me marry the--the man. I would +rather have died after what happened! They--my father and mother--must +believe I have gone with him. It will at least make them feel I have not +disgraced them. Now--you can understand!" + +"Perfectly." + +"I want to go into training. I want to be a nurse. I am sure I can +succeed." + +So very humble and modest was the ambition that it quite took Boswell by +surprise. Priscilla did not notice the uplifting of the shaggy brows. She +went on eagerly, thoughtfully: + +"You see, I have only such education as Master Farwell has given me, but +I have a ready mind, he says. I am sure I could watch and tend the sick. +A lady staying in Kenmore at one time told me I had the--the touch of a +skilled hand. I want--to help the world, somehow, and this seems the only +way open to a girl like me. I am strong; I never tire. Yes; I want to be +a nurse, the best one I can be." + +Boswell understood the deeper truth. This girl, original, artistic, was +foregoing much in accepting this safe, humble course. She expected no +charity, nothing but a helpful interest. It was unusual and delightful. + +"I have a hundred dollars that Master Farwell gave me. It will help, and +I can repay it by and by. I know it will be years before I can do so, but +he understands. While I am studying there will be little expense, the +lady told me. And oh!"--here Priscilla interrupted herself suddenly--"I +have an errand to do for Master Farwell as soon as I get to New York. He +told me you--would help me." + +"An errand?" + +"Yes. There is a--woman he once--loved; loves still. She thinks he--is +dead. It was best so in the past. There was a reason for letting her +believe so; but now he wants her--to know!" + +Boswell sprang up in his chair as if he were on a strong spring. + +"Wants you to go and tell her--that he still lives?" + +"Yes. It will be hard, but I will do it for him." + +Boswell settled back in his seat. + +"I thought he only meant her to know--when he could go himself," he said +quietly. + +"He made me promise." + +Boswell leaned forward and drew the cup from the table, and in one long +draught drank the cold, weak tea. When he spoke again the conversation +was set in a different channel. + +"I hardly know what I expected to find you, Miss Glenn," he said with his +rare, sweet smile. "You evidently seemed more a child to Farwell than you +do to me. That was natural. Now that we have become acquainted I hope you +will accept my help and hospitality until your own plans are formed. I +can make you very comfortable in my town home. I am sure I can place you +in the best training school in the city; I have some influence there. But +before you settle to your hard work you will let me play host, as Farwell +would in my place? This would be a great pleasure to me." + +What there was in the words and tone Priscilla could never tell, but +at once the future seemed secure, and the present placed on a sound +foundation. Every disturbing element was eliminated and the whole +situation put upon a perfectly commonplace basis. By a quick transition +the unreality was swept aside. + +"Indeed, I will be glad to accept." + +They smiled quite frankly and happily at each other. + +"An odd story occurs to me." Boswell pressed back in his chair and his +face was in shadow. "You must get used to my stories and plays. The +Property Man must have his sport. There was once a garden, very +beautiful, very desirable, but full of traps to the unwary. Quite +unexpectedly, one day, a particularly fine butterfly found herself poised +on the branch of a tree with a soaring ambition in her heart, but a blind +sense of danger, also. It was a wise butterfly, by way of change. While +it hesitated, a beetle crawled along and offered its services as guide. +The pretty, bright thing was sane enough to accept. Do you follow?" + +Priscilla started. She had been caught in the mesh of the story, and now +with a sudden realization of its underlying thought she flushed and +laughed. + +"I still have my childish delight in stories, you see," she said. Then, +"I--I do see what you mean. Again I repeat, I am so glad to accept +your--your kindness." + +"Middle life has its disadvantages." The voice from out the shadows +sounded weary. "It has none of the blindness of youth and none of the +assurance of old age. If I were twenty, you and I could play together in +the Garden; if I were ninety I could tuck you safely away in my nest and +feed you on dainties, and no one could say a word. As it is--well, we'll +do the best we can, and, after you are in your training, you'll be glad +enough to have my nest to fly to for a change of air and an opportunity +to chat with me. The Property Man will come in handy. Hark! the wind is +rising. How it blows!" + +The ashes were flying about on the hearth and the trees outside beat +their branches against the windows. + +"It never roars like that in the In-Place," whispered Priscilla, awed by +the sound and fury that were rapidly gaining power. + +"The In-Place?" Boswell sighed. "What a blessed name! To think of any one +fluttering about in the dangerous Garden when he or she might remain in +the In-Place!" + +There was a tap on the door, and in reply to Boswell's "Come!" Goodale +entered. + +"Shall I serve supper now, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"In here?" + +"No; in the dining-room." Then, "How far is it to the railway station?" + +"Twenty-six miles, sir." + +"It seemed like a hundred. Can the team make it to-morrow if the storm +ceases?" + +"They look capable, sir." + +"Then we will start to-morrow for the States." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Priscilla Glenn always looked back on the next four weeks of her life as +a transition stage between one incarnation and another. Kenmore, and that +which had gone to the making of her life previous to her meeting with +John Boswell, seemed to have accomplished their purpose and left her +detached and finished, up to a certain point, for the next period of her +existence. In the severing of all the ties of the past, even affection, +gratitude, and memory, for the time being, were held in abeyance. This +was a merciful state, for, had ordinary emotions and sentiments held her, +she would have been unfitted for the difficult task of readjustment which +she gradually achieved, simply because of her dulled mental and spiritual +sensations. + +The noise and flash of the big city bewildered and dazzled the girl from +the In-Place and encrusted her with an unreality that spared her many a +pang of loss, and also fear for the future. Boswell's apartment, high +above the street and overlooking the Hudson River and Palisades, became a +veritable sanctuary from which she dreaded to emerge and to which she +clung in a passion of self-preservation. The gray wall of stone across +the sparkling stream grew to be, in her vivid fancy, the barrier between +the past and future. Against it, unseen, faint, but persistent, beat what +once had been--her grim father, her weak, tearful mother, lonely, kindly +Master Farwell, and all the lesser folk of Kenmore. Pressing close and +straining to hold her, these dim, shadowy memories clustered, but she no +longer appeared a part of them, like them, or in any way connected with +them. On the other hand, below the eyrie dwelling in which she was +temporarily sheltered, lay the whirlpool of sound and motion into which, +sooner or later, she must plunge. + +With keen appreciation and understanding of this phase of her +development, John Boswell kept conversation and life upon the surface, +and rarely permitted a letting-down of thought. Cautiously, and not too +often, he took his guest on tours of inspection and watched her while she +underwent new ordeals or experienced pain from unknown thrills. He had +never been more interested or amused in his life, and, in his enthusiasm, +exaggerated Priscilla's capabilities. He revelled in her frankness and +her confidence; he learned from her more of Farwell than he could have +learned in any other way, and his faithful heart throbbed in pity, pride, +and affection for the lonely master of the In-Place, who, little heeding +his own progress, had triumphed over his old and lesser self at last. + +The home of Boswell was a large and sunny apartment high up in the huge +building. Only one servant, a marvellously silent and efficient Japanese, +ran the economic machinery, awesomely defended Boswell's library when the +master retired to perform his mystic rites, and in all relations was +exemplary. Poor Boswell's rites comprised a devouring appetite for +reading and a rather happy talent for turning off a short story as unique +and human as he was himself. + +After Priscilla Glenn arrived, Toky, as the servant was called, was +tested to the uttermost. Never before had Boswell introduced a woman into +the sphere sacred to Man. Toky disapproved, was utterly disgusted; he +lost his implicit faith in his master's wisdom, but he adopted a manner +at once so magnanimous and charming that Boswell set to work and planned +future gifts of appreciation for his servant. + +No other woman came to the apartment; Boswell shrank from them, not +bitterly or resentfully, but sensitively. Men took him more or less for +granted when he touched their lives; women overdid the determination, on +their parts, to set him at ease. Long since he had turned his poor, +misshapen back upon the very natural and legitimate desire for the happy +mingling of both sexes, but after Priscilla Glenn became his guest he +recognized the need of women friends in a sharp and painful manner. They +could have helped him so much; could have solved so many problems for him +and the girl; but as it was he had to do the best he could alone. + +The hundred dollars, still to be repaid to Farwell, worked wonders in the +week following the arrival of the Beetle and the Butterfly, as Boswell +insisted upon calling himself and Priscilla. Having no power at court, +Boswell cast himself on the mercy of lesser folks and managed, by way of +secret nods and whispers, to gain the cooeperation of sympathetic-looking +shop girls in order to array Priscilla in garments that would secure her +and him from impudent stares and offensive leers. The evenings following +these shopping expeditions were devoted to "casting up accounts." +Priscilla was absolutely lacking in worldly wisdom, but she had a sense +of accuracy that drove Boswell to the outer edge of veracity. Never +having bought an article of clothing for herself, Priscilla attacked this +new problem with perfectly blank faith. Prices often surprised and +startled her by their smallness, but the results obtained were gloriously +gratifying. + +"I can better understand the lure of the States now, Mr. Boswell," she +said one evening as the two sat in the library with the wind howling +down Boswell's exaggerations and the fire illuminating the girl's +face. "Kenmore prices were impossible, but one can go wild here for so +little. Just fancy! That whole beautiful suit for two dollars and +eighty-seven----" + +"Eighty-nine!" Boswell severely broke in, shaking his pencil at her as he +sat perched, like a benign gargoyle, by his study table. "I'll not have +Farwell defrauded while he cannot protect his own interests." + +"Two eighty-nine," Priscilla agreed, with a laugh so merry and carefree +that the listener dropped his tired eyes. "And how much does that leave +of the hundred, Mr. Boswell? I tremble when I think of the silk gown so +soft and pretty, the slippers and stockings to match, and the storm coat, +umbrella, heavy shoes, and--and--other things." + +Boswell referred to his notes and long lines of figures. + +"All told, and in round numbers, there are forty-seven dollars and three +cents left." + +"It's marvellous! wonderful!" Priscilla exclaimed. "You are sure, Mr. +Boswell?" + +"Do you doubt me?" + +"Sometimes I do, you are so kind, so generous, and under ordinary +circumstances it would seem impossible to buy things so cheap. You must +select your shops carefully." + +"One has to on a moderate allowance." + +Then quite suddenly Priscilla Glenn spoke quickly and breathlessly: + +"Mr. Boswell, I--I must begin my training. Have you made any +arrangements? And, when I go, will they pay me from the start?" + +Boswell grew grave as he thought of the knowledge that would come +concerning dollars and cents later on. + +"I have started operations," he replied; "in a short time you will be +able to begin your studies, and I hear they will pay you the princely sum +of ten dollars a month from the day you are accepted. Canadians are +greatly in demand." + +"Ten dollars!" gasped Priscilla, "Ten dollars a month! when I think what +this hundred has done, and the twelve months in each year, it--it dazzles +me!" + +Boswell gave an uncomfortable laugh. In the light of nearby +disillusionment his practical joke looked mean and ghastly. + +Then, with another abrupt change of thought, Priscilla brought Boswell +again at bay. + +"Before I go into training," she said, "I must go and see Master +Farwell's friend--his old friend, you know. I feel very guilty and +ungrateful, but it has all been so strange and bewildering, I have seemed +dead and done for and then born again, I could not help myself; but I can +now. Please tell me all about her, Mr. Boswell, and how I can find her." + +Boswell dropped the pencil upon the mahogany desk and looked blankly at +Priscilla. + +"Let us sit by the fire," he said presently, "I am cold and--tired. Turn +down the lights." + +They took their positions near the hearth: the dwarf in his low, deep +leather chair with its wide "wings" that hid him so mercifully; Priscilla +in the small rocker that from the first had seemed to meet every curve +and line of her long, young body with restful welcome. + +"And now," Priscilla urged, "please tell me. I feel, to-night, like +myself once more. I am adjusted to the new life, I hope, ready to do my +part." + +When John Boswell cast aside his whimsical phase he was a very simple and +direct man. He, too, was becoming adjusted to Priscilla's presence in his +home and her rightful demands upon him. + +"Yes, I will tell you," he said slowly, wearily. + +"Perhaps you are too tired to-night, Mr. Boswell? To-morrow will do." + +"No. I never sleep when the wind howls; it gets into my imagination. I'd +rather talk. The thing I have to tell you--is what I shall tell Farwell +if I ever see him again. It's rather a bungling thing I've done. I'll +receive my reward, doubtlessly, but I would do the same, were I placed in +the same position, over and over again. + +"Farwell Maxwell, known to you as Anton Farwell, has been part, the +biggest part, of my life since we were young boys. We were about as +pitiful a contrast as can be imagined, and for that reason met each +other's needs more completely. We had only one thing in common--money. He +was a straight, handsome fellow, while I was--what you see before you--a +crooked, distorted creature, but one in whose heart and soul dwelt all +the cravings and aspirations of youth and intelligence. I was alone in +the world. My father died before my birth, and I cost my mother--her +life. Farwell had, until he was twenty, an adoring though foolish mother, +who laid undue emphasis upon his rights and privileges. She, and an older +brother, died when he was twenty-one--died before the trouble came, but +not before they had done all they could to train him for it. At +twenty-one he was a selfish, hot-headed fellow with a fortune at his +command, a confused sense of right and wrong, an ungoverned, artistic +nature swayed by impulse, and, yes, honest affection and generous +flashes. And I? Well, I found I could buy with my money what otherwise I +must have gone without, but the shadow never counted for the substance +with me. The fawning favour, which held its sneer in check, filled me +with disgust, and I would have been a bitter, lonely fellow but--for +Farwell. + +"I never could quite understand him; I do not to-day, but he, from the +beginning, did not seem to recognize or admit my limitations. Through +preparatory school and college we went side by side. He called me by the +frank and brutal names that boys and men only use to equals. I wonder if +you can understand when I say that to hear him address me as an infernal +coward, when I shrank from certain things, was about the highest +compliment I knew?" + +"Yes," murmured Priscilla, "I can understand that." She could not see +Boswell; the low, impassioned words came from out the shadows like +thoughts. "Yes, I can quite understand how you felt." + +"I am glad that you can, for then you will see--why I have done--what I +could for Farwell--when he needed me. Back in those old days he was not +content to shame me into playing my part; by that power of his, that +worked both good and evil, he compelled others, in accepting him, to +accept me on equal terms. There was a seat for me at the tables to which +he was invited; he discovered my poor talent for telling a story, and +somehow hypnotized others into considering me a wit! A wit!" + +A silence fell between the two by the fire. Priscilla's throat was hard +and dry, her heart aching with pity. + +"And then," Boswell continued drearily, "the crash came when he was only +twenty-five! I suppose he was savagely primitive. That was why externals +did not count so much with him. He could not brook opposition, especially +if injustice marked it; he was never able to estimate or eliminate. He +was like a child when an obstacle presented itself. If he could not get +around it, he attacked it with blind passion. + +"It was part of his nature to espouse the cause of the weak and needy; +that was what held him, unconsciously, to me; it was what attracted him +to Joan Moss." + +The name fell upon Priscilla's mind like a shock. The story was nearing +the crisis. + +"She was outwardly beautiful; inwardly she was as deformed--as I! But in +neither case was he ever able to get the right slant. He loved us both in +his splendid, uncritical way. His love brought me to his feet in abject +devotion: it lured the woman to accomplish his destruction. Something, +some one, menaced her! He tried to sweep the evil aside, but----" + +"Yes, yes, please go on!" Priscilla was breathless. + +"Well, he couldn't sweep it aside; so he committed--murder." + +"Oh! Mr. Boswell!" + +The shuddering cry drew Boswell to the present. He remembered that his +listener knew Farwell only as a friend and gentle comrade. Her shock was +natural. + +"You--you never guessed? Why do you think he, that brilliant fellow, +stayed hidden like a dead thing all these years?"--there was a quiver in +Boswell's voice--"hidden so deep that--not even I dared to go to him for +fear I would be followed and he again trapped! Oh! 'twas an ugly thing he +did; but he was driven to insanity--even his judges believed that--at the +last; but his victim was too big a man to go unavenged, so they hunted +Farwell down, caught him in a trap, and tried to finish him, but he got +away and they thought him--dead." + +"Yes, yes," moaned Priscilla, "yes, I know. And the woman--did her heart +break?" + +At this Boswell leaned forward, and, in the fire's glow, Priscilla saw +his face grow cruel and hard. + +"Her heart break? No, she went promptly to the devil, once she was sure +she had lost Farwell and his money. Down to the last hope she made him +believe in her. How she acted! But when he was reported dead, well!"--and +Boswell gave a harsh laugh--"her heart did not break!" + +A sound brought Boswell back to the dim room. + +"You are--crying?" he said slowly; "crying for him?" + +"For him, yes, and for you!" + +"For me?"--a wonderful tenderness stole into the man's voice--"for me? I +do not think any one before--ever cried for me. Thank you. You understand +what all this meant to me? What a--woman you will be--if----" + +Priscilla raised her tear-stained face and her lips quivered as she +recalled that Farwell had said almost exactly the same words to her back +there in the In-Place. She understood because she had been lonely and +known the suffering of the lonely. She must never forget, never fail +those who needed her! But Boswell was talking on again with a new note of +feeling in his voice. + +"While I thought him dead I sank back into my shell, sank lower than I +had ever been before. I wanted to die; wanted it so truly that I planned +it; grew interested in arranging my affairs. Preparing to die became my +excitement, and when everything was ready, Farwell spoke to me--from his +grave! That letter from your In-Place worked a miracle upon me. While he +lived there would always be something for me to do. He had made a place +in the world for me; I could keep his place ready for him. It was a small +return, but it meant life--for me. + +"There were years when Farwell felt he was coming back. I heard from him +spring and autumn, and there were hope and promise each time. When people +forgot, he would return, and he wanted to go to--to Joan Moss himself +with his story. So long as he knew that she was alive and faithful it was +enough, and, besides, he realized that had she or I gone to him just then +it might have been fatal. He believed that if she knew where he was she +would hasten to him! + +"Well, just at first I thought that he might come at any time and might +rescue--Joan Moss. I was even willing for him to have her if it could add +any happiness to him. Then there was the money--his money. I kept his +belief in that, too. Everything of his went at the time of the trial, but +mine was his, so that was a small matter. I suppose all the sentiment and +passion that most men spread over their entire lives were, in me, +concentrated on Farwell. When I thought of him caged and alone, in the +wilds, I found lying to him about the only thing I could do. So I kept +his belief in Joan Moss and his fortune. Then something happened to him. +I never knew what it was, but it seemed to take all the hope and courage +from him. He wanted me to see that Joan Moss was well taken care of, and +in case of his death she must have all that he died possessed of. Just at +that time Joan Moss came to me, a wreck! She lived only six months, but +for his sake I saw that she had all that he would have had for her. She +thought that he gave it to her, too, or at least she thought his money +gave it, since it was in his will that she should have it. His name was +on her lips when the end came. I will tell him that some day. It will +help him to forgive me. After that I wrote and wrote to him, making +frantic efforts to secure to him, until he were free, what existed no +longer on earth! That is all." + +The fire had died down and become ashy; the wind no longer howled; the +night had fallen into peace at last. + +Priscilla got up stiffly, for she was cold and nerve-worn. She walked +unsteadily to Boswell, her tear-stained face twitching with emotion, her +hands outstretched. In her eyes was the look that only once or twice +in his life had Boswell ever seen directed toward him by any human +being--the look that claimed the hidden and best in him, forgetting the +deformities that limited him. + +"I think you are the best man on earth, the noblest friend. Oh! what can +we do for Master Farwell?" + +Quite simply Boswell took the hands in his. Her eyes made him brave and +strong, and her "we" throbbed in his thoughts like a warm and tender +caress. + +"You must leave that to me," he said gently, giving his kindly smile. "I +cannot share this burden with you. So long have I borne it that it has +become sacred to me. It means only making the story a little longer, a +little stronger. Some day he will have to know--some day; but not now! +not now!" + +Just then a distant church bell struck the midnight hour. Solemnly, +insistently, the twelve strokes rose and fell. + +"The wind has passed," whispered Boswell. + +"Yes, and the fire is dead. You are very, very tired, I am sure," +Priscilla murmured. + +Something new and maternal had entered into her thought and voice. While +life lasted she was always to see in the crippled man a brave and patient +soul who played with sternest problems because he had no other toys with +which to while away his dreary years; no other offerings for them he +loved. + +"Yes. The play is over for--to-night. The Property Man can take his rest +until--to-morrow. Turn on the lights, Priscilla Glenn. You and I must +find our way out of the darkness." + +"Let me help you, Mr. Boswell." + +"Help me? That sounds very kind. I will make believe that I am ninety! +Yes, you may help me. Thank you! And now good night. You need not write +of--Joan Moss to Farwell. I am grateful because you understand and +appreciate my--my attempt. I can bring the tale to a close in great +style. I was a bit discouraged, but it seems clear and convincing now. +That is often the way in my trade of story-maker. We come against a blank +wall, only to find there a gateway that opens to our touch." