1 files changed, 2409 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/24389-8.txt b/24389-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..68969bd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24389-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2409 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Blue-Bird Weather, by Robert W. Chambers,
+Illustrated by Charles Dana Gibson
+
+
+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: Blue-Bird Weather
+
+
+Author: Robert W. Chambers
+
+
+
+Release Date: January 21, 2008  [eBook #24389]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-BIRD WEATHER***
+
+
+E-text prepared by S. Drawehn, Suzanne Shell, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 24389-h.htm or 24389-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/3/8/24389/24389-h/24389-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/3/8/24389/24389-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+BLUE-BIRD WEATHER
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Works of Robert W. Chambers
+
+  The Streets Of Ascalon
+  Blue-Bird Weather
+  Japonette
+  The Adventures of a Modest Man
+  The Danger Mark
+  Special Messenger
+  The Firing Line
+  The Younger Set
+  The Fighting Chance
+  Some Ladies in Haste
+  The Tree of Heaven
+  The Tracer of Lost Persons
+  A Young Man in a Hurry
+  Lorraine
+  Maids of Paradise
+  Ashes of Empire
+  The Red Republic
+  Outsiders
+  The Common Law
+  Ailsa Paige
+  The Green Mouse
+  Iole
+  The Reckoning
+  The Maid-at-Arms
+  Cardigan
+  The Haunts of Men
+  The Mystery of Choice
+  The Cambric Mask
+  The Maker of Moons
+  The King in Yellow
+  In Search of the Unknown
+  The Conspirators
+  A King and a Few Dukes
+  In the Quarter
+
+
+For Children
+
+  Garden-Land
+  Forest-Land
+  River-Land
+  Mountain-Land
+  Orchard-Land
+  Outdoor-Land
+  Hide and Seek in Forest-Land
+
+  D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, New York
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+BLUE-BIRD WEATHER
+
+by
+
+ROBERT W. CHAMBERS
+
+[Decoration]
+
+With Illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "She trotted away to Marche's door and tapped softly."
+                                                         [Page 140]]
+
+
+D. Appleton and Company
+New York and London :: MCMXII
+
+Copyright, 1912, by
+Robert W. Chambers
+
+Copyright, 1911, by International Magazine Company
+
+Published October, 1912
+
+Published in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+  TO
+  JOSEPH LEE
+  OF NEEDWOOD FOREST
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                                                                    PAGE
+
+  "She trotted away to Marche's door and tapped softly."  _Frontispiece_
+
+  "She said gravely: 'I am afraid it will be blue-bird weather.'"     14
+
+  "'Well,' he said pleasantly, 'what comes next, Miss Herold?'"       26
+
+  "'I'm _so_ sorry, Jim.'"                                            33
+
+  "They ate their luncheon there together."                           88
+
+  "'Jim,' he said, 'where did you live?'"                             99
+
+  "'He tells you that he--he is in love with you?'"                  127
+
+
+
+
+BLUE-BIRD WEATHER
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+It was now almost too dark to distinguish objects; duskier and vaguer
+became the flat world of marshes, set here and there with cypress and
+bounded only by far horizons; and at last land and water disappeared
+behind the gathered curtains of the night. There was no sound from the
+waste except the wind among the withered reeds and the furrowing splash
+of wheel and hoof over the submerged causeway.
+
+The boy who was driving had scarcely spoken since he strapped Marche's
+gun cases and valise to the rear of the rickety wagon at the railroad
+station. Marche, too, remained silent, preoccupied with his own
+reflections. Wrapped in his fur-lined coat, arms folded, he sat doubled
+forward, feeling the Southern swamp-chill busy with his bones. Now and
+then he was obliged to relight his pipe, but the cold bit at his
+fingers, and he hurried to protect himself again with heavy gloves.
+
+The small, rough hands of the boy who was driving were naked, and
+finally Marche mentioned it, asking the child if he were not cold.
+
+"No, sir," he said, with a colorless brevity that might have been
+shyness or merely the dull indifference of the very poor, accustomed to
+discomfort.
+
+"Don't you feel cold at all?" persisted Marche kindly.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"I suppose you are hardened to this sort of weather?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+By the light of a flaming match, Marche glanced sideways at him as he
+drew his pipe into a glow once more, and for an instant the boy's gray
+eyes flickered toward his in the flaring light. Then darkness masked
+them both again.