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +After Boswell's confidence concerning Anton Farwell, Priscilla's relation +to the man who had befriended her, to life itself, became more vital and +normal. The superficial conditions were dissipated by the knowledge that +Boswell, in speaking so frankly to her, considered her a woman, not a +child, and expected a woman's acceptance of duties and responsibilities. +Besides this, Boswell himself took on new proportions. His whimsical +oddities had been, for an hour, set aside. For a time he had permitted +her to see and know him--the simple, good man he really was. In short, +Priscilla could no longer play, could no longer make a defence of her +shyness and ignorance; she realized that she must plunge into the +whirlpool for which she had left the In-Place and she must do so at once. + +Boswell might fantastically play at being ninety and permit her to lend +her strength and youth to his use, but she never again could be deceived. +He was assisting her for Farwell's sake. He liked her, found her +entertaining, but intuitively she knew that in order to retain his +respect and confidence she must fulfil her part. + +For a week or so longer he and she went to operas and theatres together +while final arrangements were being completed for her immediate +admittance, on trial, to the finest private hospital in the city, to +which was attached a training school of high repute. + +Priscilla was both right and wrong about Boswell. He did appreciate and +admire her insistence to begin her career. It was the only course for her +to take; but he looked forward to the lonely, empty days without her with +real concern. + +He had, to a certain extent, grown used to the detachment and +colourlessness of his life since Farwell had left it; but here, quite +unexpectedly, a young and vital personality had entered in and had given +him, in a crude, friendly way, to be sure, what his absent friend had +given--the assurance that his deformity could not exclude him from the +sweet humanity that was keen enough to recognize the soul of him. +Sensitive, shrinking from suffering and publicity, the man found in +Priscilla's companionship and confiding friendliness the deepest joy he +had known since his great loss. He wished that he was ninety, indeed, and +that his infirmity and wealth might secure for him this new interest that +had taken him out of himself and caused his sluggish senses to revive. +But he was not yet fifty. For all his handicaps he was still in fair +health, and the best that he could hope for was that Priscilla, among +her new duties, would remember him, come back to him, make his lonely +home a retreat and comfort when her arduous duties permitted. + +Those last few days of freedom and companionship were beautiful to them +both. With pride and a certain complacency, Boswell saw that he had +somewhat formed and developed Priscilla's tastes and judgment. She was no +longer the ignorant girl she once had been. Music did not now move her to +tears and a kind of dumb suffering. She began to understand, to control +her emotions, and gain, through them, pleasure without pain. + +"She laughs," Boswell thought, "more intelligently and discriminately +when she sees a good farce." + +All this was satisfying to them, but on a certain late-winter day it came +to an end, and Priscilla, thrilling with a sense of achievement, entered +St. Albans on probation. + +What the weeks of doubt and preparation meant, no one, not even Boswell, +ever knew. The old childish determination to suffer, in order to know, +held true and unfaltering. The tortured nerves, after the first shocks, +regained their poise and strength; the heavy work and strict discipline +left the sturdy body like fine steel, although weariness often tested it +sorely. + +"'Tis not to dance, Priscilla Glenn," she often warned herself; "it is to +suffer and know!" + +Then she grimly set her strong, white teeth. With all the getting and +relinquishing, however, she never forgot to laugh, and her courageous +cheerfulness won for her more than she realized while she was learning +the curves of her Road. + +And then she was accepted. No one but herself had ever doubted her +triumph, but when she first learned the verdict she was wild with delight +and could hardly wait for her "hours off" to tell Boswell all about it. + +She was "capped" at last. No hard-won crown was ever appreciated more +than that white trifle which rested like a bit of snow upon the "rusty +hair" of Priscilla Glenn. + +Before the little mirror in her own bedchamber, on that first victorious +day, she posed and confided to her appreciative reflection. + +"So this is Priscilla Glenn of the In-Place?" she whispered. "I simply +can't believe it! No one else would believe it either; and you are not +the same. You never will be again what you once were." + +The flush of excitement showed plainer now than of yore, for the clear, +dark skin had taken on the delicacy of the city's tint. The eyes were +deep and grave, for already they had witnessed the mystery of life and +death. They had smiled down at pain-racked motherhood; had held, in calm +courage, many an outgoing soul. Priscilla had a closer vision than she +once had had when she dreamed her dreams of what lay beyond the Secret +Portage and the Big Bay. + +The reflection nodded acknowledgment to all that the excited brain +affirmed. Then suddenly: + +"Why, Priscilla Glenn, you are crying! And for--which?" + +The quaint expression brought a smile. + +"You are homesick, Priscilla Glenn, homesick for what you have never had! +That's the matter with you. You want some one to go to and tell about +this, but in all the world there isn't any one who could understand. You +poor, poor dear! What would your father and mother think of you? There, +now, never mind. You are only a--blue and white nurse. Even Master +Farwell and Mr. Boswell could not understand; but a woman could. Some +woman! She would know what it means to be free at last and have +something, quite your own, with which to hew and cut your own road; yes, +your own road, right along to--to the end, just as old Pine used to cut +the new trails. It's the standing up straight at last on your own roots +like the dear little white birch in the Place Beyond the Winds. A woman +could understand, but no one else." + +By some subtle power Priscilla had thought and talked her fancy far and +away from the plain room of St. Albans. Her longing, her quaint "for +which?" the memory of the Indian guide and the little white birch had +performed a miracle. Through the excitement and elation stole the +fantastic power of childhood. She was on her Road, bound for her Heart's +Desire! No doubt, no misgiving, assailed the moment of joy. Forward, just +a little beyond, success awaited her. The possibility of defeat was over +forever. From now on, through weariness, toil, and perhaps suffering, she +was going to her own. She had never realized the tense mental and +physical strain through which she had passed; she did not realize it now, +but with the relaxation came an almost dangerous exhilaration. The +present, only so far as it verified the past, had no hold upon her; +she let herself go. + +Back again was she in Kenmore. It was springtime, and the red rocks and +hemlocks shone and the water sparkled; she heard it lapping against the +tiny islands, so glad was it to be free of the winter's grasp. Some one +was dancing to the Spring's Call--a small, graceful thing with a bright +red cape flying on the wind, the soft wind of the In-Place. There was +music, too! Oh! how clearly it came rising and falling; and then, in the +bare hospital room, the blue-clad nurse tripped this way and that, while +memory held true to note and step! + +Oh! It was on again, on again, that dear old dance. It dried the tears in +the tender eyes and held the smile on the joyous lips. Then, as suddenly +as it had begun, the dance ceased, a flushed face confronted the +reflection in the glass, and a low curtsey followed, while a reverent +voice repeated as if in prayer: + +"Skib, skib, skibble--de--de--dosh!" + +The words came of their own volition; they were part and kin to the mood +that held and swayed her. They were a pagan plea for guidance and +protection in the opening life where wind and fury would beset her. + +Suddenly words of everyday life found their way to her detached +consciousness and recalled her to the present with almost cruel force. + +"It's the little Canuck he wants! Just fancy! I heard him say so to--to +Mrs. Thomas. Such injustice! But there the old Grenadier comes now. +Hustle!" + +Priscilla heard the scampering feet, then, after a moment's pause, the +dignified advance of the superintendent. There was a tap on the door. The +doors of some rooms, owing to discipline, were never tapped by Mrs. +Thomas, but the reason that compelled her to show this courtesy to +Priscilla also caused her to wish this young Canadian was a less serious +person; one more prone to frivol in her "hours off," and not have, for +her most intimate companion, the strange dwarf. She could have forgiven +Priscilla Glenn if, having overdone her "late leave," she had crawled +into a back window to escape punishment. It would have made her more +understandable. As it was, Mrs. Thomas tapped! + +"Come in, please," said Priscilla, and the large, handsome superintendent +entered and sat down. + +"I thought I would come and tell you," she said, trying to keep her +professional expression while her maternal heart warmed to the girl, +"that you have been highly honoured. There is to be a very important +operation to-morrow at three o'clock. Doctor Ledyard is to perform it, +assisted by his young partner. He has asked for several nurses, and he +named _you_--singled you out. He has observed you; wishes to--use you. +It's a great compliment, Miss Glynn." So often had Priscilla corrected, +to no avail, the wrong pronouncing of her name, that she now accepted it +without further demur. Flushing and trembling, she went close to Mrs. +Thomas and held her hands out impulsively. + +"All my glory is coming at once!" she faltered. + +"Glory? Well, you are a queer girl. To stand for hours under that man's +eye! You call it glory? Why, it is an honour because it is _that man, +that eye_; but as to glory! My dear Miss Glynn, I must insist that you go +off this afternoon and play--somewhere. Then come back and get a good +night's rest. The life of the richest man in New York will hang in the +balance to-morrow, and not even the glorified nurse can afford to have a +trembling hand when she passes up an instrument or wipes the perspiration +from the surgeon's brow." + +"Thank you, oh! thank you, Mrs. Thomas! Of course, if I were not so +stupid I could make you understand how I feel. I seem to have found the +right way, and everything is conspiring to tell me so. You see, I might +not have qualified; some girls do not. No one might have noticed me; you +might not have been so kind. Often I am rather lonely and ungrateful; +but you must try to believe that I am--very happy now." + +"I suppose"--Mrs. Thomas was holding the radiant young face with her +clear, calm eyes--"I suppose you are one of those natures that craves +success; cannot brook defeat. Life will deal harshly with you." + +"I am willing to suffer. It is the learning I must have. It is the chance +to learn that makes me so glad," Priscilla burst in, "and it's this sure +feeling that I am on the right trail." + +"There is a difference. But somehow the career of a nurse is +so--well--difficult, and--hard," Mrs. Thomas went on. "I wonder how you +can approach it with your enthusiasm undaunted after months of service." + +"I do not know, but it seems my road to what is mine. It gets me so near +people--when they most need me--are so glad to have me! There seems to +be nothing between me--and them. I love it, oh! I love it, Mrs. Thomas!" + +"See here, Miss Glynn, where are you going this afternoon?" + +"I do not know; just--going." + +"I wish--dear me! I do wish you could go somewhere; do something +shockingly frivolous." + +"No, I couldn't to-day. I feel like praying--or dancing. There's the most +wonderful, singing feeling inside of me. That's why I do not need--fun +as much as most of the girls do. You are very kind; I think I will go to +your big, fine park and walk and walk. I'd like to see the sun set and +the stars----" + +"Now, Miss Glynn, unless you promise me to get under shelter before the +stars come out I'll call the police. Some day you will learn that New +York is not your Canadian hamlet." + +Priscilla laughed gayly. + +"Very well. I will take my walk and then go to my dear old friend. He'll +be looking for me from his high window. He always stands there late +afternoons, on the chance of my coming. He says it's a pleasure to feel +you have something that _may_ come, even if you know it isn't coming just +then." + +Priscilla changed her clothing and set forth a half hour later for her +walk and to meet with an adventure that changed the current of her +thought materially. From that afternoon she was pressed and forced up her +Road by a power that had taken her into control with definite purpose. + +She went into the park at the lower entrance and walked rapidly to a high +place that was a favourite with her. So peaceful and detached it was that +she could generally think her thoughts, sing aloud a little song, and +feel safe from intrusion. Being high and open, the sunlight rested longer +there than it did below and misled one as to time. + +There was a glorious sunset that evening, a golden, deep one, against +which the bare trees, towers, and house roofs stood outlined black and +sharp. It was like a burnished shield. It was a still day, with a gentle +crispness in the air that stimulated while it did not chill. + +"Everything is waiting. What for? what for?" Priscilla whispered sociably +to herself. She was young, full of health and success. Of course she was +waiting as the young do. And then something touched her cheek softly, +and, looking down, she saw that her dark suit was covered with feathery +snowflakes. So silently had they escaped a passing cloud that she was +startled. She arose at once and was surprised to find, in the hollow +below, that the paths were crusted and the electric lights gleamed +yellow through a fluttering mist of flying snow. It was very beautiful, +but it warned one to hasten, and besides it had grown quite dark. + +There was a path, Priscilla knew it well, that led straight across the +park to an entrance near Boswell's home, and she took it now at a rapid +pace. + +The beauty of the walk did not escape her, the exhilaration of the air +acted like a cordial upon her, she seemed hardly to touch the ground as +she ran on; and once she paused before setting her foot upon the lovely +whiteness. As she hesitated some one stepped from the shadow of a clump +of bushes and confronted her under the electric light. + +"Can you tell me how to find the nearest way out? I'm lost." + +Priscilla's heart gave one hard throb and stood still, it seemed for an +hour, while an almost forgotten terror seized and held her. She was +looking full upon Jerry-Jo McAlpin! A soiled and haggard shadow he was +of what he once had been, but it was Jerry-Jo and no other. + +"I--I did not mean to frighten you. Forgive me. I ain't going to hurt +you, Miss. I----" + +But Priscilla was gone before the sentence was finished. Gone before she +knew whether the speaker had recognized her or not. Gone before--and then +she stood still. She could not leave him to wander alone at night in that +big, strange place. No matter what happened, she must treat him humanly, +she, who knew the danger. She went back, her blood running like ice +through her body; but Jerry-Jo McAlpin was not there. Priscilla waited, +and once she spoke vague directions to the empty space, but no answering +voice replied. Presently she controlled herself, and took to the path +again, and reached John Boswell's house before he had left his window. + +She did not tell of the encounter; she felt she must wait, but in her +heart she knew that Jerry-Jo McAlpin was as surely on her trail as she +was herself. Such things as that meeting did not happen to them of the +In-Place unless for a purpose. + +She had a wonderful evening with Boswell. They did not go out, and after +dinner he read her some manuscript stories. Boswell had never before so +intimately permitted her to come close to his work. She had seen stories +of his in print, had heard plans for others, but before the fire in his +study that night he read, among other things, "The Butterfly and the +Beetle." So beautifully, so touchingly, had he pictured the little +romance, of which Priscilla herself was part, that the tears fell from +the girl's eyes while her lips were smiling at the tender humour. The +undercurrent of meaning threw new light on the lonely life of the rich, +but wretched man. The joy depicted in simple, friendly intercourse, the +aspiration of the Beetle, the grateful appreciation for the plain, common +happenings that in most lives were taken for granted, but which in his +rose to monumental importance, endeared him to her anew. It brought back +to her what Boswell had told her of his relations with Farwell Maxwell, +her Anton Farwell. She could now, with her broader, more mature reason, +understand the devotion the cripple had given the one man who, in the +empty years, had taken him without reservation, had ignored his +limitations, and had been his friend and comrade. + +Suddenly she asked: + +"Have you heard from--from Master Farwell lately?" The question startled +Boswell. + +"Yes. I had a letter yesterday. He has been ill. That squaw woman, Long +Jean, took care of him. The letter sounded restless. There'll be trouble +with Farwell before we get through. My letters are evidently lacking +power, and your silence baffles him." + +"Poor Master Farwell!" + +"I fancy he thought Joan Moss would go to him. It has been hard work to +build a barrier between him and her that could satisfy, now that he +believes you have told her of his being among the living." + +"What have you said to him all this time?" + +Boswell shifted his position, and Priscilla saw the haggard, careworn +look spread over his face. By sudden insight she realized that he looked +old, pitiful, and far from well, and her heart filled with sympathy. +The half-mystical life was telling upon him, becoming a burden. + +"Oh, at first I said the surprise of knowing he lived had made her, made +Joan Moss, ill. It took nearly six months to cover that, and I did some +good writing during that period. Then I told him there were things to +settle; then, fear for his safety overpowered her: dread of being +tracked. And since then--well, since then there has been silence. Can +you not understand? His pride has asserted itself at last. If she will +not communicate with him herself, he will have none of me; none of you. +Has he ever said a word about her to--you?" + +"Never," Priscilla answered. + +"But," Boswell went on, "I notice a change in him; an almost feverish +impatience. I fear he doubts me--after all these years!" + +"And when he knows?" + +The man by the fire shrank deeper in his chair. + +"When he knows?" he repeated. "Why, then he will have an opportunity to +understand my life-long devotion, my gratitude, my love! That is all." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +"For real emergencies," Doctor Ledyard once remarked to Helen Travers, +"give me the nervous, high-strung women. They come through shock and +danger better, they hold to a climax more steadily. Your phlegmatic woman +goes to pieces because she hasn't imagination and vision enough to carry +her over the present." + +This reasoning caused him to select Priscilla Glenn for one of the most +critical operations he had ever performed. Among the blue and white +nurses of his knowledge this girl with the strange, uplifted expression +of face; this girl who was actually on the lookout for experience and +practice, and who seriously loved her profession, stood in a class by +herself. He had long had his eye upon her, had meant to single her out. +And now the opportunity had come. + +Perhaps the most important man in business circles, certainly one of the +richest men in the city, had come to that period of his life's career +when he must pay toll for the things he had done and left undone in his +past. The broad, common gateway gaped wide for him, and only one chance +presented itself as a possible means of holding him back from the long +journey he so shudderingly contemplated. + +"One chance in ten?" he questioned. + +"One--in----" Ledyard had hesitated. + +"A hundred?" + +"A thousand." + +A breathless pause followed. Then: + +"And if I do not take it, how long?" + +"A week, a month; not longer." + +"I'll take it." + +"I'll have my partner----Would you care for any one else?" Ledyard asked. + +"No. Since it must be, I put myself in your hands. I trust you above any +one I know. Do your best for me, and in case I slip through your fingers +I thank you now, and--good-bye." + +Before any great event, or operation, Ledyard was supersensitive, highly +wrought, and nervous. When he heard the announcement that day of the +operation: "All is ready, sir!" he stepped, gowned and masked, into the +operating-room, and was aware of a senseless inclination to ask some +one--he did not know whom--to make less noise and to lower the shades. +Then his eye fell, not on the dignified and serene head nurse, not on the +other ghostly young forms in their places near the table, not on the +anesthetist, nor young Travers, his partner, but on the nurse who stood +a little apart, the girl he had selected in order to test her on a really +great case. So radiant and inspired was Priscilla Glenn's face that it +fairly shone in that grim place and positively had the effect of bringing +Ledyard to the calmness that characterized his action once the necessity +demanded. + +"How is your patient, Doctor Sloan?" he asked the anesthetist. + +"Fine, Doctor Ledyard. I'm ready when you are." + +Then tense silence followed, broken only by the click of instruments and +the curt, crisp commands. The minutes, weighted with concentration, ran +into the hour. Not a body in that room was aware of fatigue or anxiety. A +life was at stake, and every one knew it. It did not matter that the man +upon the table was important and useful: had he been the meanest of the +mean and in the same critical state, that steady hand, which guided the +knife so scientifically and powerfully, would have worked the same. + +The sun beat down upon the glass roof of that high room; the perspiration +started to Ledyard's forehead and a nurse wiped it away. + +From her place Priscilla Glenn watched breathlessly the scene before her. +It seemed to her that she had never seen an operation before; had never +comprehended what one could be. She realized the odds against which those +two great men were battling, and her gaze rested finally, not on the head +surgeon, but on his partner. Once, as if by some subtle attraction, he +raised his eyes and met hers. Above the mask his glance showed kindly and +encouragingly. He knew that some nurses lost their nerve when a thing +stretched on as this did; he never could quite overlook the fact that +nurses were women, as well, and he hated to see one go under. But this +young nurse was showing no weakness. Travers saw that, after a moment, +and dropped his eyes. But that glance had fixed Priscilla's face in his +memory, and when, after the great man had been carried to his room with +hope following him, when he could be left with safety to his private +nurse, Travers came upon the girl standing by a deep window in the upper +hall. He remembered her at once and stopped to say a pleasant word. + +This was not the strictly proper thing to do, and Travers knew it. +Ledyard was always challenging his undignified tendencies. + +"Unless doctors and nurses can leave their sex outside their profession," +was a pet epigram of Ledyard's, "they had better choose another." + +But Travers had never been able to fulfil his partner's ideal. + +"It was a wonderful operation," he said. "I hope it did not overtire you. +You will get hardened after a while." + +"I am not at all tired. Yes, it was--wonderful! I did not know any +operation could be like that--I mean in the way that it was done. I have +always been afraid of Doctor Ledyard before; all of us are; I shall never +be again." + +"May I ask why?" + +Travers, being young and vital, was forgetting, for the moment, his +professional air to a dangerous extent. He was noticing the strange +coloured hair under the snowy cap, the poise of the head, the deep +violet eyes in the richly tinted face. + +"It was that--well, the look on his face after he had done all that he +could--done it so wonderfully. That look was--a prayer! I shall never +forget." + +Travers gave a light laugh. + +"It would be like Doctor Ledyard," he said with a peculiarly boyish ring +in his voice, "to do his part first and pray afterward." + +"But no one could ever be afraid of him again having once seen that +look!" + +"Miss Glynn," Travers replied; "they could! and yet the _look_ holds the +fear in check." + +Priscilla went early to bed that night. She had planned a visit to +Boswell when her enthusiasm was at its height, but at the day's end she +found herself so exhausted that she sought her room in a state bordering +on collapse. + +Sounds outside caught and held her attention; every sense was quiveringly +alert and receptive; she was at the mercy of her subconscious self. + +"Extry! extry!" bellowed a boy just below her window; "turribul +accident on--de--extry! extry! Latest bulletin--Gordan Moffatt--big +fin--cier--extry! extry!" + +Priscilla sat up in bed and listened. So intimate had the insistent boy +in the street become that she was drawn to him by a common bond of +sympathy. + +Slowly a luxurious sense of weariness overcame her and again she leaned +back on her pillow and sank into a semiconscious sleep. Balanced between +life and the oblivion, into which reason enters blindfolded, she made no +resistance, but was swayed by every passing wave of thought, memory, and +vision. + +The voice outside merged presently into Jerry-Jo McAlpin's. So naturally +did it do so that the girl upon the bed, rigid and pale, accepted the +change with no surprise. + +Jerry-Jo was asking her the way out! He was lost--lost. He wanted to get +out of the darkness and the noise; he wanted to find his way back to the +In-Place. + +Yes, she would show him! There was no fear of him; no repulsion. She was +very safe and strong, and she knew that it was wiser for Jerry-Jo to go +back home. + +Then suddenly she and he were transported from the bewildering city, +talking in its sleep, to the sweet, fresh dimness of the Kenmore Green, +where the steamer had left them. It was early, very early morning, not +more than four o'clock, and the stars were bright and the hemlocks black, +and the red rocks looked soft in the shadows, like pillows. And over the +Green, loping and inquisitive, came Sandy McAdam's dog, Bounder. How +natural and restful the scene was! Then it was Jerry-Jo, not Priscilla, +who was leading. The half-breed with a gesture of friendliness was +beckoning her on toward the mossy wood path leading to Lonely Farm. There +was a definiteness about the slouching figure that forbade any pause at +the White Fish Lodge or the master's dark and silent house. Priscilla +longed to stop, but she hastened on, feeling a need for hurry. + +Presently she saw the little house, her father's house, and there was a +light shining from the kitchen window. Jerry-Jo, still preceding her, +tapped on the outer door, but when the door fell open Jerry-Jo was gone! +Alone, Priscilla confronted her father, and saw with surprise that he +evidently expected her. While the look of hatred and doubt still rested +in his eyes, there was also a look of dumb pity. No word was spoken. +Nathaniel merely stepped aside and closed the door behind her. Then she +began a strange, breathless hunt for something which, at first, she could +not call by name; it evaded and eluded her. Something was missing; +something she wanted desperately; but the rooms were horribly dark and +lonely, and the stillness hurt her more and more. + +At last she came back to her father and the warm, lighted kitchen. + +"I cannot find--my mother," she said, and the reality set her trembling. + +"Your--mother? I--I cannot find her, either. I thought she--followed +you!" + +Cold and shivering, Priscilla sat up in bed. Her teeth chattered and +there were tears on her cheeks. They did not seem like her own tears. It +was as if some one, bending over her, had let them fall from eyes seeking +to find her in the dark. + +"Mother!" moaned Priscilla, and with the word a yearning and craving for +her mother filled every sense. By a magic that the divine only controls, +poor Theodora Glenn in that moment was transformed and radiantly crowned +with the motherhood she had so impotently striven to achieve in her +narrowed, blighted life. The suffering of maternity, its denials and +relinquishings she had experienced, but never its joy of realization, +unless, as her spirit passed from the Place Beyond the Winds to its +Home, it paused beside the little, narrow, white bed upon which Priscilla +lay, and caught that name "Mother!" spoken with a sudden inspiration of +understanding. + +And that night, with only her grim husband and Long Jean beside her, +Theodora escaped the bondage of life. + +After the strange dream, Priscilla, awed and trembling, walked to the +wide open window of her room. For some moments she stood there breathing +fast and hard while the cruel clutch of superstition hurt and held her. + +"Something has happened," she faltered, leaning upon the casement and +looking down into the silent street, for the restless city had at last +fallen to sleep. "Something in Kenmore!" + +A red, pulsing planet, shining high over a nearby church tower, caught +her eye and brought a throb of comfort to her--a tender thought of home. + +"To-morrow, perhaps, a letter will come from Master Farwell; if not, I +will write to him. I must know." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +For two or three days things fell into such commonplace routine that the +excitement of the big operation and the disturbing dream of the night +lost their sharp, clear lines; became blurred and part of the web and +woof of the hospital regime. There was little time for introspection or +romancing and even the chance meeting with Jerry-Jo was relegated to the +non-essentials. Of course he was in the city, but so were the Hornby boys +and others from the In-Place. The whirlpool was a big and rushing thing, +and if they who had once been neighbours caught a glimpse of each other +from dizzy eddies, what did it matter? The possibility of second meetings +was rare. + +John Boswell had been sympathetic, to a certain degree, with Priscilla +concerning the operation and her very evident pride in the part she had +been permitted to take in it. With the instinctive horror that many have +concerning sickness and suffering, he always made an effort to appear +sympathetic when Priscilla grew graphic. Often this caused her to laugh, +but she never doubted Boswell's sincere interest in her, personally. That +she had overcome and achieved was a thing of real gratification to the +lonely man; that she came to him naturally and eagerly, during her hours +of freedom, was the only unalloyed joy of his present existence. Even +Toky hailed her appearances now with frank pleasure, for she, and she +alone, brought the rare, sweet smile to the master's face and gave a +meaning to the artistic meals that were planned. + +"I think, my Butterfly," Boswell often said to her, "that you have soared +to glory through suffering and gore! But it is the soaring and the glory +that matter, after all. Do not lay it up against your poor Beetle if he +makes a wry face now and then. You are desperately dramatic, you know, +but even in my shudders I do not lose sight of the fact that you are a +very triumphant Butterfly." + +Priscilla beamed upon him; the new light of well-poised serenity did not +escape him. + +"If I could only explain!" she once said to him as they sat facing each +other across the table that Toky had laid so artistically. "When I feel +the deepest my words seem shut in a cage; only a few get through the +bars. I really believe people all feel the same about their little +victories. It isn't the kind of victory; it is the sure realization that +you are doing _your_ work--the work you can do best. Why, sometimes I +feel as if I were the big All Mother, and the sad, helpless, suffering +folk were _my_ dear children just looking to me--to me! And then I try +to take the pain and fear from their faces by all the arts my profession +has taught me and all the--the _something_ that is in me, and--I tell +you----" + +Priscilla paused, while the shining light in her big eyes was brightened, +rather than lessened, by the tears that gathered, then retreated. + +"And for all this," Boswell broke in, "you are to get twenty-five per, or +for a particular case, thirty-five per?" + +They smiled broadly at each other, for their one huge, compelling joke +loomed close. + +"Well, sir, when one considers what two intelligent people, like you and +me, did with Master Farwell's one hundred dollars, the future looks +wonderfully rich! I shall soon be able to repay the loan with interest." + +And then they talked a bit of Master Farwell and the In-Place, always +skirting the depths gracefully, for Boswell never permitted certain +subjects to escape his control. It was the half-playful, but wholly +kind dignity that had won for him Priscilla's faith and dependence. + +For a week or two after Gordon Moffatt's operation things went calmly and +prosaically at the hospital. The rich man recovered so rapidly and +satisfactorily that even the outside world took things for granted, and +any items of news concerning him were to be found on the inside pages of +the newspapers. During his convalescence Priscilla met Doctor Ledyard and +Doctor Travers many times. Once, by some mysterious arrangement, she was +assigned charge, in the rich man's room, while his own nurse was absent. +For three days and nights she obeyed his impatient commands and reasoned +with him when he confused his dependent condition with his usual +domineering position. + +"Damn me!" he once complained to Travers when he thought Priscilla was +out of hearing; "that young woman you've given charge over me ought to +have a bigger field for her accomplishments. She's a natural-born tyrant. +I tried to escape her this morning; had got as far as one foot out of bed +when she bore down upon me, calmly, devilishly calmly, pointed to my +offending foot, and said: "Back, sir!" Then we argued a bit--I'm afraid I +was a trifle testy--and finally she laid hands upon my ankle in the most +scientific manner and had me on my back before I could think of the +proper adjectives to apply to her impudence." + +Travers laughed and looked beyond the sick man's bed to the bowed head of +Priscilla as she bent over some preparation she was compounding in an +anteroom. From a high window the sunlight was streaming down on the +wonderful rusty-coloured hair. The girl's attitude of detachment and +concentration held the physician's approving glance, but the wave of +hair under the white cap and against the smooth, clear skin lingered in +the memory of the _man_ long after he forgot Moffatt's amusing anecdote. + +And then, because things were closing in upon Priscilla Glenn's little +stage, something happened so commonplace in its character that its effect +upon the girl was out of all proportion. + +After a rather strenuous day she was sleeping heavily in her little white +room when a sharp knock on her door brought her well-trained senses into +action at once. + +"There's been an accident, Miss Glynn." It was the superintendent who +spoke. "Please report on Ward Five as soon as possible." + +It was an insignificant accident; such a one as occurs shockingly often +in our big cities. A large touring car, with seven passengers, rushing up +a broad avenue with a conscientious man at the wheel, had overhauled a +poor derelict with apparently no fixed purpose in his befuddled brain. In +order to spare the fellow, the chauffeur had wheeled his car madly to one +side, and, by so doing, had hit an electric-light pole, with the result +that every one was more or less injured, the forlorn creature who had +caused the excitement, most of all, for the over-turned machine had +included him in its crushing destruction. + +Four men and three women were carried to St. Albans and now occupied +private rooms, while the torn and broken body of the unknown stranger lay +in Ward Five, quite unconscious. He was breathing faintly, and, since +they had made him clean and decent, he looked very young and wan as he +rested upon the narrow, white bed. + +Priscilla stood at the foot of the cot and read the chart which a former +nurse had hurriedly made out; then she came around to the side and looked +down upon--Jerry-Jo McAlpin! + +She knew him at once. The deathlike repose had wiped away much that +recent years had engraven on his face. He looked as Priscilla remembered +him, standing in his father's boat, proudly playing the man. + +For a moment the quiet girl grew rigid with superstitious fear. That +deathlike creature before her filled her with unreasoning alarm. She +almost expected him to open his black eyes and laughingly announce that +he had found her at last! She longed to flee from the room before he had +a chance to gain control of her. She breathed fast and hard, as she had +that morning when his ringing jeer had stayed her feet as she ran from +the Far Hill Place after the night of terror. Then sanity came to her +relief and she knew, with a pitying certainty born of her training, that +Jerry-Jo McAlpin could never harm her again. That he was a link between +the past and the future she realized with strange sureness. He had always +been that. He had made things happen; been the factor in bringing +experiences to her. She, in self-preservation, would not claim any +knowledge of him now; she would care for him and wait--wait until she +understood just what part he was to play in her present experience. +He might threaten all that she had gained for herself--her peace and +security. Her only safeguard now was to ignore the personality before +her and respond to the appeal of the "case." + +Jerry-Jo was destined to become interesting before he slipped away. Known +only as a number, since he had not been identified or claimed, he rapidly +rose to importance. After three days of unconsciousness he still +persisted, and while his soul wandered on the horizon, his body responded +to the care given it and grew in strength. One doctor after another +watched and commented on his chances, and in due time Doctor Travers, +hearing of the case, stopped to examine it, and, in the interest of +science, suggested an operation that might possibly return the poor +fellow to a world that had evidently no place for him. + +"It's worth trying," Travers said as he and Priscilla stood beside the +bed. "We haven't found out anything concerning him, have we?" + +Priscilla shook her head. + +"Suppose he--well, suppose he had any claim upon you, would you take the +chance of the operation for him?" + +The deep, friendly eyes were fixed upon the girl. She coloured sharply, +then went quite pale. There was a most unaccountable struggle, and +Travers smiled as he thought how conscientious she was to feel any deep +responsibility in a question he had asked, more in idle desire to make +talk than for any other reason. + +"Yes," she replied suddenly, as her head was lifted; "yes, I'd give him +every chance." + +Just then, in one of those marvellous flashes of regained consciousness, +the man upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, first at Travers, then +at Priscilla. Again his gaze shifted, gaining strength and meaning. From +the far place where he had fared for days his mind, lighted by reason, +was abnormally clear and almost painfully reinforced by memory. Then he +laughed--laughed a long, shuddering laugh that drew the thin lips back +from the white, fang-like teeth. Before the sound was finished the light +faded from the black eyes and the grim silence shut in close upon the +last quivering note. + +[Illustration: "In one of those marvellous flashes of regained +consciousness, the man upon the bed opened his eyes and looked, +first at Travers, then at Priscilla"] + +"We'll take the chance," said Travers. And late that very afternoon they +took it. + +A week later Priscilla sat beside the man's bed, her right hand upon his +pulse, her watch in her left. So intent was she upon the weak movement +under her slim fingers that she had forgotten all else until a voice from +a far, far distance seemingly, whispered hoarsely: + +"So--so this is--you? I'm not dreaming? I wasn't dreaming before +when--when he and you came?" + +They had all been expecting this. The operation had been very successful, +though it was not to give the patient back to life. They all knew that, +too. + +"Yes, Jerry-Jo, it's I." + +There was no tremor in the low voice, only a determination to keep the +world from knowing. Jerry-Jo was past hurting any one. + +"The--lure got you, too?" + +"Yes, the lure got me." + +"I knew you that night in the dark--that night in the park--you ran from +me. I was lost and--and starving!" + +"I came back, Jerry-Jo. I did indeed." + +"Have I been here--long?" + +"Not very. Do not talk any more. You must rest. There is to-morrow, you +know." + +The poor fellow was too weak to laugh, but the long teeth showed for a +moment. + +"I must talk. Listen! Do they know here--about me? know my name?" + +"No." + +"Don't tell them. Don't tell any one. I have done something for you! +They think, back there in Kenmore, that you are with me. I've written +that--and schoolmaster hasn't let on. I haven't gone to the Hornbys here, +because I stood by you. No one must know. See?" + +"Yes, Jerry-Jo, I see. Please lie still now. It shall be as you wish. You +have been--very good--for my sake!" + +"I've starved and slept in dark holes--for you, and now you and him--have +got to take care of me--or--I'll tell! I'll tell, as sure as God hears +me!" + +"We will take care of you, Jerry-Jo. There! there! I promise; and you +know we of the In-Place stand by each other." + +He was comforted at last, and fell into the deep sleep of exhaustion. +Occasionally, in the days following, he opened his tired eyes and gave +evidence of consciousness. He was drifting out calmly and painlessly, +and all the coarseness and degeneracy of the half-breed seemed dropping +by the way. Sometimes his glance rested on Doctor Travers's face, for +the young physician was deeply interested in the case and was touched by +the lonely, unclaimed fellow who had served science, but could derive no +benefit in return. Often Jerry-Jo's dark eyes fell upon the pitying face +of Priscilla Glenn with ever-growing understanding and kindliness. +Sometimes in the long nights he clung to her like a child, for she was +very good to him; very, very devoted. + +One night, when all the world seemed sleeping, he whispered to her: + +"You--you don't know, really?" + +Priscilla thought he was wandering, and said gently: + +"No, Jerry-Jo, really I do not know." + +"What will you give me--if I tell you the biggest secret in the world?" + +She had his head in the hollow of her arm; he was resting more calmly so. +He had been feverish all day. + +"What--can I give you, Jerry-Jo?" + +The old, pleading look was in the dark eyes, but low passion had vanished +forever. + +"Could you--would you give me a kiss for the secret?" + +"Yes, Jerry-Jo," and the kiss fell upon the white brow. + +Could John Boswell have been there then he would have understood. + +"You--you are crying! I feel a tear with the kiss!" + +The quivering, broken smile smote Priscilla to the heart. The ward +was deathly quiet; only the deep breathing of men closer to life than +Jerry-Jo McAlpin broke the stillness. + +"Why--do you cry?" + +"You know, it's a bad habit of mine, Jerry-Jo." + +"Yes. You--you cried on his book, you remember?" + +"I remember." + +"Do--you know where he is--now?" + +"No. Do you?" + +The head upon the strong, young arm moved restlessly. + +"Yes--I know--and I'm--going to tell you! It's the biggest joke I ever +knew. Just to think--that you don't know, and he doesn't know, and--and +I do!" + +A rattling, husky laugh shook the thin form dangerously. Every instinct +of the nurse rose in alarm and defence. + +"You must not talk any more, Jerry-Jo. Lie still. Come, let us think of +the In-Place." + +Priscilla slipped her arm from under the dark head, and took the +wandering hands in hers. Her random words had power to hold and chain +the weak mind. + +"I'm going to tell you--where he is--but we'll go back to the In-Place. I +want to tell you there, and--he'll come and find you. I'd like to do you +both a good turn--for what you've done for me." + +Then, after a pause and a gasping breath: + +"It's growing dark, but there's Dreamer's Rock and Bleak Head!" + +"And, Jerry-Jo," whispered Priscilla, "there's Lone Tree Island, +don't you see? Your boat is coming around into the Channel. Please tell +me--where he is, Jerry-Jo----" + +Priscilla realized he was going fast, and the secret suddenly gripped her +with strange power. She must have it; she must know! + +"Please, Jerry-Jo, tell me where he is. I have wanted so to know! Listen! +Can you not hear--the dear old sounds, the pattering of the soft little +waves that the ice has let go free? There's the farm, the woods----" But +Jerry-Jo was struggling to rise; his black eyes wide and straining, his +thin arms outstretched. + +"No!" he moaned hoarsely, and already he seemed far away. "I can't make +the Channel. I'm headed for the Secret Portage and the Big Bay." + +"Jerry-Jo! oh! tell me, where is he? Where is he?" + +But Priscilla knew it was too late. She bent and listened at the still +breast that was holding the secret close from her. Then, with a sense of +having been baffled, defeated, and cruelly cheated, she dropped her wet +face in her hands for a moment before she went to do her last duty for +Jerry-Jo. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +The following June Priscilla Glenn graduated. She and John Boswell grew +quite merry over the event. + +"I really can't let you spend anything on me," she said laughingly; +"nothing more than the cost of a few flowers. I have the awful weight of +debt upon me at the beginning of my career. One hundred dollars to Master +Farwell, and----" + +"The funeral expenses of that poor waif you were so interested in! My +dear child, you are as niggardly with your philanthropies as you are with +your favours. Why not be generous with me? And, by the way, can you tell +me just why that young fellow appealed to you so? I daresay other +'unknowns' drift into St. Albans." + +"He looked--you will think me foolish, Mr. Boswell--but he looked like +some one I once knew in Kenmore." + +The warm June day drifted sunnily into Boswell's study window. There was +a fragrance of flowers and the note of birds. Priscilla, in her plain +white linen dress, was sitting on the broad window seat, and Boswell, +from his winged chair, looked at her with a tightening of the throat. +There were times when she made him feel as he felt when Farwell Maxwell +used to look at him before the shadow fell between them--the shadow that +darkened both their lives. + +"And that was why you had a--a Kenmore name graven on the stone?" + +"Yes, Mr. Boswell, Jerry-Jo McAlpin. Jerry-Jo is dead, too, you know. +They name living people after dead ones. Why not dead people?" + +"Why, indeed? It's quite an idea. Quite an original idea. But as to my +spending money on your graduation, a little more added to what you +already owe me will not count, and, besides, there is that trifle left +from Farwell's loan still to your credit." + +"Now, Mr. Boswell, don't press me too close! I was a sad innocent when +I came from the In-Place, and a joke is a joke, but you mustn't bank on +it." + +The bright head nodded cheerfully at the small, crumpled figure in the +deep chair. + +"After you live in New York three years, Mr. Boswell, you never mistake +a shilling for a dollar, sir. But just because it is such a heavenly +day--and between you and me, how much of that magic fund is left?" + +"I've mislaid my account," Boswell replied, the look that Toky watched +for stealing over his thin face; "but, roughly speaking, I should say +that, with the interest added, about fifty dollars, perhaps a trifle +more." + +Priscilla threw back her head and laughed merrily. + +"I can understand why people say your style is so absorbing," she said +presently; "you make even the absurd seem probable." + +"Who have you heard comment on my style?" Boswell leaned forward. He was +as sensitive as a child about his work. + +"Oh, one of the doctors at St. Albans told me that, to him, you were the +Hans Christian Andersen of grown-ups. He always reads you after a long +strain." + +A flush touched the sallow cheeks, and the long, white fingers tapped the +chair arms nervously. + +"Well!" with a satisfied laugh, "I can prove the amount to your credit in +this case without resorting to my style. Would you mind going into your +old room and looking at the box that you will find on the couch?" + +Priscilla ran lightly from the study, her eyes and cheeks telling the +story of her delight. + +The box was uncovered. Some sympathetic hand, as fine as a woman's, had +bared the secret for her. No mother could possibly have thought out +detail and perfection more minutely. There it lay, the gift of a generous +man to a lonely girl, everything for her graduating night! The filmy gown +with its touch of colour in embroidered thistle flowers; the slippers and +gloves; even the lace scarf, cloud-like and alluring; the long gloves and +silken hose. + +Down beside the couch Priscilla knelt and pressed her head against the +sacred gift. She did not cry nor laugh, but the rapt look that used to +mark her hours before the shrine in Kenmore grew and grew upon her face. + +"You will accept? You think I did well in my--shopping?" + +Boswell stood in the doorway, just where a long path of late June +sunlight struck across the room. For the girl, looking mutely at him with +shining eyes, he was transfigured, translated. Only the great, tender +soul was visible to her; the unasking, the kind spirit. Moved by a sudden +impulse, Priscilla rose to her feet and walked to him with outstretched +hands; when she reached him he took her hands in his and smiled up at +her. + +"I--I accept," she whispered with a break in her voice. "You have made +me--happier than I have ever been in my life!" + +Boswell drew her hands to his lips and kissed them. + +"And you will come and see me in them"--Priscilla turned her eyes to the +box--"when I--dance?" + +"You are to dance?" + +"We are all to dance." + +"I have not seen you dance for many a day. If you dance as you once did +there will be only you dancing. Yes, I will come." + +And Boswell went. The exercises were held in the little chapel. From his +far corner he watched the young women, in uniforms of spotless white, +file to the platform for their diplomas. They all merged, for him, into +one--a tall, lithe creature with burnished hair, coppery and fine, and an +exalted face. Later, from behind the mass of palms and ferns in the +dancing hall, he saw only one girl--a girl in white with the tints of +the thistle flower matching the deep eyes. + +And Priscilla danced. Some one, a young doctor, asked her, and +fortunately for him he was a master hand at following. After a moment of +surprise, tinged with excited determination, he found himself, with his +brilliant partner, the centre of attraction. + +"Look! oh, do look at the little Canuck!" cried a classmate. + +"I never saw any one dance as she does"--it was Doctor Travers who spoke +from the doorway beside Mrs. Thomas--"but once before. It's quite +primeval, an instinct. No one can teach or acquire such grace as that." + +Then, suddenly, and apropos of nothing, apparently: + +"By the way, Mrs. Thomas, Miss Moffatt has been ordered abroad by Doctor +Ledyard. He spoke to-day about securing a companion-nurse for her. She's +not really ill, but in rather a curious nervous condition. I was +wondering if----" His eyes followed Priscilla, who was nearing the +cluster of palms behind which Boswell sat. + +"Of course!" Mrs. Thomas smiled broadly; "Miss Glynn, of course! She's +made to order. The girl has her way to make. She's been rather overdoing +lately. I don't like the look in her eyes at times. She never asks for +sympathy or consideration, you understand, but she makes every woman, and +man, too, judging by that rich cripple, Mr. Boswell, yearn over her. +She'd be the merriest soul on earth, with half a chance, and she's the +most capable girl I have: ready for an emergency; never weary. Why, of +course, Miss Glynn!" + +"I'll speak to Doctor Ledyard to-night," said Travers. + +Then, strangely enough, Travers realized that he was very tired. He +excused himself, and, walking back through the dim city streets to the +Ledyard home, he thought of Kenmore and the old lodge as he had not for +years. + +"I believe I'll run up there this summer," he muttered half aloud. "I'll +take mother and urge Doctor Ledyard to join us. I would like to see how +far I've travelled from the In-Place in--why it's years and years! All +the way from boyhood to manhood." + +But Ledyard changed the current of his desire. The older man was sitting +in his library when Travers entered, and Helen Travers was in the deep +window opening to the little garden space behind the house. + +Time had dealt so gently with Helen that now, in her thin white gown, she +looked even younger than in the Kenmore days, when her dress had been +more severe. + +"You're late," said Ledyard, looking keenly at him. + +"Very late," echoed Helen, smiling. "I had dinner here and am waiting to +be escorted home." + +"She's refused my company. Where have you been, Dick?" + +"I had to give out the diplomas, you know, at St. Albans." + +"It's after eleven now, Dickie." Helen's gaze was full of gentle pride. + +"I stopped for an hour to see those little girls play." + +"The nurses?" Ledyard frowned. "Girls and nurses are not one and the same +thing, to a doctor." + +"Oh, come, come, dear friend!" Helen Travers went close to the two who +were dearest to her in the world. "Do not be unmerciful. Being a woman, +I must stand up for my sex. Did they play prettily, Dick? I'm sure they +did not look as dear as they do in their uniforms." + +"One did. She was--well, to put it concisely, she was a--dance!" + +"Umph! That ruddy-headed one, I bet!" Ledyard turned on another electric +light. "See here, Dick, do you think that girl could go abroad with +Gordon Moffatt's daughter? Moffatt spoke about her. She rather impressed +him while he was in St. Albans. She stood up against him. He never +forgets that sort; he swears at it, but he trusts it. The old housekeeper +is going along to keep the party in order, but a trained hand ought to +go, too. The Moffatt girl has the new microbe--Unrest. It's playing the +devil with her nerves. She's got to be jogged into shape." + +"I think we could prevail upon Miss Glynn to go. She has her way to make. +She's been rather----" Travers stopped short; he was quoting Mrs. Thomas +too minutely. + +"Rather what, Dick?" Helen had her head against her boy's shoulder. + +"Hunting a job," he lied manfully. "Most of those girls are up against it +once the training is over." + +"And Dick," Helen raised her eyes, "Doctor Ledyard and I were talking +of a trip abroad this summer for--ourselves. Will you come? We want the +off-the-track places. Little by-products, you know. I'm hungry for--well, +for detachment; but with those I love." + +"Just the thing, little mother, just the thing!" The In-Place faded from +sight. In its stead rose a lonely mountain peak that caught the first +touch of day and held it longest. A little lake lay at its foot, and +there was the old house where he and Helen had spent so much of the +summer while he and she were abroad! + +"Where does Miss Moffatt intend to go?" asked Travers. + +"That's it. Her ideas at present are typical of her condition. 'Snip +the cord that holds me,' she said to me to-day; 'beg father to give +me a handful of blank checks and old Mousey'--that's what she calls +the housekeeper--'buy a nice nurse for me in case I need one--a nice +un-nurse-like nurse,' she stipulated--'and let me play around the world +for a few months to see if I can find my real self hiding in some cranny; +then I'll come back and be good!' The girl's a fool, but most girls are +when they've been brought up as she has been. Moffatt is at his wits' +end. Young Clyde Huntter is on the carpet just now. Think of that match! +think of what it would mean to Moffatt! There are times when I regret the +club and cliff-dwelling age where women are concerned." + +"Now, now, my dear friend, please remember my sex." + +Helen ran from Richard to Ledyard. "We're all fagged, and the June night +is sultry. After all, girls, even women, should be allowed a mind of +their own! Take me home, Dick, I'm deeply offended." She smiled and held +out her hands. + +"If they were all as sane as you, Helen," Ledyard's glance softened. "You +are exceptional." + +"Every woman is an exceptional something, good friend, if only an +exceptional fool. I'm rather proud of Margaret Moffatt's determination to +have her way, and that idea of finding herself in some cranny of the old +world is simply beautiful. I wonder----" + +"What, Helen?" + +"I wonder if an old lady like me, a lady with hair turning frosty, might, +by any possibility, find _her_ real self left back there--oh! ages, ages +before--well, before things happened which she never understood?" + +Ledyard's eyes grew moist, but he made no reply. + +It was three days later that Priscilla Glenn received a note from +Margaret Moffatt, but she had already been prepared for it by Doctor +Ledyard and Mrs. Thomas. + +"Since they think I need a nurse," the note ran, "will you call at eleven +to-morrow and see if you consider me sufficiently damaged to require your +care? From what father says, I am prepared to succumb to you at once. +Both father and I like strong oppositions!" + +The June weather had turned chilly after the brief spell of heat, and +when Priscilla was ushered into Margaret Moffatt's private library she +found a bright cannel coal fire in the little grate, beside which sat a +tall, handsome girl in house gown of creamy white. + +"And so you are--Miss Glynn?" + +As a professional accepts a non de plume, Priscilla had accepted her +name. + +"Yes. And you are--Miss Moffatt?" + +"Please sit down--no, not way off there! Won't you take this chair beside +me? I'm rather an uncanny person, I warn you. If I do not like to have +you close to me now, we could never get on--across the water! What +belongs to me, and what I ought to have, is mine from the first. Besides, +I want you to know the worst of me--for your own sake. Would you mind +taking off your hat? You have the most cheerful hair I ever saw." + +Priscilla laid her broad-brimmed hat aside and laughed lightly. She was +as uncanny as Margaret Moffatt, but she could not have described the +charm that drew her to the girl across the hearth. + +"I'm rather a hopelessly cheerful person," she said, settling herself +comfortably; "it's probably my chief virtue--or shortcoming." + +"You know I am not a bit sick--bodily, Miss Glynn. It's positively +ridiculous to have a nurse for me, but if I am to get my way with my +father I must humour him. A dear old family servant is going with me. +Father did want a private cook and guide, but we've compromised on--you! +I do hope you'll undertake the contract. I'm not half bad when I have my +way. Do you think, now that you have seen me for fifteen minutes, that +you could--tolerate me; take the chance?" + +"I should be very glad to be with you." Priscilla beamed. + +"Your eyes are--blue, I declare! Miss Glynn, by all the laws of nature +you should have eyes as dark as mine." + +"Yes; an old nurse back in my Canadian home used to say I was made of the +odds and ends of all the children my mother had and lost." + +"What a quaint idea! I believe she was right, too. That will make you +adaptable. Miss Glynn, let me tell you something, just enough to begin +on, about myself--as a case. I'm tired to death of everything that has +gone before; I do not fit in anywhere. I believe I'm quite a different +person from what every one else believes; I've never had a chance to +know myself; I've been interpreted by--by generations, traditions, and +those who love me. I want to get far enough away to--get acquainted with +myself, and then if I am what I hope I am, I will return like a happy +queen and triumphantly enter my kingdom. If I am not worthy--well, we +will not talk about that! Something, I may tell you some day, has +suddenly awakened me. I'm rather blinded and deafened. I must have time. +Can you bear with me?" + +Margaret Moffatt leaned forward in her chair. Priscilla saw that her +large brown eyes were tear-filled; the strong, white, outstretched +hands trembling. A wave of sympathy, understanding, and great liking +overwhelmed Priscilla, and she rose suddenly and stood beside the girl. + +"I--think I was meant--to help you," she said so simply that she could +not be misunderstood. "When do we--go?" + +"Go? Oh! you mean on the hunt for myself?" + +"Yes." + +"Father has the refusal of staterooms on two steamers. Could you start +in--a week? Or shall we say three weeks?" + +"It will not take me a day to get ready. My uniforms----" + +"Please, Miss Glynn, leave them behind. I'm sure you're just a nice girl +besides being a splendid nurse. I want the nice girl with me." + +"Very well. That may take two days longer." + +"We'll sail, then, in a week. And will you--will you--will you accept +something in advance, since time is so short?" + +"Something----?" + +"Yes. Your--your salary, you know." + +"Oh, you mean money? I had forgot. I shall be glad to have some. I am +very poor." + +Again the simple, frank dignity touched Margaret Moffatt with pleasurable +liking. + +"It's to be a hundred and fifty dollars a month and all expenses paid, +Miss Glynn." + +"A hundred and fifty? Oh! I cannot----" + +"Doctor Ledyard arranged it with my father. You see, they know what you +are to undergo. I rather incline to the belief that they consider they +are making quite a bargain. I hate to see you cover your hair. Somehow +you seem to be dimming the sunshine. Good-bye until----" + +"Day after to-morrow." + +"I will send a check to St. Albans to-night, Miss Glynn." + +And she did. A check for two hundred dollars with a box of yellow +roses--Sunrise roses they were called. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +There are times in life, especially when one is young, that high peaks +are the only landmarks in sight. Priscilla Glenn felt that henceforth her +Road was to be a highway constructed in such a fashion that airy bridges +would connect the lofty altitudes, and all below would exist merely as +views. + +Her first thought, on the day following her interview with Margaret +Moffatt, was to get to John Boswell, and, as she laughingly put it, pay +off her debts! + +Two hundred dollars and a full month's money from St. Albans! Gordon +Moffatt certainly could not feel richer than she. And then the months +ahead! Well--one could get dizzy on one's own heights. So Priscilla +calmed herself by a day of strenuous shopping and looked forward to the +evening with Boswell. + +A dim drizzle set in late in the afternoon, and there was a chill in the +air that penetrated sharply. The mist transformed everything, and, to +tired, overexcited nerves, the real had a touch of the unreal. The park +glistened: the tender new green on tree, bush, and grass looked as if it +had just been polished, and the early flowers stood crisply on their +young stalks. + +At the point where once she had met poor Jerry-Jo McAlpin, Priscilla +paused and was taken into control by memory and the long-ago Past. Quite +unaccountably, she longed to have her mother, even her father, know of +her wellbeing. Surely they would forgive everything if they knew just how +things had turned out for her! She almost wished she had decided to go +back to the In-Place before she started on her trip abroad. She could +have made them understand about her and poor Jerry-Jo. Was old Jerry +waiting and waiting? Something clutched Priscilla sharply. The loneliness +and silence of the Place Beyond the Winds enfolded her like a compelling +dream. How they could patiently wait, those home folks of hers! And how +dear they suddenly became, now that she was going into the new life that +promised her her Heart's Desire! + +Then she decided: since she could not go to them she must write to Master +Farwell, he had never answered her last letter, and beg him to tell them +all about it. He would go, she felt sure, and, by some subtle magic, she +seemed to see him passing along the red-rock road, his long-caped coat +flapping in the soft wind, his hair blowing across his face, the dogs +following sociably. He'd go first to old Jerry's, and then afterward, an +hour, maybe, for it would be hard for Jerry McAlpin--he would go to +Lonely Farm by way of the wood path that led by the shrine in the open +place--was the skull still there with the long-dead grasses in its ears? +It would be night, perhaps, when the master reached the farm; maybe the +star would be shining over the hemlock---- + +At this point Priscilla paused and caught her breath sharply. She had +come out of the park by the gateway opposite Boswell's apartment, and +just ahead of her, across the street, was a thin, stooping figure with +caped coat flapping in the rising wind, and hair blowing across a bent +face. + +"I--I am dreaming!" The words came brokenly. "I am bewitched!" + +But with characteristic quickness of thought and action she put her doubt +to the test. Running across the space between her and that slow-stepping +figure she panted huskily: + +"Master Farwell! Master Farwell!" + +He turned and fixed his deep, haunting eyes upon her. + +"It's Priscilla Glenn!" he whispered, as if to reassure himself; "little +Priscilla of the In-Place." + +By some trick of over-stimulated imagination Priscilla tried to adjust +the gentle, kindly man she knew and loved to the strange creature into +which he had evolved since last she met him, but she could not! To her he +would always be the friend and helper, the understanding guide of her +stormy girlhood. The rest was but shadows that came and went, cast by +happenings with which she had nothing to do. + +They were holding each other's hands under the window from which Boswell +was, perhaps, at that very moment watching and waiting. + +"Oh! my Master Farwell!" The tears rolled from the glad eyes. "I did not +know how far and how sadly I had gone until this minute!" + +"But you have not forgotten to be little Priscilla Glenn. My dear! My +dear! how glad and thankful I am to see you. You have grown--yes; you +have grown into the woman I knew you would. Your eyes are--faithful; your +lips still smile. Oh! Priscilla, the world has not"--he paused and his +old, quivering laugh rang out cautiously--"the world has not--doshed +you!" + +And then Priscilla caught him by the arm. + +"You have not seen--him?" she looked upward. + +"No. I was getting up my courage. The bird just freed from its cage--is +timid." + +"Come! A minute will not matter. I must know about my home people." + +They walked on together. Then, because her heart was beating fast and the +tears lying near, she drew close to her deepest interest by a circuitous +way. + +"Tell me of--of Mrs. McAdam and Jerry McAlpin?" + +"Mrs. McAdam is famous and rich. The White Fish Lodge has a waiting list +every summer. The--the body of Sandy drifted into the Channel a month +after you left. Bounder found it. You remember how he used to know the +sound of Sandy's engine? The day the body was washed up he--seemed to +know. One grave is filled, and Mary McAdam has put a monument between the +two graves with the names of both boys. Jerry McAlpin has grown old +and--and respectable. He has a fancy that Jerry-Jo will come back a fine +gentleman. All these years he has been preparing for the prodigal. The +young devil has never sent a line to his father. A bad lot was Jerry-Jo." + +And then Priscilla told her story with many a catch in her voice. + +"You see--he did it for me, Master Farwell. He was not all bad. Who is, +I wonder? He lies in a quiet spot Mr. Boswell and I found far out in the +country. There's a hemlock nearby and a glimpse of water. I--I think I +will not let old Jerry know. While he waits, he is happy. While he is +getting ready, life will mean something to him. And oh! Master Farwell, +when--when Jerry-Jo went, he thought he was going through the Secret +Portage to the Big Bay. I believe he will--welcome his father in the open +some day. I will not send word back to the In-Place." + +Farwell frowned. + +"Boswell has touched you with his fanciful methods," he muttered; "is +it--for the best?" + +"I am sure it is. And--my--my people, Master Farwell, my mother?" + +At this Farwell started and stepped back. The light from an electric lamp +fell full on the girl's quivering, brilliant face. He had told Boswell of +the mother's death. + +"You--you did not know?" he asked. "She died----" + +"Died? Master Farwell, my mother dead!" + +"You see--how it hurts when Boswell plays with you?" + +A note of bitterness crept into the voice. + +"When the day of reckoning comes--it hurts, it hurts like--hell!" + +He had forgotten the girl, the white, frantic face. + +"Tell me, tell me when she, my poor mother, died?" + +The words brought him back sharply, and with wonderful tenderness he told +her. + +"Long Jean was with her. She would have her and no other, because she +said Jean had helped you into the world and only she should help her out. +It is a beautiful story they tell in Kenmore of your mother's passing. +She thought she was going to you. She seemed quite happy once she found +the way! + +"'I have found her!' she cried just at the last, 'and +she--understands!'" + +"And I did, I did!" sobbed Priscilla. + +A passerby noticed the sound and paused to look at the two sharply. + +"Come, come," Farwell implored her; "we will arouse suspicion. Let us get +back to--to Boswell. I haven't much time, you see. I have promised Pine +to be back in ten days. Ten days!" + +"You promised--Pine?" + +"And you never knew?" Farwell gave an ugly laugh. "Well, I carried the +ball and chain without a whimper, I can say that for myself. Pine is my +ball and chain. Because he isn't all devil, because he knows I am not, he +went off to play on Wyland Island. You know they kill the devil there the +second week in June. Have you forgotten? Well, Pine has gone to take a +stab at satan, and I'm free--for ten days. Free!" + +"And then?" + +"And then I'm going back voluntarily, and--assume the ball and chain!" + +"Master Farwell!" + +"Do not pity me! It doesn't matter now. I only wanted to--settle with +Boswell. I've been in town--three days." + +They were nearing the big apartment house; lights from the windows were +showing cheerily through the misty fog. A chill fear shook Priscilla as +she began to comprehend the meaning of Farwell's words. In her life +Boswell, and this man beside her, stood for friendship in its truest, +highest sense, and she felt that she must hold them together in spite of +everything. She stood still and gripped Farwell's arm. + +"You--you shall not go to him," she whispered, "until you tell me--how +you are to pay him--for what he has done!" + +Farwell's white, grim face confronted her. + +"How does one pay another for lying to him, cheating him, and--and +playing with him as though he were an idiot or a child?" + +"Why did he do it, Master Farwell, why did he do it?" + +"Because----" But for very shame Farwell hesitated. "It makes no +difference," he muttered. "I'm no fool and Boswell shall find it out." + +"He has told me--the story." Priscilla still stayed the straining figure. +"All his life he has given and given to you all that was in his power to +give. He is the noblest man I ever knew, the gentlest and kindest, and I +never knew a man could love another as he has loved you. What have you +given to him--really? The smiles and jokes of the days long ago that were +heavenly to him--what did they cost you? He gave, and gave his heart's +best; he lied and cheated you, that you might have--some sort of peace +in--in Kenmore. Oh! if you only knew how he has hated it all, how he has +struggled to keep up the play even when he was so weary that the soul of +him almost gave out! And now you come to--to pay him with hate and +revenge when you have the only thing he wants in all the world at your +command--to give him!" + +The impassioned words fell into silence; the uplifted face with its +shining eyes, mist-wet and indignant, aroused Farwell at last. + +"And that is?" he asked. + +"Yourself! your faith! See, that is his light. He is waiting--for me, +because, since you sent me to him, he has been kind, heavenly kind to me, +for your sake! Everything is, has always been, for your sake. Go to him, +Master Farwell--go alone. I will come by and by; not now. Pay him for all +he has done for you--all these lonely years!" + +Farwell no longer struggled. He took Priscilla's hands in a long, close +clasp. + +"What a woman you have become, Priscilla Glenn! Thank you." + +Without a word more they parted: Farwell to go to the reckoning; +Priscilla to walk in the mist for a bit longer. + +All that occurred in Boswell's library Priscilla was never to know. + +There had been a moment of shock when Boswell, raising his eyes to greet +Priscilla, saw Farwell Maxwell standing in the doorway. + +"You have come!" Boswell gasped, with every sacred thing at stake. + +"I--have come." + +"For--what--Max?" + +"To--to thank you, if I can. To--to tell you +my story." + + * * * * * + +In the outer room Toky artistically held the dinner back. The honourable +master and his strange but equally honourable friend must not be +disturbed. Something was happening; but after a time Boswell laughed as +Toky had never heard him laugh; so it was well, and the dinner could bide +its time. + +Then Priscilla came, wet and white-faced, but with the "shine-look" in +her eyes that Toky, despite his prejudices and profession, had noted and +respected. + +"We will have the dinner now, Mees?" as if Toky ever considered her to +that extent! + +"I will--see Mr. Boswell." + +"He has--honourable friend." + +"My friend, Toky. The honourable friend is mine, also! And, oh! the +flowers, Toky! There are no roses like the June roses. How wonderfully +you have arranged them! A rose should never be crowded." + +Toky grinned helplessly. + +"Tree hours I take to make--look beautifully. One hour for each--rosy. +That why it look beautifully." + +"Yes, that is why it looks--beautifully. Three hours and--you, Toky!" + +Boswell and Farwell were sitting in front of the grate, upon which the +wood lay ready to light. Their faces were pale and haggard, but their +eyes turned to Priscilla without shame or doubt. + +"There is much--to talk about," said Boswell with his ready friendliness; +"Max--your Farwell and mine--has told me----" + +"After dinner, dear friends. I am hungry, bitterly hungry and--cold!" + +"Cold?" + +"Yes; see, I am going to set the wood to burning. By the time we come +back the room will be ready for us." + +"To be sure!" Boswell sidled from his deep chair, the pinched look on his +face relaxing. + +"A fire, to be sure. Now, Max, no one but a woman would have thought of a +fire in June." + +"No one but Priscilla!" Farwell added. + +They talked before the fire until late that evening. Priscilla's plans +were discussed and considered. So full was she of excitement and joy that +she did not notice the shock of surprise that Farwell showed when the +names of Ledyard and Travers passed her lips. Seeing that she either did +not connect the men with her past, or had reasons for not referring to +it, Farwell held his peace. It was long afterward that he confided his +knowledge to Boswell, and that wise friend bade him keep his secret. + +"It's her life, and she's treading her Road," he said; "she has an odd +fancy that her Heart's Desire lies just ahead. I cannot see that either +you or I have the right to awaken her to realities while she lives so +magically in her dreams." + +After Priscilla's own plans were gone over and over again, Boswell said +quietly: + +"I'm going back to that blessed In-Place of yours, Butterfly. You +remember how I told you, the first day I met you, that I could not +understand any one choosing the dangerous Garden when he might have--the +Place Beyond the Winds?" + +Priscilla leaned forward, her breath coming sharply. + +"You mean--you are going to--to live in Kenmore?" + +"Yes! _Live!_ That is a bright way of putting it. Live! live! The Beetle +is--going to live!" + +Priscilla looked about at the rich comfort of the room, thought of what +it meant to the delicate cripple crouching toward the blaze, his deep +eyes flame-touched and wonderful. Then she looked at Master Farwell, +whose lips were trembling. + +"He--he calls that--living!" he said slowly. "Tell him, Priscilla, of the +bareness and hardness of the life. I have tried to, but he will not +listen." + +The tears, the ready, easy tears filled Priscilla's eyes, and her heart +throbbed until it hurt. + +"He will love the hemlocks and the deep red rocks," she said, as if +speaking to herself; "he will love the Channel and the little islands, he +will love the woods--and the wind does not blow hard there--he will be +glad of that." + +"But the ugly, wretched bareness of my hut, Priscilla! For heaven's sake, +make him see that!" + +"But the--fireplace, Master Farwell!" + +"And--the friend beside it!" Boswell broke in; "and no more loneliness. A +beetle that has crawled in the Garden so long will thank God for a real +place--of its own. 'Tis but a change of scene for the Property Man." + +"I love the Garden!" murmured Priscilla, sitting between the two men, +her clasped hands outstretched toward the fire, which was smouldering +ruddily. + +"That is because you have wings, Butterfly," Boswell whispered. + +"And no fetter on your soul," Farwell said so softly that only Boswell +heard. + +"I see," Priscilla childishly wandered on, "such a lovely trail leading, +leading--where?" + +"Where, indeed?" Boswell was watching her curiously. + +"That is the beauty of it! I cannot see beyond the next step. All my life +I have tried to keep my yearnings within bounds; now I--just follow. It's +very, very wonderful. Some day I am going back to the In-Place. I shall +find you both sitting by Master Farwell's beautiful fire, I am sure. It +will be the still morning time, I think, and you will be so glad to see +me, and I shall tell you--all about it!" + +"Heaven keep you!" + +Boswell's voice was solemn and deep. + +"Life will keep her safe," Farwell said with a laugh. "Life will take no +liberties with her. She got her bearings, Jack, before the winds knocked +her. Let us both walk home with her. What sort of a night is it?" + +Priscilla went to the window. + +"It's rather black," she returned; "as black as the big city ever is. The +mist is clearing; it's a beautiful night." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +"Of course," Priscilla leaned back in her deep-cushioned chair and +laughed from sheer delight, "I was a better girl in my former life +than I ever had any idea of, or I wouldn't have been given this----" + +She and Margaret Moffatt were sitting on the piazza of a little Swiss +inn. Below them lay a tiny lake as blue and as clear as a rare gem; round +about them towered snowy peaks, protectingly. All that was past--was +past! There did not seem to be any future; the present was sufficient. + +"I think you must have been rather a good child, back there," Margaret +Moffatt said, looking steadfastly at the girl near her; "and, anyway, you +ought to have a rich reward for your hair if for no other reason." + +"A recompense, you mean?" + +"Heavens! no! I was thinking, as I often do when I see the lights in your +hair, that for making people so cheerful and contented nothing is too +good for you. I'm extremely fond of you, Priscilla Glynn! It's only when +you put on your cap and apron manner that I recall--unpleasant things. +Just tuck them out of sight and let us forget everything but--this! +Isn't it divine?" + +"It's--yes, it is divine, Miss Moffatt." + +"Now then! Along with the cap and apron, please pack away Miss Moffatt +and Miss Glynn. Let us be Priscilla and Margaret. This is a whim of mine, +but I have a fancy for knowing what kind of _girls_ we are. No one can +tamper with us here. Dear old Mousey never gets above a dead level, or +below it. Practically we are alone and detached. Let us play--girls! +Nice, chummy girls. Do you know, I never had a friend in my life who +wasn't labelled and scheduled? I was sent to school where just such and +such girls were sent--girls proper for me to know. Often they were not, +but that was not considered so long as they wore their labels. It wasn't +deemed necessary for me, or my kind, to go to college: our lines of +action were chosen for us. Certain labelled men were presented; always +labels, labels! Even when I was running about with my label on I used to +have mad moments of longing to snatch all the hideous things off--my own +as well as others--and find out the truth! And here we are, you and I! I +do not want to know anything about you; I want to find out for myself, in +my own way. I want you to forget that I ever wore a tag. Did you ever +have a girl chum?" + +"I think I know, now," Priscilla said quietly, "why this particular +little heaven was given to me. I never, in all my life, had a girl +friend. Think of that! I did not realize what I was missing until I--came +into your life. Actually, I never had a girl or woman friend in the sense +you mean. I was a lonely, weird little child; and then I--I came to the +training school; and the girls there did not like me--I was still +weird----" + +"Now, Priscilla, I do not want to know anything more about you! I intend +to find you out for myself. Come, there's a boat down there, big enough +for you and me. Do you row?" + +"Yes, and paddle." + +"You lived near the water! Ha! ha!" + +"And you do--not row, Margaret?" + +"No." + +"Then you have never lived at all. You must learn to use oars and a +paddle. It's when you have your own hand on the power that makes you +go--that you live." + +Margaret Moffatt turned and looked at Priscilla. + +"You say, haphazard, the most Orphic things. There are times when I can +imagine you before some shrine making an offering and chanting all sorts +of uncanny rites. Of course it is when one has her hand on her own +tiller, and is heading for what she wants, that she begins to--live. I +declare, I haven't felt so young in--twenty years! I'm twenty-five, +Priscilla. My father considers me on the danger-line. Poor daddy!" + +"I'm----" + +"I do not want to know your age, Priscilla. Mythological characters are +ageless." + +Those were the days when Priscilla Glenn and Margaret Moffatt found their +youth. Safeguarded by the faithful old housekeeper, who, happily, could +understand and sympathize, they played the hours away like children. + +"We'll travel by and by," promised Margaret. "It's rather selfish for me +to hold you here when all the world would be fresh to you." + +"I take root easily," Priscilla returned, "and I'm like a plant we have +in my old home. My roots spread, and time is needed to strengthen them; +suddenly I shoot up and--flower. The little Canadian blossom doesn't seem +to justify the strong, spreading roots. I hope you will not find me +disappointing, Margaret." + +Margaret Moffatt smiled happily. + +"Just to think," she said, "that my real self and your real self +were waiting for us here behind the white hills! All along, through +generations and generations, they have been acquainted and have loved and +trusted each other, and then we, the unreal selves, came! Sometimes I +wonder"--Margaret looked dreamy--"what they think of us, just between +themselves? I am sure your true self must be prouder of you than mine can +be of me, for, with everything at my command, what am I? While you--oh, +Priscilla, how you have made everything tell!" + +But Priscilla shook her head. + +"Still," Margaret went on, "things were not at my command. They were all +there, but pigeon-holed and controlled. Such and such things were for +nice little girls like me! After a time I got to believe that, and it was +only when, one day, I touched something not intended for me that my soul +woke up. Priscilla, did you ever feel your soul?" + +"Yes." + +"Isn't it wonderful? It makes you see clearly your--your----" + +"Ideal?" suggested Priscilla. + +"Yes; the thing you want to be; the thing that seems best to _you_ +without the interpretation of others. It stands unclouded and holy; and +nothing else matters." + +"And you never forget--never!" + +"No. Your eyes may be blinded for a moment, but you do not forget--ever!" + +They were out on the gemlike lake now, and Priscilla was sternly +instructing Margaret how to handle an oar. + +"It will never go the way you want it to," Margaret protested, making an +ineffectual dab at the water. + +"When it does you will know the bliss! Get a little below the surface, +and have faith in yourself." + +And that was the day that Priscilla caught a new light on Margaret's +character. They landed at a tiny village across the lake and wandered +about, Margaret talking easily to the people in their own tongue, +Priscilla straining to follow by watching faces and gestures. While they +stood so, discussing the price of some corals, a little child came close +to them and slipped a deliciously dimpled, but very dirty little hand in +Margaret's. At the touch the girl started, turned first crimson and then +pale, and looked down. Suddenly her eyes deepened and glowed. + +"The darling!" she whispered, and bent to catch what the child was +saying. Presently she looked up, tears dimming her eyes, and said to +Priscilla, "She says a new baby came to their house last night. She +wanted to tell--me!" + +"And ten already have been there," broke in a brown-faced native woman. + +"But she is glad, and she wanted _me_ to know! Come, my sweet, tell me +more about the baby, and then we will go and see it." + +They sat down under a clump of trees, and the dirty little maid nestled +close to Margaret, while with uplifted head and unabashed confidence she +told of the mystery. + +Priscilla watched Margaret Moffatt's face. She was almost awed by the +change that had come over it. The aloofness and pride which often marked +it had disappeared as if by magic; the tenderness, passionate in its +intentness, cast upon the little child, moved her to wonder and +admiration. Later they went to the poor hovel and bent beside the humble +bed on which the mother and child lay. Then it was that Priscilla played +her part and made comfortable and grateful the overburdened creature, +worn and weak from suffering. + +"'Twas the good God who sent you," murmured she. + +"'Twas your little maid," smiled Margaret, tucking a roll of bills under +the hard, lumpy pillow. "Take time to love the babies--leave other +things--but love them and enjoy them." + +"Yes, my lady." + +On the way back in the boat Margaret was very silent for a time as she +watched Priscilla row; finally she said: + +"Did it surprise you--my show of feeling for the--the child?" + +"It was very beautiful. I did not know you cared so much for children, +and this one was so--dirty." + +"But so real! You see I have never had real children in my life. The +kinds passed out to nice girls like me were sad travesties. Since I saw +the darling of to-day I've been wondering--do not laugh, Priscilla--but +I've been wondering what poor, cheated little morsel of humanity, in the +unreal world, would find herself in that eleventh miracle of the wretched +hovel? And what an art yours is, dear Priscilla! How you soothed away the +suffering by your touch. I loved you better as I realized how that +training of yours knows neither high nor low when it seeks to heal." + +Priscilla thought of the operation on Margaret Moffatt's father, and her +quick colour rose. + +"And I loved you better when I saw how your humanity knows neither high +nor low--just love!" + +"Only toward little children. I cannot explain it, but when I touch the +babies, their littleness and helplessness make me weak and trembling +before--well, before the strength comes in a mighty wave. There is a +physical sensation, a thrill, that comes with the first contact, and when +they trust me, as that darling did this morning, I feel as if--God had +singled me out! Only lately have I begun to understand what this means +in me. It is one reason why I came away. I had to think it out. I +suppose"--she paused and looked steadily at Priscilla--"I suppose the +maternal has always been a master passion in me, and I've rebelled at +being an only child; at having no children but the--specialized kind. +I have been hungry for so many things I am realizing now." + +"In my training