+
+"Are you Mr. Herold's son?" inquired the young man.
+
+"Yes, sir," almost sullenly.
+
+"How old are you?"
+
+"Eleven."
+
+"You're a big boy, all right. I have never seen your father. He is at
+the clubhouse, no doubt."
+
+"Yes, sir," scarcely audible.
+
+"And you and he live there all alone, I suppose?"
+
+"Yes, sir." A moment later the boy added jerkily, "And my sister," as
+though truth had given him a sudden nudge.
+
+"Oh, you have a sister, too?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"That makes it very jolly for you, I fancy," said Marche pleasantly.
+There was no reply to the indirect question.
+
+His pipe had gone out again, and he knocked the ashes from it and
+pocketed it. For a while they drove on in silence, then Marche peered
+impatiently through the darkness, right and left, in an effort to see;
+and gave it up.
+
+"You must know this road pretty well to be able to keep it," he said.
+"As for me, I can't see anything except a dirty little gray star up
+aloft."
+
+"The horse knows the road."
+
+"I'm glad of that. Have you any idea how near we are to the house?"
+
+"Half a mile. That's Rattler Creek, yonder."
+
+"How the dickens can you tell?" asked Marche curiously. "You can't see
+anything in the dark, can you?"
+
+"I don't know how I can tell," said the boy indifferently.
+
+Marche smiled. "A sixth sense, probably. What did you say your name is?"
+
+"Jim."
+
+"And you're eleven? You'll be old enough to have a gun very soon, Jim.
+How would you like to shoot a real, live wild duck?"
+
+"I _have_ shot plenty."
+
+Marche laughed. "Good for you, Jimmy. What did the gun do to you? Kick
+you flat on your back?"
+
+The boy said gravely: "Father's gun is too big for me. I have to rest it
+on the edge of the blind when I fire."
+
+"Do you shoot from the blinds?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Marche relapsed into smiling silence. In a few moments he was thinking
+of other things--of this muddy island which had once been the property
+of a club consisting of five carefully selected and wealthy members, and
+which, through death and resignation, had now reverted to him. Why he
+had ever bought in the shares, as one by one the other members either
+died or dropped out, he did not exactly know. He didn't care very much
+for duck shooting. In five years he had not visited the club; and why he
+had come here this year for a week's sport he scarcely knew, except that
+he had either to go somewhere for a rest or ultimately be carried,
+kicking, into what his slangy doctor called the "funny house."
+
+So here he was, on a cold February night, and already nearly at his
+destination; for now he could make out a light across the marsh, and
+from dark and infinite distances the east wind bore the solemn rumor of
+the sea, muttering of wrecks and death along the Atlantic sands beyond
+the inland sounds.
+
+"Well, Jim," he said, "I never thought I'd survive this drive, but here
+we are, and still alive. Are you frozen solid, you poor boy?"
+
+The boy smiled, shyly, in negation, as they drove into the bar of light
+from the kitchen window and stopped. Marche got down very stiffly. The
+kitchen door opened at the same moment, and a woman's figure appeared in
+the lamplight--a young girl, slender, bare armed, drying her fingers as
+she came down the steps to offer a small, weather-roughened hand to
+Marche.
+
+"My brother will show you to your room," she said. "Supper will be ready
+in a few minutes."
+
+So he thanked her and went away with Jim, relieving the boy of the
+valise and one gun-case, and presently came to the quarters prepared for
+him. The room was rough, with its unceiled walls of yellow pine, a
+chair, washstand, bed, and a nail or two for his wardrobe. It had been
+the affectation of the wealthy men composing the Foam Island Duck Club
+to exist almost primitively when on the business of duck shooting, in
+contradistinction to the overfed luxury of other millionaires
+inhabiting other more luxuriously appointed shooting-boxes along the
+Chesapeake.
+
+The Foam Island Club went in heavily for simplicity, as far as the
+two-story shanty of a clubhouse was concerned; but their island was one
+of the most desirable in the entire region, and their live decoys the
+most perfectly trained and cared for.
+
+Marche, washing his tingling fingers and visage in icy water, rather
+wished, for a moment, that the club had installed modern plumbing; but
+delectable odors from the kitchen put him into better humor, and
+presently he went off down the creaking and unpainted stairs to warm
+himself at a big stove until summoned to the table.
+
+He was summoned in a few moments by the same girl who had greeted him;
+and she also waited on him at table, placing before him in turn his
+steaming soup, a platter of fried bass and smoking sweet potatoes, then
+the inevitable broiled canvas-back duck with rice, and finally home-made
+preserves--wild grapes, exquisitely fragrant in their thin, golden
+syrup.
+
+Marche was that kind of a friendly young man who is naturally
+gay-hearted and also a little curious--sometimes to the verge of
+indiscretion. For his curiosity and inquiring interest in his fellow-men
+was easily aroused--particularly when they were less fortunately
+situated than he in a world where it is a favorite fiction that all are
+created equal. He was, in fact, that particular species of human
+nuisance known as a humanitarian; but he never dreamed he was a
+nuisance, and certainly never meant to be.
+
+Warmth and food and the prospects of to-morrow's shooting, and a
+slender, low-voiced young girl, made cheerful his recently frost-nipped
+soul, and he was inclined to expand and become talkative there in the
+lamplight.
+
+"Has the shooting been pretty good?" he asked pleasantly, plying knife
+and fork in the service of a raging appetite.
+
+"It _has_ been."
+
+"What do you think of the prospects for to-morrow?"
+
+[Illustration: "She said gravely: 'I am afraid it will be blue-bird
+weather.'"]
+
+She said gravely: "I am afraid it will be blue-bird weather."
+
+It was a new, but graphic, expression to him; and he often remembered
+it afterward, and how quaintly it fell from her lips as she stood there
+in the light of the kerosene lamp, slim, self-possessed, in her faded
+gingham gown and apron, the shapely middle finger of one little
+weather-tanned hand resting on the edge of the cloth.
+
+"You are Miss Herold, I suppose?" he said, looking up at her with his
+pleasant smile.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You are not Southern?"
+
+"No," she said briefly. And he then remembered that the Hon. Cicero W.
+Gilkins, when he was president of the now defunct club, had installed a
+Northern man as resident chief game-protector and superintendent at the
+Foam Island Club House.
+
+Marche had never even seen Herold; but, through lack of personal
+interest, and also because he needed somebody to look out for the
+property, he had continued to pay this man Herold his inconsiderable
+salary every year, scarcely knowing, himself, why he did not put the
+Foam Island shooting on the market and close up the matter for good.
+
+"It's been five years since I was here, Miss Herold," he said, smiling.
+"That was in the old days of the club, when Judge Gilkins and Colonel
+Vyse used to come here shooting every season. But you don't remember
+them, I fancy."
+
+"I remember them."
+
+"Really! You must have been quite a child."
+
+"I was thirteen."
+
+"Oh, then you are eighteen, now," he said humorously.
+
+Her grave, young lips were only slightly responsive to his smile.
+
+"You have been here a long time," he said. "Do you find it lonely?"
+
+"Sometimes," she admitted.
+
+"What do you do for recreation?"
+
+"I don't think I know what you mean, Mr. Marche."
+
+"I mean for pleasure."
+
+She looked at him out of her clear, gray eyes, then turned her gaze on
+the window. But she could not see through it; the pane only reflected
+her face darkly; and to her, for a moment, it seemed that way with her
+whole pent-up life, here in the Virginia marshes--no outlet, no outlook,
+and wherever she turned her wistful eyes only her own imprisoned self to
+confront her out of the dull obscurity.
+
+"I suppose," he said, watching her, "that you sometimes go to Norfolk
+for a holiday?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Or to Old Point, or Baltimore, perhaps?"
+
+She had her under lip between her teeth, now, and was looking so fixedly
+at the window that he thought she had not heard him.
+
+He rose from the table, and as she turned to meet his pleasant eyes he
+smilingly thanked her for waiting on him.
+
+"And now," he said, "if you will say to your father that I'd like to
+have a little talk with him----"
+
+"Father is ill in bed," she said, in a low voice.
+
+"Oh, I'm sorry. I hope it isn't anything serious."
+
+"I--think not."
+
+"Will he be able to see me to-morrow?"
+
+"I am afraid not, Mr. Marche. He--he asked me to say to you that you
+might safely transact any business with me. I know all about it," she
+said, speaking a little hurriedly. "I keep the accounts, and I have
+every item and every bill ready for your inspection; and I can tell you
+exactly what condition the property is in and what lumber has been cut
+and what repairs have been necessary. Whenever you are ready for me, I
+will come into the sitting room," she added, "because Jim and I have had
+our supper."