I have seen--what you mean. All sorts drift in--to pay +the price of love or the penalty of passion, as Doctor Ledyard used to +express it; but"--and Priscilla's eyes grew darker--"I used to find--a +nurse gets so much closer, you know, than a doctor can--I found that +sometimes it was the penalty of love and the price of passion. Those +sad young creatures, with only blind instinct to uphold them, were +so--divinely human, and paid so superbly. When it comes to the hour of +a life for a life, one thing alone matters, I am afraid, and it is the +thing _you_ mean, Margaret." + +"Yes. And what a horrible puzzle it all is. The thing I mean should be +always there--always. The world's wrong when it is not." + +Suddenly Priscilla, sending the light boat forward by the impulse of her +last stroke, said, as if it were quite in line with all that had gone +before: + +"There's Doctor Travers on the wharf!" + +He heard her, and called back: + +"Quite unintentionally, I assure you. I was waiting for the boat to take +me across. I've been wandering about, sleeping where I could. I simply +find myself--here!" + +At this both girls laughed merrily. + +"This is the place of Found Personalities," Margaret Moffatt said, +jumping lightly to the wharf. "Perhaps you'll come to the inn and have +luncheon with us--that is, if you are sure Doctor Ledyard did not send +you here to spy on me." + +"I haven't seen him since I left America. My mother is with me; she's in +a crack of the hills in Italy. She wanted to be alone. Doctor Ledyard +will join us later." + +"Then come to the house. They serve meals on a dangerously poised balcony +over the lake; we curb our appetites for fear our weight may be the one +thing the structure cannot stand. Our old housekeeper waits upon us, but +is in no wise responsible for the food which is often very bad and +lacking in nourishment." + +"You seem to thrive on it." Travers looked at the two before him. "I +wonder just what it is this air and place have done to you?" + +"Tell him, Priscilla." + +"Oh, like you, Doctor Travers, we simply found ourselves--here! That's +all." + +Travers did not leave the inn that night, nor for many days thereafter. + +"Doctor Ledyard will join my mother and me early in August," he +explained; "until then I'm a floating proposition. I wish you'd let me +stay on a while, Miss Moffatt, right here. I want to analyze the food, it +puzzles me. Why just this kind of conglomeration should achieve such +results is interesting. I've gained five pounds in six days." + +"And lost ten years," Margaret broke in. "I never thought of you as +young, Doctor Travers; professional men never do seem youthful; but +_here_ you're rather a good sort." + +And Travers remained, much to the delight of the old housekeeper, who, +with a nurse and a doctor in command, cast all responsibility aside. + +"Young Miss looks well," she confided to the proprietor's wife, who, +fortunately, could understand a word or so of English; "but folks is like +weather: the fairer they seem, the nearer a storm. When a day or a person +looks uncommonly fair--a weather breeder, says I, and generally, nine +times out of ten, I'm right. My young lady is too changed to be +comfortable. It's either a breaking up, or----" But here a shout for +"Mousey," silenced further prophecy. + +The days ran along without cloud or shadow. Quite naturally, perhaps, +Priscilla began to think that a drama of life was being enacted in the +quiet, detached village. They three were always together, always enjoying +the same things, but certainly no man, so she thought, could be with +Margaret Moffatt long without falling at her feet. Gradually to Priscilla +Glenn this girl stood for all that was fine and perfect. In her she saw +all women as women should be. With the adoration she was so ready to give +to that which appealed to her, Priscilla lavished the wealth of her +affection upon Margaret Moffatt. Surely it was because of Margaret that +Doctor Travers stayed on, and became the life of the party. To be sure he +was tact itself in making Priscilla feel at ease; but that only confirmed +her in her belief that he wanted to please Margaret to the uttermost. +Often Priscilla recalled, with keener appreciation, John Boswell's +description of Anton Farwell's conception of friendship. In like manner +Margaret Moffatt claimed for her companion all that justly belonged to +herself. Dispassionately, vicariously, Priscilla learned to know and +admire the man who undoubtedly in time would win her one friend. It was +all beautiful and natural, and in the lovely detachment it grew and grew. +The long walks and drives, the rows upon the lake by sunlight and +moonlight, all conspired to perfect the comradeship. They read together, +sang together--very poorly to be sure--and once, just to vary the charm, +they travelled to a nearby town and danced at a village fete. An odd +thing happened there. Owing to high spirits and a sense of +unconventionality, they entered into the sports with abandon. Travers +even begged a reel with a pretty Swiss maiden, and led her proudly away, +much to Margaret's and Priscilla's delight. Later, the men and women of +the place came forward, and, entering a little ring formed by admiring +friends, performed, separately, the native dances. + +Travers watched Priscilla with a puzzled look in his eyes. She trembled +with excitement; seemed hypnotized by the exhibition, much of which was +delightfully graceful and picturesque. Then, suddenly, to the surprise of +every one, she took advantage of a moment's pause and ran into the ring. + +"Whatever possesses her?" whispered Margaret to Travers; "she looks +bewitched. See! she is--dancing!" + +Travers watched the tall, slim figure in the thin white gown over +which a light scarf, of transparent crimson, floated as the evening +breeze and the girl's motions freed it. At first Priscilla took her steps +falteringly, her head bent as if trying to recall the measure and rhythm; +then with more confidence she swung into the lovely pose and action. With +uplifted eyes and smiling lips, seeming to see something hidden from +others, she bent and glided, curtesied and tripped, this way and that. + +The lookers-on were wild with delight. The beauty of the thing itself, +the willingness of the foreigners to join in the sport, aroused the +temperamental enthusiasm, and the clapping and cheering filled the hall +with noise. Suddenly the musicians dropped their instruments. They were +but human, and, since they could not keep in time with this new and +amazing dance, they drew near to admire. + +"Play!" pleaded Priscilla, past heeding the sensation she was creating. +"The best is yet to come!" + +Carried out of himself, entering now wholly into the adventure, Travers +caught up a violin near him and sent the bow over the strings with a +master touch. He hardly knew what he played; he was himself, carried away +on a wave of enchantment. + +"Ah!" + +The word escaped Priscilla like a cry of glad response. + +"Now!" + +They two, the musician and the dancer, seemed alone in the open space. +The flashing eyes, the cheering voices, the clapping hands, even Margaret +Moffatt, pale, puzzled, yet charmed, were obliterated. It was spring time +in the Place Beyond the Winds, and the dance of adoration was in full +swing, while the old tune, never out of time with the graceful, whirling +form, played on and on. And then--the ring melted away, the lights grew +dim, and Priscilla stood still. + +"I'm--I'm tired," faltered she. A hand was laid upon her arm, some one +guided her out of the heated, breathless room; they were alone, she and +he, under wide-spreading trees, and a particularly lovely star was +pulsing overhead. + +"You are crying!" Travers's voice was low and tense. "Why?" + +"It--it was the music! It was like something I had heard, and--and I was +so tired. I was very foolish. Can you, can Margaret, forgive me?" + +"Forgive you? Why, you were--I dare not tell you what you were! Here, sit +down. Do not tremble so! Tell me, where did you learn to dance as you +do?" + +Priscilla had dropped upon the rough rustic seat; she did not seem to +notice the hand that rested upon her clasped ones under the thin scarf. +She no longer cried, but the tears shone on her long lashes. + +"I--I never learned. It--it is I, myself. I thought I had grown into +something else, but--I shall always be the same--when I let myself go." + +"Let yourself go? Good heavens! Why not let yourself go--forever?" +Travers's voice shook. "You have brought joy and youth to us all--to me, +who never had youth. What--who are you?" he laughed boyishly. She sat +rigidly erect and turned her sad eyes upon him. + +"I'm Priscilla Glynn--a nurse! And you? Oh! you are Doctor Travers! Can +you not see my beautiful, happy, happy life is ended--must end? Margaret, +you, everything this joyous summer has made me--forget. Soon I am going +back--where there is no dancing!" + +"And--cease to be yourself?" + +"Yes. But I shall always remember. Not many have had the wonderful +glimpse I have had--not many." + +"I--I will not let you go back! You belong in the light; in love and the +giving of love. You have given me a glimpse of myself--as I should be. I +have stayed in this magic place without a past and a future--for your +sake! I see it now. I love----" + +"Oh! please, please stop. We are both mad, and when to-morrow comes and +the day after, and the day after that, we will both be sorry, and, oh! I +want all my life to--to--be glad because of this night." + +"You shall--remember it--all your life as--your happiest night, if I can +make it so!" + +His face was bent close to hers. For the first time Travers was +overpowered by the charm of woman, and all the pent passion and love of +his life broke bonds like a wild, primeval thing that education and +conventions had never touched. + +"I--I want you! I want you without knowing any more than if you and I had +been born anew in this wonderful life. Look at me! You believe I can +offer you--the one perfect gift a man should offer a woman?" + +She looked long and tenderly in his eyes. She was--going to leave him; +she could afford the truth. She was brave now. + +"Yes," she whispered. + +"And I know you to be--what I want. Isn't that enough? Can we not trust +each--for the rest?" + +"Yes, if the white hills could shut us forever from the other things." + +"Other things?" + +"Yes, the things of to-morrow. Duty, the demands that lie--over the +Alps." + +"I--renounce them all!" + +"But they will not renounce us!" + +Travers felt her slipping from him. A man whose youth has been denied, as +his had, is a puppet in Fate's hands when youth makes its claims. + +"I--mean to have you! Do you hear me? I mean to have you." + +And just then Margaret Moffatt drew near. Calmly, smilingly, she came +like one playing her part in a perfectly arranged drama. + +"You are here? Ready for home? Wasn't it sublime and exactly as it should +be? We are so nice and friendly with our real selves." + +There was no surprise; no suggestion of disapproval. The world in which +they were all playing could have only direct and simple processes. But, +having lived in a past world where her perceptions had been made keen and +vital, Margaret Moffatt understood what she saw. She had noticed every +letting down and abandonment of Travers since he had joined them. She was +too wise not to know the effect of such a woman as Priscilla upon such a +man; such a denied and almost puritanical man as Travers. She knew his +story from her father. An artistic triumph was hers that night. The +splendid elements of primitive justice had been set in motion, and almost +gleefully she wondered what they would do with Richard Travers and +Priscilla Glynn. + +For herself? Well, she had put herself to the test and had come out +clear-visioned and glad to a point of dangerous excitement. Only two or +three mighty things mattered, if one were to gain in the marvellous game. +She meant to hold to them and let the rest go! + +But Travers had not passed through Ledyard's school and come out +untouched. After leaving Priscilla, silent and white, he had gone to his +room and flung himself down upon a low couch by the window. Then his old +self took him in hand while he stubbornly resisted every attack that +reason, as trained by Ledyard, made upon him. + +"Think of--your mother! What has she not done and suffered that you might +stand before the world--a free man? And your profession; your future! +They are all your mother holds to for her peace and joy. And I? Well, I +do not claim anything for myself; but you know the game as well as I. If +you toss to the winds all that has been gained for you, professionally +and socially, you are done for! Your renunciation and restraint, what +have they amounted to, unless you accept them as stepping-stones and +go--on?" + +And then Travers clenched his hands and had his say. + +In that moment his own mother rose clear and radiant beside him and made +her appeal. She pleaded for justice, but she showed mercy. He must not +forget or forego anything that had been gained for him; but he was her +child, the child of her love--unasking, unfettered love--and the passion +that was throbbing in him was pure and instinctive; he must not deny it +or the rest would be shucks! Non-essentials must not hamper him. Alone, +unsought, a strange and compelling force had made him captive. All that +others, and himself, had achieved for him must make holy this simple but +all-powerful desire. + +Then she faded, that poor, little, half-forgotten mother! But she left, +like the fragrance of rare flowers that had been taken from the dim, +moon-lighted room, a memory of happiness and sweetness and content. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +By all the deductions of experience the three people in the little inn +should have, in the light of the morning after, been reduced to common +sense; but the day laughed common sense to scorn and fanned the fires of +the previous evening to bright flame. + +"I must write a letter," announced Margaret after breakfast, "a letter so +momentous that it will take me--an hour and a half! But my plans and +yours are all laid. Now, Priscilla, none of your cap and apron look. +You'll do exactly what I tell you to do; and you, too, Doctor Travers." + +"I haven't the slightest intention of disobeying. And as for my cap and +apron, I've burned them!" Priscilla tossed her head. + +Travers looked at her, and her loveliness seemed enhanced in her trim +white linen gown with its broad collar of Irish lace. How magnificent her +throat was! What a perfect woman she was! And _what_ hair! + +"There is a train that leaves here at nine-thirty, a mad little +ramshackle train that goes to The Ghost and back in an hour and a half. +We've all yearned to climb The Ghost, or as much of it as we dared. Now +you two, with Mousey and a servant, are to go on the nine-thirty. I'll +finish my destruction of the social system and catch the eleven o'clock +train. We'll have picnic lunch. They say there's a dreadful cavern at the +base of The Ghost that is corking for picnics, and then we'll explore +until we have to return. Any objections?" + +There were none. + +"Very well! It's nine now! Priscilla, wear the roughest, heaviest things +you've got. You always have your hours of remorse too late. The Ghost +will chill your blood." + +When the little party reached the small station at the mountain foot the +servants started at once to the cavern to build a fire and prepare for +the luncheon. + +"Let us walk a bit up the trail," suggested Travers. "I always feel +like the Englishman who said the views halfway up a mountain are more +enjoyable than those on top. At least, you have life enough left to enjoy +them. This particular trail is a mighty wicked one. There ought to be +guides, for safety. I know the way perfectly; my mother and I once stayed +here some years ago. She meant to come here this summer early, but has +decided to wait until Doctor Ledyard joins us. I feel as if I were taking +the cream off the thing. Will you trust me--Priscilla?" + +There was challenge and command in the use of her name. + +"Absolutely." + +"Come, then! I want you to go first. The rise is easy for a half-mile or +so. I can better watch out for you and catch you--if you make a misstep. +The stones are loose and mischievous; the path is ridiculously near the +edge of things. If one should--now do not get nervous, but if you should +go over, just clutch the bushes, the sturdy little clumps, and nothing +can really happen." + +"I never get nervous in high places. Being used to dead levels, I have +the courage of the ignorant. Doesn't the air make one----" + +"Heady?" + +"Yes. I suppose that is it. Heady and--light-hearted." + +Travers had his eyes fixed on the form ahead in its dark blue mountain +skirt and corduroy waist. + +"I wish you would take off your hat," he said. + +Priscilla obeyed. + +"Thank you! Will you let me--love you?" + +He noticed a tremor run the length of her body. + +"Is--that in my giving?" Priscilla meant to play just a little longer, +only a little, and then she must make him see that because this sudden +and great thing had come to them both, they must prove themselves worthy +of it by unselfish recognition of deep truths. + +"No. But I would like to have you say--yes! I meant all I said last +evening; you said nothing. I mean to have you, because I love you; +because I know you love me, and because nothing else matters. It's only +fair to warn you. You _do_ love me?" + +"Is it love--when everything else is swept aside?" + +"Yes." + +"All but the longing--for the best?" + +"Yes. That is love." + +"Then, I love you." + +"On ahead there is a tiny bluff, do not speak again until we reach it. A +strange and wonderful thing came to me there once--years ago. I want to +tell you about it, my beloved!" + +Travers watched her as he spoke. Again that tremor ran through Priscilla. + +It was nearly noon when they stopped, at Travers's word. They had come, +silently, up the trail, only their footsteps and their quicker breathing +breaking the awesome stillness. Their separate thoughts were bringing +them dangerously nearer together, trampling caution, warning, and purpose +beneath their young yearning for the vital meaning of life. When they +faced each other at last it was as if they had indeed been transfigured. + +"Mine!" whispered Travers, stretching out his hands. "You are mine! Do +not struggle." + +Priscilla put her hands in his, but did not speak. + +"And now let us sit here. I want you to understand. You will try to +understand?" + +"Yes." + +All her life Priscilla was to look back on that moment as the first +perfect one of her life. She felt no shame in taking it. It belonged to +her, and she meant to prove herself to him. + +"I feel as if there were a new heaven and a new earth, Priscilla, and +that you and I had just been created--the first man, the first woman. +Dear heart, rest your head, so, against my knee." He was sitting above +her. "Your hair holds all the glory of the sunlight, and how white and +warm your throat is!" His fingers touched it reverently. "Let us cling +to this one hour that has given us to each other. Are you happy?" + +"It means--something more than that--this moment----" Priscilla spoke as +if held by a dream. + +"You are--content?" + +"Yes. That is it. I am--content. I shall never ask for anything more, +anything better. I have everything--the world and--and God, has to give." + +"My darling! Now let me tell you. Years ago I came here after a hard +struggle for health. I had never had childhood or boyhood, in the real +sense; but I was well at last! I saw that I was going to have a man's +life, with all that that means, and for months the emotions and cravings, +that generally go to the years of making a child and boy, had been +crowding and pushing me to a sense of having been defrauded, and I meant +to have my turn at last: my joy and pleasure. It seemed just and right to +me that I should taste and revel in all that I had been deprived of. I +had even been deprived of the longing, had not even had the glory of +conquest. I had been such a meaningless creature, I thought I could +afford even to be selfish. I shrank from being _different_--I had been +forced to in the past--but I meant to make up for lost time and take my +place among my fellows. + +"One morning, just such a morning as this, I found myself alone--here! +Then I had it out with myself. More distinctly than anything had ever +come to me before I realized that life meant one thing, and one thing +only: the biggest fight or the meanest defeat! I knew that every passion +that burned and flayed me was a warhorse that, if controlled, would carry +me safely through the battle; if succumbed to, would trample me under its +relentless feet. This I knew with my brain, while tradition, inclination, +and longing called me--fool! Well, I was given strength to follow my +head; but every year has been a struggle. I found that to be different +meant contempt often, misunderstanding always. Sometimes it has not +seemed worth while; the victories were so lonely and useless; but I +thanked God last night, when I saw your face as you danced, that I could +offer you a love that need not make the pitiful plea for mercy from your +love. Through temptation and the long fight it has always seemed to me +that no man should ask for pure love without the equivalent to offer in +return. + +"Can you understand when I say that this battle of mine has brought me +closer to men and women, with no bitterness in my heart; has left me +free, not to despise them, but to help them?" + +"Yes, oh, yes; all my life I could understand those who--fight. I, too, +have fought and fought." + +Travers's hand was pressing upward the head against his knee so that he +could look in the uplifted eyes. + +"My love! as free man and woman, let us give ourselves to each other!" + +Then he bent and kissed the smiling mouth. + +"Speak to me, my--wife." + +"Yes! But let me think, dear heart. I must speak; the half has only been +told." She moved a bit away from him. Travers let her go with no fear. + +"Now, strange little thing, since you cannot speak in my arms, have your +will!" he whispered. + +"There is a to-morrow." The even voice had no strain of pain or sorrow in +it. "And we must not forget that. We have played and played until we have +made ourselves believe--such wonderful things; but to-morrow--we will +wake up and be what we have been made! I have heard, oh! so many people, +tell of your future, your honours. I have seen Doctor Ledyard's eyes upon +you; I know you have a mother who adores you. I do not know your world; I +could not touch your place but to mar it, and, because I love you so--oh! +so absolutely, and because I would want, and must have, glory in my own +love--we must stop playing! We have not"--and now the eyes dimmed--"we +have not played for keeps!" + +"You poor, little girl! How you use the old, foolish arguments, thinking +yourself--wise. Do you imagine I could let you dim the sacred thing that +has come to us--by such idle prating? There are only you and I and--the +future. You darling child, come here!" + +In reaching toward her, Travers's foot pressed too heavily against the +stone upon which she sat; it moved, slipped, and Priscilla escaped his +clutch. Not realizing her danger, she smiled up at him radiantly. She +meant what she had said, but youth could not relinquish its rights +without a struggle, and his eyes were so heavenly kind. + +"My God! Clutch the bushes, Priscilla!" + +"What--is the matter?" But with the question came the knowledge. She was +going down, down, and every effort he made to save her sent her farther +along the awful slope! She held to a nearby bush but uprooted it by the +force with which she gripped it. Faster, faster, with that terrified face +above her! + +"My precious one! Try again! Do not be afraid!" + +"No." + +And then they both heard the hoarse whistle of the little shuttle train +nearing The Ghost, with Margaret Moffatt on board! + +Travers realized the new danger. Very steep was the grade of the +mountain, and it ended on--the tracks! + +He shut his eyes; he could do no more. Every move he made imperilled the +woman he would give his life to save. The only comfort he knew was that +he, too, was losing, losing. They would be together at the last. + +Priscilla understood also. She looked up and saw him close his eyes; then +fear fled, as it does when the last hope takes it. It would soon be over +for them, and--nothing in all the world could separate them. There was +nothing but him and her! He had seen that; but now she saw it, too. Him +and her! him and her! + +"I--love you so!" she whispered. "I am not afraid. I'm sorry. I would +have given myself to you! I would indeed!" + +She wanted him to know. He opened his eyes and smiled a twisted, hideous +smile. + +"I--meant--to have you." The words came to her faintly. A nearer shriek +of the whistle, and a deafening clang of the bell! Some one at the +throttle of the engine had an inspiration and sent the crazy thing +shooting ahead. + +Then it was past, and upon the tracks over which the car had but just +gone lay Priscilla Glenn quite unconscious! + +Travers came to himself at once, and took her head on his knee where but +a short time ago it had lain so happily. + +"You, Priscilla!" It was Margaret Moffatt who spoke. The train had +stopped; the few passengers had come back to see what had happened. + +"Yes; my God! Yes! Miss Moffatt, will you see if she is dead? I dare not +trust--myself." + + * * * * * + +It was late that night, in Priscilla's room at the inn, that she and +Margaret had their talk. + +Priscilla lay upon her bed weak and bruised, but otherwise safe. Margaret +sat beside her, her hand in Priscilla's. + +"Doctor Travers has pulled himself together at last," she said. "I never +saw a strong man so shattered. And you, dear, you are sure you have told +me the truth--you are not suffering?" + +"No, only a little dazed. That's natural after looking death in the face +for hours and hours while everything slipped away from you--things you +had always thought meant something." + +"Yes, poor girl!" + +"And they--meant nothing. They never do." + +"No. You found that at death's door; I found it at life's. I want to tell +you something, dear, that will make you forget yourself--and think of me. +You are sure you cannot sleep?" + +"I do not want to sleep." + +"Priscilla, I have given myself to love! You can understand. Travers has +just told me--about him and you!" + +A faint colour touched the face on the pillow. + +"It was the telling that brought him around. He's superb, and you're a +daffy little goose, Cilla. Imagine a man like Travers letting a girl like +you slip through his fingers." + +"He did!" weakly interrupted Priscilla. + +"But he followed you right down, and into--hell!" + +"Into life and joy, you mean, Margaret--life!" + +"Well, at any rate, he was with you. It is magnificent to see a man, +or a woman, big enough, brave enough, and sensible enough to sweep the +senseless rubbish of life aside, and get each other! Oh! it's life as God +meant it. Priscilla, the letter I wrote to-day was to--_my_ man. He's as +splendid as yours. I told you once how I--I loved children. I had taken +that love for granted until something happened. A friend of mine +married--one of the girls my people thought was the kind for me to know. +She didn't understand life any more than I did; she just took one of the +men who wore the same label she did. Her child came--a year after; a +horrible little creature--diseased; dreadful--can you understand?" + +"Yes"--Priscilla had turned toward the girl by her side--"yes, I know +what you mean. I have been a nurse." + +"That was the first time things we should have known--were known by my +friend and me!" Margaret's voice was low and hard. + +"She--she cursed him, her husband--and left him! It was terrible! I was +frightened, more frightened than I had ever been. Everything seemed +tottering around me. I thought--I must die; I dared trust nothing. Just +then--some one told me--he loved me; and I--I had loved him. But I was +more afraid of him than of any one in God's world. I thought I was going +mad, and then--I went to Doctor Ledyard and told him all about it. I just +threw my whole burden of doubt and ignorance upon him--he is such a +_good_ man! Sometimes I weep when I think of him. He was father, friend, +and physician, all in one. He understood. He told me to go away; he got +you for me. He told me to play like a little girl, with only the real and +beautiful things of life; to forget the worries, and he would make sure! + +"Priscilla, he has made sure! My love is safe. I can give myself to my +love and let it have its way with me, and in the beautiful future, our +future, his and mine, little children cannot--curse us by their suffering +and deformity. + +"This _must_ be the heritage a woman should be able to give her children, +or she has no right to her own love. God has been so good to me--he has +not asked for sacrifice; but"--here she spoke fiercely--"I was ready to +sacrifice my love--for I had seen my friend's baby! + +"I had never known God before as I know him now. He came to me with love +and faith and my glorious life. Before, my God was a prayer-book God; a +dead thing that only rustled when we touched him; and now, oh! Cilla, he +is alive and breathing in good men and women, in little children, in all +the beautiful, real things. They did not bury my God, or yours, long ago; +they only set him free for us to find and love and follow." + +They clung to each other in a passion of reverence and happiness, and +then kissed each other good night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +"My girl," said Travers a week later, "how shall it be? May I tell every +one how madly happy I am? May I take you to that little shrine a mile up +the mountain yonder and make you--mine--and then show them all _why_ I +am so happy? Or----" + +"Yes. Or----" Priscilla lay quite contentedly in his arms, her eyes on +the shining outlines of The Ghost. + +"And that means, my sweet?" + +"That we should keep this blessed secret just a little longer--to +ourselves. I feel as if I could not bear to have it explained, defended, +or justified, and all that must follow, my very dear man, when the play +is over and we return to--to school. I shall be glad and ready to do all +this a little later on; proud to have you do it for me, and--we'll face +the music. It is going to be music, dear, I am sure of that. But some +very stern questions will be asked by that sweet mother of yours, and she +shall have her answer. Then Doctor Ledyard, with all the prayer gone from +his eyes, will call me up for judgment and demand to know what right a +nurse, even a white nurse, had to lay hands upon a young physician who +was on the road to glory! It will be hard to answer him; but never mind!" + +"And then, dear lady of mystery, what then?" + +"Why, then I'm going to beckon to you and we'll dance----" + +"Dance, my darling?" + +"Yes, dance away and away to a holy place I know, and then I'm going to +tell you the whole story of Priscilla----" + +But at that moment Margaret Moffatt came upon the scene. The miracle of +love had transfigured the girl. She looked, as Travers had said to +Priscilla, like the All Woman: large, fine, and noble, with unashamed +surrender in her splendid eyes. + +"And that is what she is!" Priscilla had replied, "the All Woman. I could +die for her, live for her, do anything for her. For me, she is the first, +the one woman, in all the world." + +"Young devotee, could you, would you, give your--love up for her?" +Travers had asked, and then Priscilla spoke words that Travers remembered +long afterward. + +"I could not give my love up for--that is--I, myself; just as the dance +is--just as my soul is--but I could; yes, I know I could give up--my +happiness for her, if by so doing I could spare her one shadow. Her +glorious nature could reach where mine never could." + +"Yours reaches to me, little girl." + +"But hers--oh! my dear man, hers reaches to--the world. If you knew her +as I know her!" + +But Margaret was whimsical and witchy as she came upon the two in the +small arbour by the lake. + +"Folks," she said, "let us keep our nice little surprises to ourselves +for a while, like miserly creatures. My dear old daddy-boy is fretting +and fussing about me, 'dreading the issue,' as he told Doctor Ledyard, +and behold--I'm going to do exactly what my daddykins desires! And you, +Doctor Richard Travers, you are wanted by your lady mother. Here's a +telegram. The girl in the office always tells what is in a telegram, to +spare shock. And Cilla, my shining-headed chum, you and I are going to +scamper about a bit before we go home. I'd be a miserable defaulter, +indeed, if I did not give you your share of this experience. Oh! I know +you've snatched bits that in no wise were included in the program, but +we're all grafters. I want to play fair. Will you flit over the continent +with me and Mousey, dear little--pal?" + +And three days later they began their trip, while Travers returned to +Helen. It was a charming trip the girls made, but their hearts were +elsewhere. + +In October they were in New York again, and the inevitable happened. +Margaret was returned to her world, and, for the moment, was absorbed. +Priscilla lost sight of her, though she heard constantly from her by +telephone or delicately worded notes. + +A sad occurrence kept Richard Travers abroad. Helen contracted fever and +for weeks lay between life and death. Doctor Ledyard waited until the +danger was past, and then left the two together in Paris, while Helen +recovered, with Travers to watch and care for her. + +The letters that came to Priscilla were all that kept her eyes shining +and her heart singing. + +"I shall go on as usual," she wrote to Richard. "When you come, then +we'll make the wonderful announcement. I see now that we have no right to +our secret alone; but with the ocean between us, it is best." + +During those months Priscilla learned to know Helen Travers through +Travers's letters. Woman-like, she read between the lines and caught a +glimpse of Helen's nobility and simple sweetness. Her loved ones were so +sacred to her that no personal demands could ever cause her to raise +objections. Once she was sure that they she worshipped wanted anything +for their true happiness, her energies were bent to that end. + +"And she will love you, my girl; will learn to depend upon you as I do. +As for Doctor Ledyard, when he is cornered, he is the best soul that ever +drew breath, and mother can bully him into anything." + +It was in February that Priscilla was called up by Doctor Hapgood, a man +of high repute. + +"Are you on duty?" + +"No, sir." + +"Any immediate engagement?" + +"None until March." + +"I would like to have you take a case of mine that requires tact as well +as efficiency. Can you take it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Report then at 60 West Eighty-first Street this afternoon, at four." + +Priscilla found herself promptly at four o'clock in the waiting-room of a +palatial bachelor apartment, and there Doctor Hapgood joined her. + +"Before we go upstairs," he said, drawing his chair close to Priscilla's +and lowering his voice, "I wish to say to you what, doubtless, there is +no real need of saying. I simply emphasize the necessity. The young man +who requires your services is Clyde Huntter. This means nothing to you, +but it does to many others. He is supposed to be in--Bermuda. You +understand?" + +"Yes, Doctor Hapgood." + +"The case is a particularly tragic one, such an one as you may encounter +later on in your career. It demands all your sympathy, encouragement, and +patience. Mr. Huntter is as fine a man, as upright a one, as I know, his +ideals and--and present life are above reproach. He is paying a bitter +debt for youthful and ignorant folly. I believed this impossible, but so +it is. I am thankful to say, however, that he has every reason to hope +that the future, after this, is secure. I have chosen you to care for +him, because I know your ability; have heard of your powers of reticence +and cheerfulness. I depend upon you absolutely." + +"Thank you, Doctor Hapgood." + +Priscilla's face had gone deadly white, but never having heard Huntter's +name before, she was impersonal in her feeling. + +"I will do my best." + +The days following were days of strain and torture to Priscilla. Her +patient was a man who appealed to her strongly, pathetically. There were +hours when his gloom and depression would almost drag her along to the +depths into which he sank; then again he would beg her to pardon him for +his brutal thoughtlessness. + +"Sit there, Miss Glynn," he said one day. "The sunshine is rather +niggardly, but when it rests on your hair--it lasts longer." + +"Oh, my poor hair!" + +"Poor? It looks like a gold mine." Then: "I wish you would read to me. +No; nothing recent or superficial. Something from the old, cast-iron +writers who knew how to use thumb screws and rack. There's something +wholesome in them; something you buck up against. They make you writhe +and groan, but they leave you with the thought that--you've lived through +something." + +Again, another day, after a bad night: + +"I think you'd better go into the next room, Miss Glynn, and take a nap. +I'd feel less brutally selfish if I could see your eyes calmer. Besides, +being shut away here from all I'm dying to have makes an idiot of me. If +you stay any longer, looking at me with those queer eyes of yours, I may +break down and tell you all about it, just for the dangerous joy of +easing my own soul by dumping a load on yours. Good God! Miss Glynn, +such women as you should not be nurses; it isn't fair. I'd give--let me +see--well, I'd give six months of my life--since Hapgood says I stand a +fair chance for ninety years--to talk to you, man to woman, and get your +point of view--about something. There are moments, after a bad night, +when I think you women haven't had all they say you should have had. We +men have been too blindly sure we could play your game as well as our +own. Run now! If you stay another minute I'll regret it, and so will +you." + +"Shall I shake your pillow before I go, Mr. Huntter?" + +"Yes. Thank you. You manage to shake more whim-whams out of the creases +than you know." + +He stayed her by a wistful, longing, and half-boyish smile. + +"Say," he said, "you see you didn't run quick enough, and now I'm going +to ask you something. You must have seen a good deal of women as well +as men in your calling." + +"Yes, I have." + +"Seen them with their masks off?" + +"Yes." + +"What does love count for in the big hours of life? Does it stand +everything, anything?" + +Priscilla felt her throat contract. She longed to say something that +would reach Huntter without arousing his suspicions. + +"No; love--at least, woman's love, doesn't stand everything--always." + +"What doesn't it stand? The essence, I mean." + +"It doesn't stand unfair play! Women understand fair play and for +it would die. They may not say much, but--they never forgive +being--tricked." + +"Oh! of course. How graphic you are, Miss Glynn. You sound as if we +were discussing a game of--of tennis or bridge. Gentlemen do not trick +ladies." He frowned a bit. + +"Don't they, Mr. Huntter?" + +"Certainly not! What I meant was this: You seem, for a trained woman, +very human and--and--well, what shall I say?--observing and rather +a--thoroughbred. If _you_ loved, now, loved really, is there anything you +would not forgive a man? That is, if his love for you was the biggest +thing in his life?" + +Priscilla stood quite still and looked at the pale, handsome face on the +pillow. + +"My love--yes; my love could and would forgive anything, if it related +only to--to--the man I loved and--me!" + +The frown deepened on Huntter's face; he turned uneasily. + +"After all," he muttered, "a man and woman see things so differently. +There is no use!" + +"I wonder--if things would not seem plainer if they saw them--together?" + +But Priscilla saw she had gone too far. The whimsical mood in Huntter had +passed. He was himself again, and she was his nurse--his nurse who knew +too much! More fretfully than he had ever spoken to her, he said: + +"I wish to be alone, Miss Glynn." + +Priscilla passed out, leaving the door between the rooms ajar, and lay +down upon the couch. + +To Doctor Hapgood she was a machine merely; an easy-running one, a +dependable one, but none the less a machine. To Huntter, shut away from +society, gregarious, friendly, and kindly, she had meant much more. Her +recent experience abroad, with all the exquisite touches of human +interest and uplift, had left her peculiarly sensitive to her present +environment. + +She liked the man in the room next her. There was much that was noble and +fine about him, but he was a type that had never entered her life before, +and often, by his kindliest word and gesture, drew her attention to a +yawning space between them. She was at her ease, perfectly so, when near +him, but she knew it was because of the distance that separated them. +Still, she was confronted by a certain grim fact, and that ugly knowledge +held him and her together. By some strange process of reason she wanted +him to live up to the best in him. There were two markedly different +sides of his nature; she trembled before one; before the other she gave +homage as she did to Travers, to John Boswell, and Master Farwell. + +The day before, Huntter had had a long talk with Doctor Hapgood while she +was off duty. That conversation had doubtlessly caused the bad night; she +wondered about it now. It had evidently upset Huntter a good deal. + +Then Priscilla, losing consciousness gradually, thought of Travers, of +Margaret Moffatt, who believed her to be out of the city. She smiled +happily as she relived her blessed memories of good men and women. They +justified and sanctified life, love, and happiness, and they made it +possible for her, poor, struggling, little white nurse as she was, with +all her professional knowledge, to trust and sympathize, and faithfully +serve. + +She must have slept deeply, for it took her a full moment to realize that +some one in the next room was talking and--saying things! + +"No, she's asleep, Huntter. She looks worn out. We must get a night +nurse. Well, I have only this to say: God knows I pity you, but my duty +compels me to say that--you should not marry! The chances are about even; +but--you shouldn't take the risk." + +A groan brought Priscilla to her feet, alert and quivering. Like a sudden +and blinding shock she understood, what seemed to her, a whole life +history. She stumbled to the door and faced Dr. Hapgood, hat in hand, +keen-eyed, but detached. + +"You slept--heavily?" + +"Yes, Doctor Hapgood." + +"I am going to send a night nurse to relieve you. When did you say your +next engagement began?" + +"March fifth." + +"Well, you will need a week to recuperate. Make your plans accordingly. +Do you understand?" + +"Yes." + +Did he suspect? Did he warn her? But his next words were kindness alone. + +"There should have been two nurses all along. One forgets your youth in +your efficiency. Good morning." + +When Priscilla stood beside Huntter again his wan face, close-shut eyes, +and grim mouth almost frightened her. + +"I want to sleep," he said briefly. "Draw down the shades." + +The night nurse became a staple joke between her and Huntter. + +"Lord!" he exclaimed one day as Priscilla entered; "you're like the +morning: clear, fresh, and hopeful. Do you know, that to escape the +nightmare that haunts my chamber after you go, I have to play sleep even +if I'm dying with thirst or blue devils? She's religious! Think of a +nurse with religion that she feels compelled to share with a sick man! +I'm going to get up to-day, Miss Glynn. I've bullied Hapgood into giving +permission, and I've done him one better. I'm going to have a visitor! +I'm back from Bermuda, you know. After you've fixed me up--isn't it a +glorious day?--open the windows, and--I've ordered a lot of flowers. +Put them in those brass bowls. My visitor is a lady. She likes yellow +roses. By the way, Miss Glynn, Doctor Hapgood tells me that you've been +in--Bermuda, too? Thorough old disciplinarian he! You must have been +lonely. And you leave me next week? I want to thank you. I shall thank +you ceremoniously every time you enter after this. You've been--a good +nurse and a--good friend. I couldn't say more, now could I?" + +"No, Mr. Huntter. And you've been--a very brave man! I know you will +always be that, and make light of it. I rather like the half-joking way +you do your kindest things. Here are the flowers! Oh, what beauties!" + +Priscilla turned from helping Huntter and began arranging the glorious +mass of roses in the brass bowls. + +"What time is it, Miss Glynn?" + +"Eleven o'clock." + +"And my friend is due at eleven-thirty. She will be here on the minute. +I feel like a boy, Miss Glynn. One gets the doldrums being alone and +convalescing. How the grim devils catch and hold you while they try to +distort life! I must have been a sad trial to you, but I'm myself again. +Tell me, honest true, Miss Glynn, just how have I come out in your +estimation? A man is no hero to his valet. What is he to his trained +nurse?" + +"You have been very patient and considerate." Priscilla's back was turned +to Huntter; her face was quivering. + +"Negative virtues! Had I been a brute you would have gone. I might have +had the night nurse for twenty-four hours. I dared not run the risk of +letting you go." + +"I've come out pretty well in _your_ estimation? That's a feather in my +nice, white cap," she said. + +"I wonder why I care what you think of me?" + +"I do not know, Mr. Huntter, except that we all care for the good opinion +of those who wish us well." + +"You wish me well?" + +"With all my heart." + +"I'd like"--Huntter turned his face toward the window and the glorious +winter day--"I'd like to be worthy of every well-wisher. I feel quite the +good boy this morning. I've been--well, I've been rather up against it, I +fear, and a trial to you, for all that you say to the contrary; but I am +going to make amends to you--and the world! Now, when my friend comes, +you won't mind if I ask you to leave us alone for a few moments? I can +call you when I need you." + +"Yes, Mr. Huntter." + +"The lady is--you may have guessed--my fiancee. I have important things +to say to her, and----" + +Priscilla's heart beat madly. She felt she was near a deeper tragedy than +any that had ever entered her life. And just then, as the clock struck +the half hour, came a tap on the door: + +"Come!" cried Huntter, in a tone of joy; "Come!" And in burst Margaret +Moffatt! + +She did not notice the rigid figure by the bowl of flowers; her radiant +face was fixed upon Huntter, and she ran toward him with outstretched +arms. + +"My beloved!" she whispered. "Oh! my dear, my dear! How ill you have +been! They did not tell me. I shall never forgive them. When did you +get back from Bermuda?" + +Priscilla slipped from the room and closed the door noiselessly behind +her, but not before she had seen Margaret Moffatt sink into Huntter's +arms; not before she heard the sigh of perfect content that escaped her. + +Alone in the anteroom, the hideous truth flayed Priscilla into suffering +and clear vision. + +"What shall I do?" she moaned, clasping her hands and swaying back and +forth. All the burden and responsibility of the world seemed cast upon +her. Then reason asserted itself. + +"He will tell her! He is telling her now! Killing her love--killing her! +Oh, my God!" + +Then she shrank from the thought that she would, in a few moments, have +to face her friend! How could she, when she remembered that holy night of +confession in the little Swiss village? Again she moaned, "Oh! my God!" +But she was spared that scene. Moments, though they seemed ages, passed, +and then Huntter called: + +"Miss Glynn!" + +She hardly recognized his voice. It was--triumphant, thrilling. It rang +boldly, commandingly. When she entered, Huntter was alone. Gone was the +guest; gone the mass of golden roses. Huntter turned a face glowing and +confident to her. + +"Just because you are you, Miss Glynn, and because I'm the happiest man +in New York, I want you to congratulate me. That was Miss Moffatt. She +and I are to marry--in the spring." + +"Did you--mention my name to her?" + +Priscilla's haggard face at last attracted the man. + +"No. I was inhumanly selfish. You must forgive me. I meant to tell her of +your faithful care; I meant to have you meet her. I forgot." + +"Never mention--me to her! She is my--one friend in all the world; my one +woman friend." + +They faced each other blankly, fiercely. Then: + +"Good Lord, Miss Glynn!" and Huntter--laughed! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +The week of recuperation Doctor Hapgood recommended was one of prolonged +torture to Priscilla Glenn. Thinking of it afterward, she realized that +it was the Gethsemane of her life--the hour when, forsaken by all, she +fought her bitter fight. + +The drift of the ages confronted her. Her own insignificance, her +humbleness, accentuated and betrayed her. Who would listen? How dared she +speak! Who would heed her? + +One, and one only. Margaret Moffatt! + +From her Priscilla shrank and hid until she could gain courage to go +and--by saving her, kill her! Yes, it meant that. The killing of the +beautiful All Woman, as Travers had called her. After the telling there +would be only the shadow of the splendid creature that God had meant to +be so happy, if only the wrong of the world had not come between! + +There were moments when, worn by struggle and wakeful nights, Priscilla +felt incapable of sane thought. + +Why should she interfere, she asked herself. Professional silence was her +only course. And--there was the chance--the chance! Against it stood, +pleading, Margaret's radiant love and Huntter's strength and devotion. + +Who could blame her if she--forgot? But oh! how they would curse her if +she spoke! They might not believe; they might ruin her! + +Then faith laid its commanding touch upon her spirit. It had been given +her to know a woman who, for high principles and all the sacred future, +was prepared to sacrifice her love if needs must be! + +They two, Margaret of the high-soul, and she, Priscilla Glenn of the +understanding devotion, seemed to stand apart and alone, each, in her +way, called upon to testify and act. + +"It must be done!" moaned Priscilla; "she must know and--decide! But how? +how?" + +John Boswell and Master Farwell were gone to the In-Place. The sanctuary +overlooking the river was closed. There was no one, no place, to which +Priscilla could go for comfort and advice, and her secret and her duty +left her no peace or rest. + +She had taken a tiny suite in a family hotel. The rooms had the comfort +needed for her physical wants, but she tossed on the bed nights and slept +brokenly. She ate poorly and grew very thin, very pale. She walked, days, +until her body cried out for mercy. She cancelled her engagement, for she +was unfitted for service, and intuitively she knew that, for her, a great +change was near. + +When she was weak from weariness and lonely to the verge of exhaustion, +she thought of Kenmore--not Travers--with positive yearning. The woman +of her, madly defending, or about to defend, woman, excluded even her own +love and her own man. It was sex against sex; the world's injustice +against all that woman held sacred! If Margaret were to be sacrificed, so +was she, for she blindly felt that Travers would not uphold her! How +could he when tradition held him captive? How could he when his oath +bound him like a slave? Doctor Hapgood had done his part, had spoken his +word--to man! But that was not enough. Man had flaunted it, was willing +to take--the chance without giving the woman intelligent choice. Oh! it +was cruel, it was unjust, and it must be defied. She and Margaret must +stand side by side, or life never again would taste sweet and pure! + +Priscilla had not heard from Travers in ten days, and this added to her +sense of desolation. Then, one evening, coming in from a long tramp in +the park, snow covered and bedraggled, she faced him in her own little +parlour! + +"My blessed child!" cried he, rushing toward her. "What have you been +doing to yourself?" + +She was in his arms; his hands were taking off her snow-wet coat and hat. +He was whispering to her his love and gladness while he placed her in a +chair and lighted the tiny gas log in the grate. + +"It's a wicked shame!" he said laughingly; "but it will have to do. Now +then, confess!" + +"Oh! I have longed so for you! I have been--mad!" + +Priscilla tried to smile, but collapsed miserably. + +"I don't believe you have eaten a morsel since----" Travers glared at her +ferociously. + +"Since I--I was in Switzerland." The sob aroused Travers to the girl's +condition. + +"You poor little tyke!" he said. "Now lean back and do as you're told. +I'm going to ring for food. Just plain, homely food. I'm as hungry as a +bear myself. I came to you from the vessel. I sent mother home in a cab. +I had to see you. We'll eat--play; and then, my precious one, we'll talk +business." + +"How I have wanted you! needed you!" Again the pitiful wail. + +"Now behave, child! When the waiter comes we must be as staid as Darby +and Joan. You poor little girl! Heavens! how big your eyes are, and how +frightened! Come in! Yes. This is the order; serve it here." + +The waiter took the order wrapped in a good-sized bill, and departed on +willing feet. + +"Your hair is about all that's familiar; longing for me couldn't take the +shine from that!" Travers kissed it. + +"I see my next case," he laughed. "To get you in shape will be quite an +achievement. We both need--play. We thrive on that." + +"Yes, my dear, my dear; but I have forgotten how!" + +"Nonsense! Here's the food. Put the table near the grate"--this to the +man--"things smoking hot; that's good. The wine, please. Thanks! Miss +Glynn, to your health!" + +How Travers managed it no one could tell, but his own unfettered joy +drove doubt and care from the little room. Priscilla, warmed and +comforted, laughed and responded, and the meal was a merry one. But it +was over at last, and the grim spectre stalked once more. Travers noticed +the haunted look in the eyes following his every movement, and took +warning. Something was seriously wrong, that was evident; but he had +boundless faith in his love and power to drive the cloud away. After the +room was cleared of dishes and the grateful waiter, Travers attacked the +shadow at once. + +He drew a stool to Priscilla's chair and flung his long body beside her. + +"Now," he said, with wonderful tenderness, "let me begin my life work at +once, my darling. You are troubled; I am here to bear it all--for you!" + +"Oh! Will you bear--half, dear heart?" + +"Yes, and that is better. We need not waste words, my tired little girl. +Out with the worst and then--you and I are going to--my mother!" + +"Your--mother?" + +"My mother! God bless her! You know she came near slipping away. She will +need and love you more than ever." + +"Oh! how good it sounds! Mother! Oh, my love, my love! I've had so little +and I've wanted so much! Your mother!" + +"She'll be yours, too, Priscilla. But hurry, child! Just the bare +structure; my love will fill in the rest." + +"Do not look up at me, dear man! So, let me rest my face on your head. +Can you hear me--if I whisper?" + +"Yes." + +"It's about Margaret--Margaret Moffatt." + +"The All Woman, the happiest creature, next to what you're going to be, +in all God's world?" + +"No!" + +"No? Priscilla, what do you mean?" + +"Do not move. Please do not look up. She is--engaged to--to Clyde +Huntter!" + +"Well?" + +"I did not know; she never mentioned his name. While we played, names did +not matter--his, mine, no one's." An hysterical gasp caused Travers to +start. + +"No, please keep your face turned. I must tell you in my way. I have just +taken care of--Mr. Huntter. He is not--fit to marry any woman--he cannot +marry--Margaret! Doctor Hapgood told him, but--he--means to marry! She +came to see him; she did not see me; she does not know; but she _must_ +know!" fiercely; "she must know! That is the one thing above all else +that would matter to her; she told me so! She does not live for the--the +now; she was made for--for bigger things!" + +"My God!" Travers was on his feet, and he dragged Priscilla with him. He +held her close by her wrists and searched her white, agonized face. Truth +and stern purpose were blazoned on it. She had never looked so beautiful, +so noble, or so--menacing. + +"You heard Doctor Hapgood say that?" + +"I did." + +"In your presence?" + +"No." Then she described the little scene graphically. + +"But Ledyard----" Then he paused. Ledyard's confidence must be sacred to +him. + +"And Huntter--Huntter knows that you know; does he know that you are +Margaret's friend?" + +"Yes." + +"And--he trusts you?" + +"He thinks I do not count, but I do--with Margaret." + +"Priscilla, this is no work for you, poor child!" + +"It is--hers--and mine, and God's!" determinedly. + +"Darling, you are overwrought. You must trust me. You know what I think +of such things; you can safely leave this to me. Ledyard is Huntter's +physician. Why he called Hapgood in, I do not know. I will go to Ledyard. +Can you not see--that they would not believe--you?" + +"Margaret will!" + +"But her father! You do not understand, my precious. You dear, little, +unworldly soul! Margaret Moffatt's marriage means a ninth wonder. Any +meddling with that would have to be sifted to the dregs. And when they +reached you, my own girl, they would grind you to atoms!" + +"Not--Margaret!" + +Priscilla drew herself away from the straining hands. She was quite calm +now and terribly earnest. + +"When all's told, it is Margaret and I--and God!" + +"No. There are others, and other things. All the world's forces are +against you." + +"No, they are not! They are turning with me. I feel them; I feel them. +I am not afraid." Then she took command, while Travers stood amazed. She +put her hands on his shoulders and held him so before the bar of her +crude, woman-judgment. + +"Answer me, my beloved! You believe--what I have told you?" + +"I do." + +"You know Doctor Hapgood will do no more?" + +"He--cannot." + +"If you go to Doctor Ledyard--and he knows and believes--what will he +do?" + +"He has been Huntter's physician for years. If he has been mistaken, he +will go to Huntter." + +"Go to--Huntter! And what then? Suppose Mr. Huntter--still takes the +chance?" + +"Ledyard will--he will forbid it!" + +"And what good will that do?" A pitiful bitterness crept into Priscilla's +voice; her lips quivered. + +"It is all Huntter! Huntter! All men! men! and there stands my +dear--alone! No one goes to her to let--_her_ choose; no one but me! +Don't you see what I mean? Oh! my love, my love! My good, good man, can +you leave her there in ignorance, all of you? Through the ages she has +not had her say--about the chance, and that is why----" + +Priscilla paused, choked by rising passion. + +"Little girl, listen! What do you mean?" Travers was genuinely alarmed +and anxious. + +"I mean"--the white, set face looked like an avenger's, not a +passionately loving woman's--"I mean--that because women have never had +an opportunity to know and to choose, you and I, and all people like us, +stand helpless with our own great heaven-sent love at peril!" + +"At peril! Oh, my dear girl!" + +"Yes, at peril. We do not know what to do, where to turn. You see the +great injustice clearly as I do; but you--all men have tried to right it +by themselves, in their way, while all women, through all the ages, have +stood aside and tried to think they were doing God's will when they +accepted--your best; your _half_ best! Now, oh! now something--I think it +is God calling loud to them--is waking them up. They know--you cannot do +this thing alone; it is their duty, too--they must help you, for, +oh!"