+
+"Very well," he said, smiling, "I am ready now, if you are."
+
+So she went away to rinse her hands and lay aside her apron, and in a
+few minutes she entered the sitting room. He rose and placed a chair for
+her, and she thanked him, flushing a little, and then he resumed his
+seat, watching her sorting over the papers in her lap.
+
+Presently she crossed one knee over the other, and one slim, prettily
+shaped foot, in its shabby shoe, swung clear of its shadow on the floor.
+Then she handed him a sheaf of bills for his inspection, and, pencil in
+hand, followed the totals as he read them off aloud.
+
+For half an hour they compared and checked off items, and he found her
+accounts accurate to a penny.
+
+"Father bought three geese and a gander from Ike Helm," she said. "They
+were rather expensive, but two were mated, and they call very well when
+tied out separated. Do you think it was too expensive?" she added
+timidly, showing him the bill.
+
+"No," he said, smiling. "I think it's all right. Mated decoys are what
+we need, and you can wing-tip a dozen before you get one that will talk
+at the right time."
+
+"That is true," she said eagerly. "We try our best to keep up the decoys
+and have nothing but talkers. Our geese are nearly all right, and our
+ducks are good, but our swans are _so_ vexing! They seem to be such
+fools, and they usually behave like silly cygnets. You will see
+to-morrow."
+
+While she was speaking, her brother came quietly into the room with an
+open book in his hands, and Marche, glancing at it curiously, saw that
+it was a Latin grammar.
+
+"Where do you go to school, Jim?" he asked.
+
+"Father teaches me."
+
+Marche, rather astonished at the calibre of his superintendent,
+glanced from the boy to his sister in silence. The girl's head
+remained steadily lowered over the papers on her knee, but he saw her
+foot swinging in nervous rhythm, and he was conscious of her silent
+impatience at something or other, perhaps at the interruption in their
+business discussion.
+
+[Illustration: "'Well,' he said pleasantly, 'what comes next, Miss
+Herold?'"]
+
+"Well," he said pleasantly, "what comes next, Miss Herold?"
+
+She handed him a list of the decoys. He read it gravely, nodded, and
+returned it.
+
+"You may count them for yourself to-morrow," she said.
+
+"Not at all. I trust you entirely," he replied laughingly.
+
+Then they went over the remaining matters, the condition of the pine
+timber, the repairs to the boats and blinds and stools, items for snaps,
+swivels, paint, cement, wire, none of which interested Marche as much as
+the silent boy reading his Latin grammar by the smoky lamp interested
+him, or the boy's sister bending over the papers on her knee, pencil
+poised in her pretty, weather-roughened hand.
+
+"I sent the shells from New York by express," he said. "Did they
+arrive?"
+
+"I left two hundred in your room," said the boy, looking up.
+
+"Oh, thank you, Jim." And, turning to his sister, who had raised her
+head, inquiringly, "I suppose somebody will call me at the screech of
+dawn, won't they?"
+
+"Do you know the new law?" she asked.
+
+"No. I don't like laws, anyway," he said smilingly.
+
+She smiled, too, gathering up her papers preparatory to departure.
+"Nobody is allowed," she said, "to put off from shore until the sun is
+above the horizon line. And the wardens are very strict." Then she rose.
+"Will you excuse me? I have the dishes to do."
+
+The boy laid aside his book and stood up, but his sister said:
+
+"Stay and study, Jim. I don't need any help."
+
+And Jim resumed his seat with heightened color. A moment later, however,
+he went out to the kitchen.
+
+"Look here, Molly," he said, "wha'd' you want to give me away for?
+He'll think I'm a sissy, helping you do dishes and things."
+
+"My dear, my dear!" she exclaimed contritely, "I didn't think of it.
+Please forgive me, Jim. Anyway, you don't really care what this man
+thinks about any of us----"
+
+"Yes, I do! Anyway, a fellow doesn't want another fellow to think he
+washes dishes."
+
+"You darling! Forgive me. I wasn't thinking. It was too stupid of me."
+
+"It really was," said the boy, in his sweet, dignified voice, "and I'd
+been telling him that I'd shot ducks, too."
+
+[Illustration: "'I'm _so_ sorry, Jim.'"]
+
+His sister caught him around the neck and kissed his blonde head. "I'm
+_so_ sorry, Jim. He won't think of it again. If he does, he'll only
+respect a boy who is so good to his sister. And," she added,
+cautioning him with lifted finger, "don't talk too much to him, Jim, no
+matter how nice and kind he is. I know how lonely you are and how
+pleasant it is to talk to a man like Mr. Marche; but remember that
+father doesn't wish us to say anything about ourselves or about him, so
+we must be careful."
+
+"Why doesn't father want us to speak about him or ourselves to Mr.
+Marche?" asked the boy.
+
+His sister had gone back to her dishes. Now, looking around over her
+shoulder, she said seriously, "That is father's affair, dear, not ours."
+
+"But don't you know why?"
+
+"Shame on you, Jim! What father cares to tell us he will tell us; but
+it's exceedingly bad manners to ask."
+
+"Is father really very ill?"
+
+"I told you that to ask me such things is improper," said the girl,
+coloring. "He has told us that he does not feel well, and that he
+prefers to remain in his room for a few days. That is enough for us,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Yes," said the boy thoughtfully.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+Marche, buried under a mountain of bed clothes, dreamed that people were
+rapping noisily on his door, and grinned in his dream, meaning to let
+them rap until they tired of it. Suddenly a voice sounded through his
+defiant slumbers, clear and charming as a golden ray parting thick
+clouds. The next moment he found himself awake, bolt upright in the icy
+dusk of his room, listening.
+
+"Mr. Marche! Won't you _please_ wake up and answer?" came the clear,
+young voice again.
+
+"I _beg_ your pardon!" he cried. "I'll be down in a minute!"
+
+He heard her going away downstairs, and for a few seconds he squatted
+there, huddled in coverings to the chin, and eying the darkness in a
+sort of despair. The feverish drive of Wall Street, late suppers, and
+too much good fellowship had not physically hardened Marche. He was
+accustomed to have his bath tempered comfortably for his particular
+brand of physique. Breakfast, also, was a most carefully ordered
+informality with him.
+
+The bitter chill smote him. Cursing the simple life, he crawled gingerly
+out of bed, suffered acutely while hunting for a match, lighted the
+kerosene lamp with stiffened fingers, and looked about him, shivering.
+Then, with a suppressed anathema, he stepped into his folding tub and
+emptied the arctic contents of the water pitcher over himself.
+
+Half an hour later he appeared at the breakfast table, hungrier than he
+had been in years. There was nobody there to wait on him, but the dishes
+and coffee pot were piping hot, and he madly ate eggs and razor-back,
+and drank quantities of coffee, and finally set fire to a cigarette,
+feeling younger and happier than he had felt for ages.
+
+Of one thing he was excitedly conscious: that dreadful and persistent
+dragging feeling at the nape of his neck had vanished. It didn't seem
+possible that it could have disappeared overnight, but it had, for the
+present, at least.
+
+He went into the sitting room. Nobody was there, either, so he broke his
+sealed shell boxes, filled his case with sixes and fives and double B's,
+drew his expensive ducking gun from its case and took a look at it,
+buckled the straps of his hip boots to his belt, felt in the various
+pockets of his shooting coat to see whether matches, pipe, tobacco,
+vaseline, oil, shell extractor, knife, handkerchief, gloves, were in
+their proper places; found them so, and, lighting another cigarette,
+strolled contentedly around the small and almost bare room, bestowing a
+contented and patronizing glance upon each humble article and decoration
+as he passed.
+
+Evidently this photograph, in an oval frame of old-time water gilt, was
+a portrait of Miss Herold's mother. What a charming face, with its
+delicate, high-bred nose and lips! The boy, Jim, had her mouth and nose,
+and his sister her eyes, slightly tilted to a slant at the outer
+corners--beautifully shaped eyes, he remembered.
+
+He lingered a moment, then strolled on, viewing with tolerant
+indifference the few poor ornaments on the mantel, the chromos of wild
+ducks and shore birds, and found himself again by the lamp-lit table
+from which he had started his explorations.
+
+On it were Jim's Latin book, a Bible, and several last year's magazines.
+
+Idly he turned the flyleaf of the schoolbook. Written there was the
+boy's name--"Jim, from Daddy."
+
+As he was closing the cover a sudden instinct arrested his hand, and,
+not knowing exactly why, he reopened the book and read the inscription
+again. He read it again, too, with a vague sensation of familiarity with
+it, or with the book, or something somehow connected with it, he could
+not tell exactly what; but a slightly uncomfortable feeling remained as
+he laid aside the book and stood with brows knitted and eyes absently
+bent on the stove.