--Priscilla leaned toward him with tear-blinded eyes and pleading +hands--"For the sake of the--the little children of the world. Oh! men +are fathers, good fathers, but they have forgotten the part mothers must +take! We women cannot leave it all to you. It is wicked, wicked for women +to try! There is something mightier than our love--we are learning that!" + +Travers took her in his arms. She was weeping miserably. His heart +yearned over her, for he feared she was feeling, as women sometimes did, +the awful weight of injustice men had unconsciously, often in deepest +love, laid upon them. + +"Priscilla, you trust me; trust my love?" + +"Yes." + +"You believe me when I say that I see this--as you do--but that we only +differ as to methods?" + +"I--I hope I see that and believe it." + +"Then"--and here Travers did his poor, blind part to lay another straw +upon the drift of burden--"leave this--to me. I know better than you do +the end of any such mad course as you, in your affection and sense of +wrong, might take. Little girl, let me try to show you. Suppose you went +to Margaret Moffatt. You know her proud, sensitive nature; her loyalty +and absolute frankness. After the shock and torture she would go to her +father with the truth--for she would believe you--and announce her +unwillingness--I am sure, even though her heart broke, she would do +this--to marry Huntter. Then the matter would lie among men; men with the +traditional viewpoint; men with much, much at stake. If Huntter has, as +you say, taken the chance, in his love for Margaret--and he does love +her, poor devil!--he will defend himself and his position." + +"How?" Priscilla was regaining her calm; she raised her head and faced +Travers from the circle of his arms. + +"He will--send Moffatt to--to--Hapgood." + +"And he--what will he do?" + +"What does the priest do when the secrets of the confessional are +attacked?" + +"Yes, yes--but then?" + +"Then--oh! my precious girl! Can you not see? You will come into focus. +You, my love, my wife, but, nevertheless, a woman! a trained nurse! +Hapgood would flay you alive, not because he has anything against you, +but professional honour and discipline would be at stake. Between such a +man as Hapgood and--Priscilla Glynn--oh! can you not see my dear, dear +girl?" + +"Yes, I begin to see. And--I see I dare not trust even you!" The hard +note in Priscilla's voice hurt Travers cruelly. "And--you, you and Doctor +Ledyard--how would you stand?" she asked faintly. + +Travers held her at arm's length, and his face turned ashen gray. + +"Besides being men, we, too, are physicians!" he said. "Brutal as this +sounds, it is truth!" + +The light burned dangerously in Priscilla's eyes. + +"When you are physicians--you are _not_ men!" she panted, and suddenly, +by a sharp stab of memory, Ledyard's words, back in the boyhood days at +Kenmore, stung Travers. They were like an echo in his brain. + +"You--you of all women, cannot say that and mean it, my darling!" he +cried, and tried to draw her to him. She resisted. + +"Our love, the one sacred thing of our very own," he pleaded, "is in +peril." He saw it now. "Can you not see? Even if it is woman against +woman, what right have you, Priscilla, to cloud and hurt our love?" + +"It is not--woman against woman--any more." The words came sweetly, +almost joyously; something like renunciation tinged them. "It is woman +_for_ woman until men will take us by the hands, trustingly, faithfully, +and work with us for what belongs equally to us both!" + +The radiance of the uplifted eyes frightened Travers. So might she look, +he thought, had she passed through death and come out victorious. + +"Now, just for a time," the tense, thrilling voice went on, "she and +I--women--must stand alone, and do our best as we see it. It is no good +leaving it to--to any man. I see that! And our love, yours and mine! Oh! +dear man of my heart, that can never die or be hurt. It is yours, mine! +God gave it. God will not take it away. God will not take Margaret's +either. She will understand, and, even alone, far, far from _her_ love, +she will be true, as I will be. That is what it means to us!" Then she +paused and smiled at Travers as across a widening chasm. + +"I--am going now!" + +"Going? My beloved--going--where?" + +"To Margaret." + +"You--dare not! You shall not! You are--mad!" + +"No. I am--going, because, as things are, I cannot--trust you, even you! +That is our penalty for the world's wrong. Long, long ago some one--oh! +it was back in the days when I did not know what life meant--some one +told me--never to let any one kill my ideal! No one ever has! It goes on +before, leading and beckoning. I must follow. I do not know where he is, +he who told me, but I know, as sure as I know that I shall always love +you, that he is following _his_ ideal, and living true and sure. Good +night." + +Unable to think or act, Travers saw Priscilla take up her still damp coat +and hat. Like a man in a nightmare he saw her turn a deadly white face +upon him, and then the door closed and he was alone in her little room! + +He looked about, dazed and emotionless. He felt _her_ in every touch +of the lonely place; her books, her little pictures, herself! Some women +are like that: they leave themselves in the presence of them they +love--forever! + +"Kill her ideal!" The words rang in the empty corners of his heart and +mind. "Somewhere he is following his ideal, and living true and sure!" + +Unconsciously, as men do in an hour of stress, Travers turned to action. +Presently he found himself setting the tiny room in order as one does +after a dear one has departed, or a spirit taken its flight. And while he +moved about his reason was slowly readjusting itself, and he felt +poignantly his impotency, his inability to use even his love for +dominance. Being a just and honest man, he could not deny what Priscilla +had said; truth rang in every sentence, chimed in with the minor notes of +his life. No thought of following or staying her entered his mind; she +had set about her business, woman's business, and, to the man's excited +fancy, he seemed to see her pressing forward to the doing of that to +which her soul called her. Then it was her beautiful shining hair he +remembered, and his passion cried out for its own. + +"This comes," he fiercely cried, setting his teeth hard, "of our leaving +them behind--our women! Through the ages their place has been beside us +as we fought every foe of the race. We set them aside in our folly, and +now"--he bowed his head upon his folded arms--"and now they are waking up +and demanding only what is theirs!" + +A specimen of the new man was Travers, but inheritance, and Ledyard's +teaching, had left their seal upon him. Bowed in Priscilla's little room +he tried to see his way, but for a time he reasoned with Ledyard's words +ringing in his ears. Had he not gone over this with his friend and +partner many a time? + +"Yes, I know the cursed evil, know its power and danger! Yes, it +threatens--the race, but it has its roots in the ages; it must be +tackled cautiously. If we take the stand you suggest"--for Travers had +put forth his violent, new opposition--"what will happen? The quacks and +money-making sharks will get the upper hand. Do you think men would come +to us if exposure faced them? It's the devil, my boy; but of the two +evils this, God knows, is the least. We must do what we can; work for +a scientific and moral redemption, but never play the game like +fools."--"But the women," Travers had put in feverishly, "the +women!"--"Spare me, boy! The women have clutched the heart of me--always. +The women and the--the babies. I've used them to flay many men into +remorse and better living. I am thinking of them, as God hears me, when I +take the course I do!" + +And so Travers suffered and groaned in the small, deserted room. + +Above and beyond Ledyard's reasoning stood two desolate figures. They +seemed to represent all women: his Priscilla and Margaret Moffatt! One, +the crude child of nature with her gleam undimmed, leading her forth +unhampered, though love and suffering blocked her way; the other, the +daughter of ages of refinement and culture, who had heard the call of the +future in her big woman-heart and could leave all else for the sake of +the crown she might never wear, but which, with God's help, she would +never defile. + +On, on, they two went before Travers's aching eyes. The way before them +was shining, or was it the light of Priscilla's hair? They were leaving +him, all men, in the dark! It was to seek the light, or----And then +Travers got up and left the room with bowed head, like one turning his +back upon the dead. + +He went to Ledyard at once, and found that cheerful gentleman awaiting +him. + +"At last!" he cried. "Helen telephoned at seven. She thought you were on +your way here. Did you get lost?" + +"Yes." + +"What's the matter, Dick? You look as if you had seen a ghost." + +"I have. An army of them." + +"Are you--ill?" + +"No." + +"Sit down, boy. Here, take a swallow of wine. You're used up. Now then!" + +"Doctor Ledyard, you were wrong--about Huntter! You remember what you +told me, before Margaret Moffatt announced her engagement?" + +"Yes." Ledyard poured himself a glass of wine and walked to his chair +across the room. + +"You were wrong; he is not what you think." + +"What do you mean? I haven't seen Huntter for--for a year or more. I took +care, sacred care, though, to--to trace him from the time he first came +to me, more than ten years ago. No straighter, more honourable man +breathes than he. He was one of the victims of ignorance and crooked +reasoning, but, thank God! he was spared the worst." + +"He was--not." + +"Dick, in God's name, what do you mean?" + +"Hapgood was called in. Huntter has not been in Bermuda; he has been +right here in New York, under Hapgood's care." + +"And Hapgood--told you?" + +A purplish flush dyed Ledyard's face. + +"No." + +"Who, then? No sidetracking, Dick. Who?" + +"The--the nurse." + +"She-devil! Fell in love with her patient? I've struck that kind----" + +"Stop!" + +Both men were on their feet and glaring at each other. + +"You are speaking of my future--wife!" + +Ledyard loosened his collar and--laughed! + +"You're mad!" he said faintly, "or a damned fool!" + +"I'm neither. I am engaged to marry Priscilla Glynn; have been since the +summer. I meant to tell you and mother to-night. I went to her from the +vessel. Priscilla Glynn took care of Huntter without knowing of his +connection in the Moffatt affair. Above all else in the world"--Travers's +voice shook--"she adores Margaret Moffatt, knows her intimately, and +wishes, blindly, to serve her as she understands her. There are such +women, you know, and they are becoming more numerous. She has gone +to--tell Margaret Moffatt." + +"Gone?" Ledyard reeled back a step. "And you permitted that?" + +"I had no choice. You do not know--my--my--well, Miss Glynn." + +"Not know her? The young fiend! Not know her? I remember her well. I +might have known that no good could come from her. But--we can crush her, +the young idiot! I do not envy you your fiancee, Dick." + +The telephone rang sharply and Ledyard took up the receiver with +trembling hand. + +"It's your mother," he said; "you had better speak for yourself." + +"So you are there, Dick?" + +"Yes, mother." + +"There was a message just now. Such a peculiar one. I thought you had +better have it at once. It was only this: 'She knows' and a 'good-bye.'" + +"Thanks, mother. I understand." + +Ledyard watched the unflinching face and noted the even voice. He was so +near he had caught Helen's words. + +"And that is all, mother?" + +"All, dear." + +"I'll be home soon. Good night." + +Then he looked up at Ledyard, and the older man's face softened. + +"You'll find this sort of thing is a devil of a jigsaw. It cuts in all +directions," he said, laying his hand on Travers's shoulder. + +"Yes, doesn't it? But, Doctor Ledyard, I want to tell you something. +She's right--that girl of mine, and Margaret Moffatt, too--and you know +it as well as I do! If I can, I'm going to have my love and my woman; but +even if I go empty hearted to my grave I shall know--they are right! +Besides being women, and our loves, they are human beings, and they are +beginning to find it out. The way may lead through hell, but it ends +in----" + +"What?" Ledyard breathed; his eyes fixed on the stern young face. + +"In understanding. It leads to the responsibility all women must take. +Good night, old friend." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Priscilla had gone straight from Margaret Moffatt's to her own little +apartment. She had no sense of suffering; no sensation at all. She must +pack and get away! And like a dead thing she set to work, although it was +midnight and she had been so weary before; and then she smiled +quiveringly: + +"Before!" + +She stood and stretched out her arms to the empty space where Travers had +been. + +"Oh! my dear, dear man!" she moaned. "My beloved!" + +She had set the spark to the powder; by to-morrow the devastation would +be complete. That, she knew full well. And he--the man she loved above +all else in life--in order to escape must seek safety with those others! +All those others--men! men! men! Only she and Margaret, suffering and +alone, would stand in the ruins. But from those ruins! Her eyes shone as +with a vision of what must be. + +"I wish I could tell you--all about it!" the weak, human need called to +the absent love. The whispered words brought comfort; even his memory was +a stronghold. It always would be, even when she was far away in her +In-Place, never to see him again. + +How thankful she was that he did not know, really. He could not follow; +she would not be able to hurt him--after to-morrow. Her changed name +had saved her! + +"Priscilla Glynn," she faltered, "hide her, hide her forever, hide poor +Priscilla Glenn." + +Then her thoughts flew back to the recent past. She had found Margaret +alone in her own library. + +"Now how did you know I wanted you more than any one else in the world?" +Margaret had said. "When did you get back? You baddest of the bad! Why +did you hide from me? Where were you?" + +"In--Bermuda." How ghastly it sounded, but it caught Margaret's quick +thought. + +"Sit down, you little ghost of bygone days of bliss. You'll have to play +again. Work is killing you. In Bermuda? What doing?" + +"Wearing--my cap and apron, dear, dear----" + +"Your cap and apron? I thought you burned them! I shall tell Travers, you +deceitful, money-getting little fraud! Well, who has taken it out of you +so? You are as white as ivory. Do you know the Traverses came in on the +_St. Cloud_ to-day?" + +"Yes. Doctor Travers came to see me." + +"Ha! ha! He doesn't seem to have cheered you much. I wager he's told you +what he thinks of you, tossing to the winds all the beautiful health and +spirits of the summer! When are you to be married? I must tell him to +bully you as--as my dear love is bullying me! Has Doctor Ledyard growled +at you? I can twist him easily! He is a darling, and just wears that face +and voice for fun in order to scare little redheaded nurses. Cilla, dear +heart, I'm going to be married in June! Dear, old-fashioned June, with +roses and good luck and--oh! the heaven seems opening and the glory is +pouring down! There, girlie! cuddle here! I'm going to tell you +everything; even to the mentioning of names! I've always hated to label +my joy before. But, first, take some chocolate; it's hot and piping. Now! +Who did you nurse in Bermuda? I'm going to tell him, or her, what I think +of him!" + +"I--nursed--Mr. Clyde Huntter. We were in New York all the time. That is +why--I had to keep--still----" + +"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" Margaret set the cup she held, down sharply. The +quick brain was alert and in action. + +"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" And then Margaret Moffatt came close to Priscilla, +and looked down deep into the unfaltering eyes raised to hers. + +"Mr. Clyde Huntter--is the man I am to marry!" she said in a voice from +which the girlish banter had gone forever. It was the voice of a woman in +arms to defend all she worshipped. + +"Yes, I know. I was in his room the day you called. I thought I should +die. I hoped he would tell you. I was ready to stand beside you; but he +did not tell!" + +"Tell--what? As God hears you, Priscilla, as you love me, and--and as I +trust you, tell me what?" + +And then Priscilla had told her. At first Margaret stood, taking the +deadly blow like a Spartan woman, her grave eyes fixed upon Priscilla. +Slowly the cruel truth, and all it implied, found its way through the +armour of her nobility and faith. She began to droop; then, like one +whose strength has departed, she dropped beside Priscilla's chair and +clung to her. It had not taken long to tell, but it had lain low every +beautiful thing but--courage! + +"Back there," Margaret had said at last, "back there where we played, I +told you I was ready for sacrifice. I thought my God was not going to +exact that, but since he has, I am ready. Priscilla, I still have God! I +wonder"--and, oh! how the weak, pain-filled voice had wrung Priscilla's +heart--"I wonder if you can understand when I tell you that I love my +love better now--than ever? Shall always love him, my poor boy! Can you +not see that he did not mean--to be evil? It was the curse handed down to +him, and when he found out--his love, our love, had taken possession of +him, and he could not let me--go! I feel as if--as if I were his mother! +He cannot have the thing he would die for, but I shall love him to the +end of life. I shall try to make it up to him--in some way; help him to +be willing and brave, to do the right; teach him that my way is the +only--honourable way. I am sure both he and I will be--glad not--not to +let others, oh! such sad, little others, pay the debt for us. Our day +is--is short at best, but the--the eternity! And you, dear, faithful +Cilla! You, with your blessed love, how will it be when I have done what +I must do? I must go to--to father and tell the truth, and then----" + +"I know," Priscilla had said. "Doctor Travers told me what would follow. +I shall not be here for him to suffer for; I am going----" + +"Where, my precious friend?" + +"To--the Place Beyond the Winds! You do not understand. You cannot; no +one can follow me; but I cannot bear the hurting blasts any more. I want +the In-Place." + +Then it was over, and now she was back in her lonely rooms. She packed +her few, dear possessions, and toward morning lay down upon her bed. At +daylight she departed, after settling her affairs with the night clerk +and leaving no directions that any one could follow. + +"It is business," she had cautioned, and the sleepy fellow nodded his +head. + +The rest did not matter. She would travel to the port from which the +boats sailed to Kenmore. Any boat would do; any time. Some morning, +perhaps, at four o'clock, if the passage had not been too rough, she +would find herself on the shabby little wharf with the pink morning light +about her, and the red-rock road stretching on before. + +Then Priscilla, like a miser, gripped her purse. Never before had money +held any power over her, but the hundreds she had saved were precious to +her now. Her father's doors were still, undoubtedly, closed to her. She +could not be a burden to the two men living in Master Farwell's small +home. There was, to be sure, Mary McAdam! By and by, perhaps, when the +hurt was less and she could trust herself more, she would go to the White +Fish Lodge and beg for employment; but until then---- + +The morning Priscilla departed, Ledyard, unequal to any further strain, +was called upon to bear several. By his plate, at the breakfast table, +lay a scrawled envelope that he recognized at once as a report from +Tough Pine. + +"What's up now?" muttered he. "This thing isn't due for--three weeks +yet." + +Then he read, laboriously, the crooked lines: + + I give up job. Dirty work. Money--bad money. I take no more--or I be + damned! He better man--than you was; you bad and evil, for fun--he grow + big and white. No work for bad man--friend now to good mens. + + Pine. + +"The devil!" muttered Ledyard; but oddly enough the letter raised, rather +than lowered, his mental temperature. Those ill-looking epistles of +Pine's had nauseated him lately. He had begun to experience the sensation +of over-indulgence. Some one had told him, a time back, of Boswell's +leaving the city, and he had been glad of the suspicion that arose in him +when he heard it. + +Later in the day the forces Priscilla had set in motion touched and drew +him into the maelstrom. + +"Ledyard"--this over the telephone--"my daughter has just informed me +that she is about to break her engagement. May I see you at--three?" + +"Yes. Here, or at your office?" + +"I will come to you." + +They had it out, man to man, and with all the time-honoured and hoary +arguments. + +"My girl's a fool!" Moffatt panted, red-faced and eloquent. "Not to +mention what this really means to all of us, there is the girl's own +happiness at stake. What are we to tell the world? You cannot go about +and--explain! Good Lord! Ledyard, Huntter stands so high in public esteem +that to start such a story as this about him would be to ruin my own +reputation." + +"No. The thing's got to die," Ledyard mused. "Die at its birth." + +"Die in my girl's heart! Good God! Ledyard, you ought to see her after +the one night! It wrings my heart. It isn't as if the slander had killed +her love for him. It hasn't; it has strengthened it. 