+
+The next moment Jim came in, wearing a faded overcoat which he had
+outgrown.
+
+"Hello!" said Marche, looking up. "Are you ready for me, Jim?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What sort of a chance have I?"
+
+"I'm afraid it is blue-bird weather," said the boy diffidently.
+
+Marche scowled, then smiled. "Your sister said it would probably be that
+kind of weather. Well, we all have to take a sporting chance with things
+in general, don't we, Jim?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+Marche picked up his gun case and cartridge box. The boy offered to take
+them, but the young man shook his head.
+
+"Lead on, old sport!" he said cheerily. "I'm a beast of more burdens
+than you know anything about. How's your father, by the way?"
+
+"I think father is about the same."
+
+"Doesn't he need a doctor?"
+
+"No, sir, I think not."
+
+"What is it, Jim? Fever?"
+
+"I don't know," said the boy, in a low voice. He led the way, and Marche
+followed him out of doors.
+
+A gray light made plain the desolation of the scene, although the sun
+had not yet risen. To the south and west the sombre pine woods stretched
+away; eastward, a few last year's cornstalks stood, withered in the
+clearing, through which a rutted road ran down to the water.
+
+"It isn't the finest farming land in the world, is it, Jim?" he said
+humorously.
+
+"I haven't seen any other land," said the boy quietly.
+
+"Don't you remember the Northern country at all?"
+
+"No, sir--except Central Park."
+
+"Oh, you were New-Yorkers?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Father----" and he fell abruptly silent.
+
+They were walking together down the rutted road, and Marche glanced
+around at him.
+
+"What were you going to say about your father, Jim?"
+
+"Nothing." Then truth jogged his arm. "I mean I was only going to say
+that father and mother and all of us lived there."
+
+"In New York?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Is your--your mother living?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"I think I saw her picture in the sitting room," he said gently. "She
+must have been everything a mother should be."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Was it long ago, Jim?"
+
+"When she died?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Yes, very long ago. Six years ago."
+
+"Before you came here, then?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+After they had walked in silence for a little while, Marche said, "I
+suppose you have arranged for somebody to take me out?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+They emerged from the lane to the shore at the same moment, and Marche
+glanced about for the expected bayman.
+
+"Oh, there he is!" he said, as a figure came from behind a dory and
+waded leisurely shoreward through the shallows--a slight figure in hip
+boots and wool shooting hood and coat, who came lightly across the sands
+to meet him. And, astonished, he looked into the gray eyes of Molly
+Herold.
+
+"Father could not take you," she said, without embarrassment, "and Jim
+isn't quite big enough to manage the swans and geese. Do you mind my
+acting as your bayman?"
+
+"Mind?" he repeated. "No, of course not. Only--it seems rather rough on
+you. Couldn't you have hired a bayman for me?"
+
+"I will, if you wish," she said, her cheeks reddening. "But, really, if
+you'll let me, I am perfectly accustomed to bayman's work."
+
+"Do you _want_ to do it?"
+
+She said, without self-consciousness, "If it is the same to you, Mr.
+Marche, I had rather that the bayman's wages came to us."
+
+"Certainly--of course," he said hurriedly. Then, smiling: "You look the
+part. I took you for a young man, at first. Now, tell me how I can help
+you."
+
+"Jim can do that. Still, if you don't mind handling the decoys----"
+
+"Not at all," he said, going up to the fenced inclosures which ran from
+a rod or two inland down into the shallow water, making three separate
+yards for geese, swans, and ducks.
+
+Jim was already in the duck pen, hustling the several dozen mallard and
+black ducks into an inland corral. The indignant birds, quacking a
+concerted protest, waddled up from the shore, and, one by one, the boy
+seized the suitable ones, and passed them over the fence to Marche. He
+handed them to Molly Herold, who waded out to the dory, a duck tucked
+under either arm, and slipped them deftly into the decoy-crates forward
+and aft.
+
+The geese were harder to manage--great, sleek, pastel-tinted birds whose
+wing blows had the force of a man's fist--and they flapped and
+struggled and buffeted Jim till his blonde head spun; but at last Marche
+and Molly had them crated in the dory.
+
+Then the wild swans' turn came--great, white creatures with black beaks
+and feet; and Molly and Marche were laughing as they struggled to catch
+them and carry them aboard.
+
+But at last every decoy was squatting in the crates; the mast had been
+stepped, guns laid aboard, luncheon stowed away. Marche set his shoulder
+to the stern; the girl sprang aboard, and he followed; the triangular
+sail filled, and the boat glided out into the sound, straight into the
+glittering lens of the rising sun.
+
+A great winter gull flapped across their bows; in the lee of Starfish
+Island, long strings of wild ducks rose like shredded clouds, and,
+swarming in the sky, swinging, drifting, sheered eastward, out toward
+the unseen Atlantic.
+
+"Bluebills and sprigs," said the girl, resting her elbow on the tiller.
+"There are geese on the shoal, yonder. They've come out from Currituck.
+Oh, I'm afraid it's to be blue-bird weather, Mr. Marche."
+
+"I'm afraid it is," he assented, smiling. "What do you do in that case,
+Miss Herold?"
+
+"Go to sleep in the blind," she admitted, with a faint smile, the first
+delicate approach to anything resembling the careless confidence of
+camaraderie that had yet come from her.
+
+"See the ducks!" she said, as bunch after bunch parted from the water,
+distantly, yet all around them, and, gathering like clouds of dusky
+bees, whirled away through the sky until they seemed like bands of smoke
+high drifting. Presently she turned and looked back, signaling adieu to
+the shore, where her brother lifted his arm in response, then turned
+away inland.
+
+"That's a nice boy," said Marche briefly, and glanced up to see in his
+sister's face the swift and exquisite transformation that requires no
+words as answer.
+
+"You seem to like him," said he, laughing.
+
+Molly Herold's gray eyes softened; pride, that had made the love in
+them brilliant, faded until they grew almost sombre. Silent, her aloof
+gaze remained fixed on the horizon; her lips rested on each other in
+sensitive curves. There was no sound save the curling of foam under the
+bows.
+
+Marche looked elsewhere; then looked at her again. She sat motionless,
+gray eyes remote, one little, wind-roughened hand on the tiller. The
+steady breeze filled the sail; the dory stood straight away toward the
+blinding glory of the sunrise.
+
+Through the unreal golden light, raft after raft of wild ducks rose and
+whirled into the east; blue herons flopped across the water; a
+silver-headed eagle, low over the waves, winged his way heavily toward
+some goal, doggedly intent upon his own business.
+
+Outside Starfish Shoal the girl eased the sheet as the wind freshened.
+Far away on Golden Bar thousands of wild geese, which had been tipping
+their sterns skyward in plunging quest of nourishment, resumed a more
+stately and normal posture, as though at a spoken command; and the long
+ranks, swimming, and led by age and wisdom, slowly moved away into the
+glittering east.
+
+At last, off the starboard bow, the low, reedy levels of Foam Island
+came into view, and in a few minutes more the dory lay in the shallows,
+oars, mast, and rag stowed; and the two young people splashed busily
+about in their hip boots, carrying guns, ammunition, and food into the
+blind.
+
+Then Molly Herold, standing on the mud bank, flung, one by one, a
+squadron of wooden, painted, canvasback decoys into the water, where
+they righted themselves, and presently rode the waves, bobbing and
+steering with startling fidelity to the real things.
+
+Then it came the turn of the real things. Marche and Molly, a struggling
+bird tucked under each arm, waded out along the lanes of stools, feeling
+about under the icy water until their fingers encountered the wire-cored
+cords. Then, to the leg rings of each madly flapping duck and swan and
+goose they snapped on the leads, and the tethered birds, released, beat
+the water into foam and flapped and splashed and tugged, until, finally
+reconciled, they began to souse themselves with great content, and
+either mounted their stools or swam calmly about as far as their tethers
+permitted.
+
+Marche, struggling knee-deep in the water, his arms full of wildly
+flapping gander, hailed Molly for instructions.
+
+"That's a mated bird!" she called out to him. "Peg him outside by
+himself!"
+
+So Marche pegged out the furious old gander, whose name was Uncle
+Dudley, and in a few minutes that dignified and insulted bird, missing
+his spouse, began to talk about it.
+
+Every wifely feeling outraged, his spouse replied loudly from the
+extreme end of the inner lane, telling her husband, and every duck,
+goose, and swan in the vicinity, what she thought of such an inhuman
+separation.