'I must bear this +for him and for me,' she said, looking at me with her mother's eyes. She +never looked like her mother before. It's broken me up. What's the world +coming to, when women get the bit in their teeth?" + +"There are times when all women look alike," Ledyard spoke half to +himself; "I've noticed that." The rest of Moffatt's sentence he ignored. + +"Why, in the name of all that is good," Moffatt blazed away, "did you +send that redheaded girl into our lives? I might have known from the hour +she set her will against mine that she was no good omen. Things I haven't +crushed, Ledyard, have always ended by giving me a blow, sooner or later. +Think of her coming into my home last night and daring----" The words +ended in a gulp. "Let me send Margaret to you," pleaded the father at his +wits' end. "Huntter is away. Will not be back until to-morrow. Perhaps +you can move her. You brought her into the world; you ought to try and +keep her here." + +At four Margaret entered Ledyard's office. She was very white, very +self-possessed, but gently smiling. + +"Dear old friend," she said, drawing near him and taking the role of +comforter at once. "Do not think I blame you. I know you did your best +with your blessed, nigh-to glasses on, but we younger folks have long +vision, you know. Do you remember how you once told me to swallow your +pills without biting them? I obeyed you for a long, long time; but I've +bitten this one! It's bitter, but it is for the best. The medicine is in +the pills; we might as well know." + +"See here, Margaret, I'm not going to use your father's weapons. I only +ask you--to wait! Do not break your engagement; let me see Huntter. Do +not speak to him of this. I can explain, and--" he paused--"if the worse +comes to the worst, the wedding can be postponed; then things can happen +gradually." + +"No," Margaret shook her head. "This is his affair and mine, and our love +lies between us. I want--oh! I want to make him feel as I do, if I can; +but above all else he must know that whatever I do is done in love. You +see, I cannot hate him now; by and by it would be different if we were +not just to each other." + +"My poor girl! Do you women think you are going to be happier, the world +better, because of--things like this? Men have thought it out!" + +"Alone, yes. And women have let you bear the burden--alone. Happiness +is--not all. And who can tell what the world will be when we all do the +work God sent us to do? I know this: we cannot push our responsibilities +off on any one else without stumbling across them sooner or later, for +the overburdened ones cannot carry too much, or forever!" + +Ledyard expected Travers for dinner, but, as the time drew near, he felt +that his young partner would not come. At six a note was handed to him: + + Kindest of Friends: + + To-morrow, or soon, I will come to you; not to-night. I have to be + alone. I am all in confusion. I can see only step by step, and must + follow as I may. Two or three things stand out clear. We haven't, we + men, played the game fair, though God knows we meant to. They--she + and such women as my girl--are right! Blindly, fumblingly right. They + are seeking to square themselves, and we have no business to curse them + for their efforts. + + Lastly, I love Priscilla Glynn, and mean to have her, even at the + expense of my profession! You have set my feet on a broad path and + promised an honourable position. I have always felt that to try and + follow in your steps was the noblest ambition I had. I know now that I + could not accomplish this. You have truth and conviction to guide and + uphold you. I have doubt. I must work among my fellows with no hint of + distrust as to my own position. Forgive me! Go, if you will, to my + mother--to Helen. She will need you--after she knows. You will, + perhaps, understand when I tell you that, for a time at least, I must + be by myself, and I am going to the little town where my own mother and + I, long ago, lived our strange life together. She seems to be there, + waiting for me. + +Ledyard ate no dinner that night; he seemed broken and ill; he pushed +dish after dish aside, and finally left the table and the house. + +Everything had failed him. All his life's work and hopes rustled past him +like dead things as he walked the empty streets. + +"Truth and conviction," he muttered. "Who has them? The young ass! What +is truth? How can one be convinced? It's all bluff and a doing of one's +best!" + +And then he reached Helen Travers's house and found her waiting for him. + +"I have a--a note from Dick," she said. Ledyard saw that she had been +crying. + +"Poor boy! He has gone to--his mother; his real mother. We"--she caught +her breath--"we have, somehow, failed him. He is in trouble." + +"I wonder--why?" Ledyard murmured. Never had his voice held that tone +before. It startled even the sad woman. + +"We have tried to do right--have loved him so," she faltered. + +"Perhaps we have been too sure of ourselves, our traditions. Each +generation has its own ideals. We're only stepping-stones, but we like +to believe we're the--end-all!" + +"That may be." + +Then they sat with bowed heads in silence, until Ledyard spoke again. + +"I'm going to retire, Helen. Without him, work would be--impossible. +His empty place would be a silent condemnation, a constant reminder, +of--mistakes." + +"If he leaves me, I shall close this house. I could not live--without him +here. I never envied his mother before. I have pitied, condoned her, but +to-night I envy her from my soul!" + +"Helen"--and here Ledyard got up and walked the length of the room +restlessly; he was about to put his last hope to the test--"Helen, this +world is--too new for us; for you and me. We belong back where the light +is not so strong and things go slower! We get--blinded and breathless and +confused. I have nothing left, nor have you. Will you come with me to +that crack in the Alps, as Dick used to call it, and let me--love you?" + +"Oh! John Ledyard! What a man you are!" + +"Exactly! _What_ a man I am! A poor, rough fool, always loving what was +best; never daring to risk anything for it. I'm tired to death----" + +She was beside him, kneeling, with her snow-touched head upon his knee. + +"So am I. Tired, tired! I could not do without you. I have leaned on you +far too long; we all have. Now, dear, lean on me for the rest of the +way." + +He bent his grizzled head upon hers and his eyes had the look of prayer +that Priscilla once discovered. + +"Dick--has not told me his real trouble," Helen faintly said. "I know it +is somehow connected with a--nurse." + +"The redheaded one," Ledyard put in; "a regular little marplot!" Then he +gave that gruff laugh of his that Helen knew to be a signal of surrender. + +"It's odd," he went on, "how one can admire and respect when often he +disapproves. I disapprove of this--redheaded girl, but, if it will +comfort you any, my child, I will tell you this: Dick's future, in her +hands, would be founded on--on everlasting rock!" + +"Perhaps--she won't have him!" + +"Helen"--and Ledyard caught her to him--"you never would have said that +if you had been Dick's mother!" + +"Perhaps--not!" + +"No. You and I have only played second fiddles, first and last; but +second fiddles come in handy!" + +The room grew dim and shadowy, and the two in the western window clung +together. + +"Have you heard--John, that Margaret Moffatt has broken her engagement to +Clyde Huntter?" + +"Yes. Where did you hear it?" + +"She came--to see me; wanted to know how I was. She was very beautiful +and dear. She talked a good deal about that--that----" + +"Redheaded nurse?" asked Ledyard. + +"Yes. I couldn't quite see any connecting link then, but you know Dick +did go to that Swiss village last summer. I fear the party wasn't +properly chaperoned, for 'twas there he met--the nurse!" + +"It--was!" grunted Ledyard. + +"There is something sadly wrong with this broken engagement of +Margaret's, but I imagine no one will ever know. Girls are so--so +different from what they used to be." + +"Yes," but a tone of doubt was in Ledyard's voice. Presently he said: +"Since Dick has left, or may leave, the profession, I suppose he'll take +to writing. He's always told me that when he could afford to, he'd like +to cut the traces and wollop the race with his pen. Many doctors would +like to do that. A gag and a chain and ball are not what they're cracked +up to be. The pen is mightier than the pill, sometimes, but it often +eliminates the butter from the bread." + +Helen caught at the only part of this speech that she understood. + +"There's the little income I'm living on," she said; "it's Dick's +father's. I wish--you'd let me give it to him--now. I am old-fashioned +enough to want to live on my husband's money." + +"Exactly!" Ledyard drew her closer; "quite the proper feeling. It can be +easily arranged." + +And while they sat in the gathering gloom, Travers was wending his way up +a village street, and wondering that he found things so little changed. + +While his heart grew heavier, his steps hastened, and he felt like a +small boy again--a boy afraid of the dark, afraid of the mystery of +night--alone! The boy of the past had always known a heavy heart, too, +and that added reality to the touch. + +There stood the old cottage with a sign "To Let" swinging from the porch. +Had no one lived there since they, he and the pretty creature he called +mother, had gone away? + +There had been workmen in the house, evidently. They had carelessly left +the outer door open and a box of tools in the living-room. Travers went +in and sat down upon the chest, closed his eyes, and gave himself up to +his sad mood. Clearly he seemed to hear the low, sweet voice: + +"Little son, is that you?" Yes, it was surely he! "Come home to--to +mother? Tired, dear?" Indeed he was tired--tired to the verge of +exhaustion. "Suppose--suppose we have a story? Come, little son! It shall +be a story of a fine, golden-haired princess who loves and loves, but--is +very, very wise. And you are to be the prince who is wise, too. If you +are not both very wise there will be trouble; and of course princesses +and princes do not have trouble." The old, foolish memory ran on with its +deeper truth breaking in upon the heart and soul of the man in the +haunted room. + +Then Travers spoke aloud: + +"Mother, I will make no mistake if I can help it, and as God hears me, +I will not cheat love. As far as lies in me, I will play fair for her +sake--and yours!" + +When he uncovered his eyes he almost expected to see a creaky little +rocker and a sleepy boy resting on the breast of a woman so beautiful +that it was no wonder many had loved her. + +"Poor, little, long-ago mother!" + +Then he thought of Helen and her strong purpose in life, her devotion and +sacrifice. + +"I must go to her!" he cried resolutely. "I owe her--much, much!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +The pines and the hemlocks stood out sharply against a pink, throbbing +sky in which the stars still shone faintly but brilliantly. It was five +o'clock of a dim morning, and no one was astir in the In-Place as the +little steamer indolently turned from the Big Bay into the Channel and +headed for the wharf. + +Not a breath of air seemed stirring, and the stillness was unbroken +except by the panting of the engines. + +Priscilla Glenn stood near the gangway of the boat. Now that she had left +all her beautiful love and life, she was eager to hide, like a hurt and +bruised thing, in the old, familiar home. Leaning her poor, tired head +against the post near her, she thought of the desolate wreck behind, and +the tears came to the deep, true eyes. + +"I could have done--nothing else!" she murmured, as if to comfort the sad +thing she was. "It had to be! Margaret knew that; she understood. By now +she is as bereft as I; poor, dear love! Oh! it seems, just sometimes it +seems, like an army of men on one side and all of us women on the other. +Between us lies the great battlefield, and they, the men, are trying to +fight alone--fight our battle as well as theirs. And--they cannot! they +cannot!" + +Just then the boat touched the wharf, and a sleepy man, a stranger to +Priscilla, materialized and looked at her queerly. + +"For the Lodge?" he grunted. + +"Yes--I suppose so. Yes, the Lodge." + +"Up yonder." Then he turned to the freight. Once she was on the Green, +Priscilla paused and looked about. + +"For which?" Then she smiled a ghost of her bright, sunny smile. + +"My father's doors are shut to me," she sighed; "I cannot go to the +Lodge, yet! I must go--to----" Something touched her hand, and she +looked down. It was Farwell's dog, the old one, the one who used to play +with Priscilla when she was a little girl. + +"You dear!" she cried, dropping beside him; "You've come to show me the +way. Beg, Tony, beg like a good fellow. I have a bit of cake for you!" + +Clumsily, heavily, the old collie tried to respond, but of late he had +been excused from acting; and he was old, old. + +"Then take it, Tony, take it without pay. That comes of being a doggie. +You ought to be grateful that you are a dog, and--need not pay!" + +It was clear to her now that Farwell's home must be her first shelter, +and taking up her suit-case she passed over the Green and took the path +leading to the master's house. + +Some one had been before her. Some one who had swept the hearth, lighted +a fire, and set the breakfast table. Pine had taken Toky's place and was +vying with that deposed oriental in whole-souled service. + +Priscilla pushed the ever-unlatched door open and went inside. The bare +living-room had been transformed. John Boswell had transferred the +comfort, without the needless luxury, from the town home to the +In-Place--books, pictures, rugs, the winged chair and an equally easy one +across the hearth. And, yes, there was her own small rocker close by, as +if, in their detachment, they still remembered her and missed her and +were--ready for her coming! Priscilla noiselessly took off her wraps and +sat down, glad to rest again in the welcoming chair. + +She swayed back and forth, her closely folded arms across her +fast-beating heart. She kept her face turned toward the door through +which she knew the men would enter. She struggled for control, for a +manner which would disarm their shock at seeing her; but never in her +life had she felt more defeated, more helplessly at bay. + +The early morning light, streaming through the broad eastern window, +struck full across her where she sat in the low rocker; and so Boswell +and Farwell came upon her. They stopped short on the threshold and each, +in his way, sought to account for the apparition. The brave smile upon +Priscilla's face broke and fled miserably. + +"I--I've been doshed!" she cried in a last effort at bravado, and then, +covering her face with her hands, she wept hysterically, repeating again +and again, "I've come home, come home--to--no home!" + +They were beside her at once. Boswell's hand rested on the bowed head; +Farwell's on the back of her chair. + +"Dear, bright Butterfly!" whispered Boswell comfortingly; "it has come to +grief in the Garden." + +"Oh! I wanted to learn, and oh! Master Farwell, I said I was willing to +suffer, and I have, I have!" + +Then she looked up and her unflinching courage returned. + +"I was tired!" she moaned; "tired and hungry." + +"After breakfast you will explain--only as much as you choose, child." +This from Farwell. "Make the toast for us, Priscilla. I remember how +you used to brown it without blackening it. Boswell always gets dreaming +on the second side of the slice." + +After the strange meal Priscilla told very little, but both men read +volumes in her pale, thin face and understanding eyes. + +"Damn them!" thought Farwell; "they have taken it out of her. I knew they +would; but they have not conquered her!" + +Boswell thoughtfully considered her when her eyes were turned from him. + +"She learned," he thought; "suffered and learned; but when she gets her +breath she will go back. The In-Place cannot hold her." + +Then they told her of the Kenmore folk. + +"Your father has had a stroke, Priscilla," Farwell said in reply to her +question; "it has made him blind. Long Jean cares for him. He will have +no other near him." + +"And--he never wants me?" Priscilla whispered. + +"No; but he needs you!" Boswell muttered. "You must let your velvety +wings brush his dark life; the touch will comfort him." + +"And old Jerry?" + +Farwell leaned forward to poke the fire. + +"Old Jerry," said he, "has gone mildly--mad. All day he sits dressed in +his best, ready to start for Jerry-Jo's. He fancies that scapegoat of his +has a mansion and fortune, and is expecting his arrival. He amuses +himself by packing and unpacking a mangy old carpet-bag. Mary McAdam +looks after him and the village youngsters play with him. It's rather +a happy ending, after all." + +Many a time after that Priscilla packed and unpacked the old carpet-bag, +while Jerry rambled on of his great and splendid lad to the "Miss from +the States." + +"It's weak I am to-day, ma'am," he would say, "but to-morrow, to-morrow! +'Tis the Secret Portage I'll make for; the Fox is a bit too tricky for my +boat--a fine boat, ma'am. I'm thinking the Big Bay may be a trifle rough, +but the boat's a staunch one. Jerry-Jo's expecting me; but he'll +understand." + +"I am sure he will be glad to see you, sir." Priscilla learned to play +the sad game. The children taught her and loved her, and all the quiet +village kept her secret. Mary McAdam claimed her, but Priscilla clung +to the two men who meant the only comfort she could know. They never +questioned her; never intruded upon her sad, and often pitiful, reserve; +but they yearned over her and cheered her as best they could. + +Priscilla's visits to her father's house were often dramatic. At first +the sound of her voice disturbed and excited the blind man pathetically. + +"Eh? eh?" he stormed, holding to Long Jean's hand; "who comes in my +door?" + +"Oh! a lass--from the States," Jean replied with a reassuring pat on the +bony shoulder. + +"From the States?" suspiciously. + +"Aye. She's taken training in one of them big hospitables, and is a +friend to the crooked gentleman who bides with Master Farwell. The lass +comes to give me lessons in my trade." Jean had a touch of humour. + +"I'll have no fandangoing with me!" asserted Glenn, settling back in his +chair. "Old ways are good enough for me, Jean, and remember that, if you +value your place. I want no woman about me who has notions different from +what God Almighty meant her to have. Larning is woman's curse. Give 'em +larning, I've always held, and you've headed 'em for perdition." + +But Priscilla won him gradually, after he had become accustomed to her +disturbing voice. He would not have her touch him physically. She seemed +to rouse in him a strange unrest when she came near him, but eventually +he accepted her as a diversion and utilized her for his own hidden need. + +One day, with a hint of spring in the air, he reached out a lean hand +toward the window near which Jean had placed him, and said: + +"Woman, are you here?" + +"Jean's gone--erranding." The old mother-word attracted Glenn's +attention. + +"Eh?" he questioned. + +"To the village. I'm waiting until she comes back. Can I do anything for +you, sir?" + +"No. Is--is it a sunny day?" + +"Glorious. The ice is melting now--in the shady places." + +"I thought I felt the warmth. 'Tis cold and drear sitting forever in +darkness." + +"I am sure it must be--terrible." + +But Glenn resented pity. + +"God's will is never terrible!" he flung back. Then: + +"Are you one--who got larning?" + +"I--learned to read, sir." + +"And much--good it's done you--the larning! I warrant ye'd be better off +without it. Women are. Good women are content with God's way. My wife +was. Always willing, was she, to follow. God was enough for her--God and +me!" + +"I wonder!" + +"Eh? What was that?" + +"Nothing, sir. May I read to you?" + +"Is the Book there?" + +"Right here on the stand. What shall I read?" + +"There's one verse as haunts me at times; find it in Acts--the +seventeenth, I think--and along about the twenty-third verse. I used to +conjure what it might mean more than was good for me. It haunts me now, +though I ain't doubting but what the meaning will come to me, some day. +Them as sits in darkness often gets spiritual leadings." + +And Priscilla read: + +"'For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with +this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly +worship, him I declare unto you?'" + +A silence fell between the old, blind father and the stranger-girl +looking yearningly into his face. + +"I've conned it this way and that," Glenn said, with his oratorical +manner claiming him. "It might be that some worship an Unknown God and +the true God might pass by and set things straight. There be altars and +altars, and sometimes even my God seems----" + +"An Unknown God?" Priscilla asked tenderly. "That must be such a lonely +feeling." + +"No!" almost shrieked Nathaniel, as if the suggestion insulted him; "no! +The true God declared himself to me long since. But what do you make +of it, young Miss?" + +Priscilla turned her eyes to the open, free outer world, where the +sunshine was and the stirring of spring. + +"Sometimes," she whispered, "I love to think of God coming down from all +the shrines and altars of the world, and walking with his children--in +the Garden! They need him so. I do not like altars or shrines; the Garden +is the holiest place for God to be!" + +"Thou blasphemer!" Glenn struggled to an upright position and his +sightless eyes were fixed upon his child. "Wouldst thou desecrate the +holy of holies, the altars of the living God?" + +"If he is a living God he will not stay upon an altar; he will come and +walk with his children!" + +The tone of the absorbed voice reached where heretofore it had never +touched. + +"I'll have none of thee!" commanded Nathaniel, his face dangerously +purple. "Your words are of the--the devil! Leave me! leave me!" And for +the second time Priscilla was ordered from her father's house. + +It did not matter. It was all so useless, and the future was so blank. +Still, to go back to Master Farwell's just then was impossible, and +Priscilla turned toward the wood road leading to the Far Hill Place. She +had no plan, no purpose. She was drifting, drifting, and could not see +her way. The bright sun touched her comfortingly. In the shadow it was +chilly; but the red rock was warm and luring. And so she came to the open +space and the almost forgotten shrine where once she had raised her +Strange God. + +She sat down upon a fallen tree and looked over the little, many-islanded +bay to the Secret Portage. Through that she seemed to pass yearningly, +and her eyes grew large and strained. Then she stretched out her arms, +her young, empty arms. + +"My Garden!" she called; "my Garden, my dear, dear love and Margaret's +God! Margaret's and mine!" + +And so she sat for a while longer. Then, because the chill air crept +closer and closer, she arose and faced the old, bleached skull. The +winters had killed the sheltering vines that once hid it from all eyes +but hers. It stood bare and hideous, as if demanding that she again +worship it. A frenzy overpowered Priscilla. That whitened, dead thing +brought back memories that hurt and stung by their very sweetness. She +rushed to the spot and seized the forked stick upon which the skull +rested. + +"This for all--Unknown Gods!" she cried in breathless passion, and dashed +the skull to the ground. "And this! and this!" She trampled it. "They +shall not keep you upon shrines! They shall not keep you hidden from all +in the Garden!" With that she took a handful of the shattered god and +flung it far and wide, with her blazing eyes fixed on the Secret Portage. + +Standing so, she looked like a priestess of old defying all falseness and +traditional wrong. + +Among the trees Richard Travers gazed upon the scene with a kind of +horror gripping him. + +He was not a superstitious man, but he was a worn and weary one, and he +had come to the Far Hill Place, two days before, because, after much +searching, he had failed to find Priscilla Glynn, and his love was hurt +and desperate. He had wanted to hide and suffer where no eyes could +penetrate. But he had discovered that for a man to return to his boyhood +was but to undergo the torture of those who are haunted by lost spirits. +It had been damnable--that dreary, dismantled house back on the hill! +The nights had maddened him and left him unable to cope intelligently +with the days. Nothing comforting had been there. The pale boy he once +had been taunted him with memories of lowered ideals, unfilled promise +and purpose. He had travelled a long distance from the Far Hill Place, +and he was going back to fight it out--somehow, somewhere. He would +stop at Master Farwell's and then take the night steamer for the old +battle-ground. And just at that moment, in the open space, he saw the +strange sight that stopped his breath and heart for an instant. + +Of course his wornout senses were being tricked. He had known of such +cases, and was now thoroughly alarmed. Like a man in delirium, he walked +into the open and confronted the fascinated gaze of the girl for whom he +had been searching for weeks. + +"How came--you here?" he asked in a voice from which normal emotions were +eliminated. + +"And--you?" she echoed. + +They came a step nearer, their hands outstretched in a poor, blind +groping for solution and reality. + +"Why--I am--I meant to tell you--some day. I am Priscilla Glenn--not +Glynn--Priscilla Glenn of--Lonely Farm." + +"My God!" Travers came a step nearer, his face set and grim. "Of course! +I see it now--the dance! Don't you remember? The dance at the Swiss +village?" + +"And the--the tune that made me cry. Who--are----How did _you_ know that +tune? How did you know--the In-Place?" + +Their hands touched and clung now, desperately. Together they must find +their way out. + +"I am--I was--the boy of the Far Hill Place. I played for you--once--to +dance--right here!" + +Something seemed snapping in Priscilla's brain. + +"Yes," she whispered, breathing hard and quick. "I remember now: you +taught me music, and--and you taught me--love, but you told me not to let +them kill my ideal; and, oh! I haven't! I haven't!" + +She shut her eyes and reeled forward. She did not faint, but for a moment +her senses refused to accept impressions. + +Travers knelt and caught her to him as she fell. Her dear head was upon +his knee once more, and he pressed his lips to the wonderful hair from +which the little hat had fallen. Then her eyes opened, but her lips +trembled. + +"You--came all the way from the Place Beyond the Winds, little girl, to +show me my ideal again; to strike your blow--for women." Travers was +whispering. + +"Your ideal? But no, dear love. Your ideal is back there--in the Garden." + +"And yours? I--I do not understand, Priscilla. I am still dazed. What +Garden?" + +"The big world, my dear man; your world." + +"My blessed child! Do not look like that. Do you think I'm going back +without you? I've been looking for--Priscilla Glynn--fool that I was! +And you were--great heavens! You were the little nurse in St. Albans!" + +"Yes--and you and I--stood by Jerry-Jo McAlpin's bed--you and I! That was +his secret." + +"Priscilla, what do you mean?" + +Then she told him, clinging to him, fearing that he might fall from her +hold as she had once fallen from his, on the mountain across the sea. + +"And you danced before my eyes as only one woman on earth can dance--and +I did not know! Tricked by a name and--and the change in me! You were +always the same--the flame-spirit that I first saw--here!" + +"And you played--that tune, and you were divinely good; and I--I did not +know." + +"But we drifted straight to each other, my girl!" + +"Only--to part." + +"To part? Never! It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, and out +to the open sea. We'll slip our moorings to-night, and send word after! +I must have you, and at once. I know what it means to see you escaping my +hold. Flame-spirits are elusive." + +"And--and Margaret?" + +"She--needs you. A fortnight ago I saw her, and this is what she said, +smiling her old, brave smile: 'I think I could bear it better if her +dear, shining head was in sight. Greater love hath no woman! Find her and +bring her back!' That's your place, my sweet. Out there where the fight +is on. Such as you can show us--that 'tis no fight between men and women, +but one against ignorance and tradition. You'll trust yourself to me, +dear girl?" + +[Illustration: "'It's past the Dreamer's Rock for us, my sweet, +and out to the open sea'"] + +"I did--long ago!" + +"To think"--Travers was gaining control of himself; the shock, the +readjustment, had been so sudden that sensation returned slowly--"to +think, dear blunderer, of your coming among us all, striking your blow, +and then rushing to your In-Place! But love is mightier than thou; +mightier than all else!" + +"Not mightier than honour--such honour as Margaret knows!" Then fiercely: +"What right have I to my--joy, when she----" + +"She told me that only by your happiness being consummated could she hope +for peace." + +Travers's voice was low and reverent. + +"What--a girl she is!" Priscilla faltered. + +"The All Woman." + +"Yes, the All Woman." + +The sun began to drop behind the tall hemlocks. Priscilla shivered in the +arms that held her. + +"Little girl, I wish I could wrap you in the old red cape you wore once, +before the shrine." + +"It is gone now, like the shrine. Oh! my love, my love, to think of the +Garden makes me live again." The fancy caught Travers's imagination. + +"The Garden!" + +'Twas a day for dreamy wandering, now that they had come to a cleared +space from which they could see light. + +"The Garden, with its flowers and weeds." + +"And its men and women!" added Priscilla, her eyes full of gladness. +"Oh! long ago, I told Master Farwell that I felt Kenmore was only my +stopping-place; I feel it now so surely." + +"Yes, my sweet, but you and I will return here to polish our ideals and +catch our breaths." + +"In the Place Beyond the Winds, dear man?" + +"Exactly! Those old Indians had a genius for names." + +"And in the Garden--what are we to do?" Priscilla asked, her eyes growing +more practical. "They will have none of--Priscilla Glynn, you know. And +you, dear heart, what will they do to you, now that you have defied their +code?" + +"Priscilla Glynn has done her best and is--gone! There will be a +Priscilla Travers with many a stern duty before her." + +"Yes, but you?" + +"I shall try to keep your golden head in sight, little girl! For the +rest--I have a small income--my father's. I must tell you about him and +my mother, some day; and I shall write--write; and men and women may read +what they might not be willing to listen to." + +"I see! And oh! how rich and bright the way on ahead looks! Just when I +thought the clouds were crushing me, they opened and I saw----" + +"What, Priscilla?" + +"You!" + +"And now," Travers got upon his feet and drew her up; "do you know what +is going to happen?" + +"Can anything more happen to-day?" + +"We are going to Master Farwell's, you and I. We are going to take him +with us to the little chapel down the Channel; there we'll leave +Priscilla Glenn, and, in her place, bring Priscilla Travers forth." + +The colour rose to the thin, radiant face. + +"And may we take John Boswell, too?" + +"Boswell? Is he here?" + +"Yes, with my Master Farwell." + +Travers rapidly put loose ends of the past together, then exclaimed: + +"God bless him; God bless Master Farwell!" + +"I only know"--Priscilla's eyes were dim--"I only know--they are good +men--both!" + +"Yes, both! And to-night," Travers came back to the present, "I will take +my wife away with me on the steamer." + +"A poor, vagabond wife. Nothing but a heart full of love--as baggage." + +"The Garden is a rich place, my love." + +"And one can get so much for so little there." Priscilla meant to hold to +her dear old joke. + +"And so little--for so much!" + +"That's not the language of the Garden, good man!" + +It was so easy to play, now that Travers was leading the way from the +wrecked shrine. + +"You are right, my girl!" Then Travers stopped and faced her, his eyes +glowing with love and courage. "And to-morrow--is not yet touched!" he +said. + +THE END + + + + * * * * * + +BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR + + +Joyce of the North Woods +Princess Rags and Tatters +A Son of the Hills +Janet of the Dunes +A Little Dusky Hero +Meg and the Others +Camp Brave Pine + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Place Beyond the Winds, by Harriet T. 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