+
+Molly laughed, and so did Marche. Duck after duck, goose after goose,
+joined indignantly in the conversation. The mallard drakes twisted their
+emerald-green heads and began that low, half gurgling, half quacking
+conversation in which their mottled brown and gray mates joined with
+louder quacks. The geese conversed freely; but the long-necked swans
+held their peace, occupied with the problem of picking to pieces the
+snaps on their anklets.
+
+"Now," said Molly breathlessly, as the last madly protesting bird had
+been stooled, "let's get into the blind as soon as we can, Mr. Marche.
+There may be ducks in Currituck still, and every minute counts now."
+
+So Marche towed the dory around to the westward and drew it into a
+channel where it might lie concealed under the reeds.
+
+When he came across to the blind he found Molly there, seated on the
+plank in the cemented pit behind the screen of reeds and rushes, laying
+out for him his cartridges.
+
+There they were, in neat rows on the rail, fives, sixes, and a few of
+swanshot, ranged in front of him. And his 12-gauge, all ready, save for
+the loading, lay across the pit to his right. So he dropped his booted
+feet into the wooden tub where a foot-warmer lay, picked up the gun,
+slid a pair of sixes into it, laid it beside him, and turned toward Miss
+Herold.
+
+The wool collar of her sweater was turned up about her delicately molded
+throat and face. The wild-rose color ran riot in her cheeks, and her
+eyes, sky tinted now, were wide open under the dark lashes, and the wind
+stirred her hair till it rippled bronze and gold under the edge of her
+shooting hood. She, too, was perfectly ready. A cheap, heavy, and rather
+rusty gun lay beside her; a heap of cheap cartridges before her.
+
+She turned, and, catching Marche's eyes, smiled adorably, with a slight
+nod of comradeship. Then, the smile still faintly curving her lips, she
+crossed her legs in the pit, and, warming her hands in the pockets of
+her coat, leaned back, resting against the rail behind.
+
+"You haven't a foot-warmer," he said.
+
+"I'm not cold--only my fingers--a little--stooling those birds."
+
+They spoke in low voices, under their breath.
+
+He fished from his pocket a flat Japanese hand-warmer, lighted the
+paper-cased punk, snapped it shut, and passed it to her. But she
+demurred.
+
+"You need it yourself."
+
+"No, I'm all right. Please take it."
+
+So she shyly took it, dropped it into her pocket, and rested her
+shapely little hand on it. "How delightful!" she said presently,
+shifting it to the other pocket. "Don't you really need it, Mr. Marche?"
+
+"No. Does it warm you?"
+
+"It is delicious. I _was_ a little chilled." She drew out one bare hand
+and looked at it thoughtfully. Then, with a little sigh, and quite
+unconscious of his gaze, she touched her lips to the wind-roughened
+skin, as though in atonement for her maltreatment of herself.
+
+Even as it now was the shape and beauty of the hand held Marche
+fascinated; it was so small, yet so firm and strong and competent, so
+full of youthful character, such a delicately fashioned little hand,
+and so pathetic, somehow--this woman's hand, with its fineness of
+texture and undamaged purity under the chapped and cruelly bruised,
+tender skin.
+
+She pocketed it again, looking out from under the wind-blown hair
+clustering from the edge of her shooting hood. "Blue-bird weather," she
+said, in her low and very sweet voice. "If no birds swing in by ten
+o'clock we might as well sleep until four."
+
+Marche leaned forward and scanned the water and sky alternately. Nothing
+stirred, save their lazily preening decoys. Uncle Dudley was still
+conversing with his wife at intervals; the swans and the cygnets fed or
+worried their leash snaps; the ducks paddled, or dozed on the stools,
+balanced on one leg.
+
+Far away, on Golden Bar, half a thousand wild geese floated, feeding;
+beyond, like snowflakes dotting the water, a few wild swans drifted.
+There were ducks, too, off Starfish Island again, but nothing flying in
+the blue except a slow hawk or some wandering gull, or now and then an
+eagle--sometimes a mature bird, in all the splendor of white head and
+tail, sometimes a young bird, seemingly larger, and all gray from crest
+to shank.
+
+Once an eagle threatened the decoys, and Uncle Dudley swore so lustily
+at him, and every duck and goose set up such a clamor, that Molly Herold
+picked up her gun for the emergency. But the magnificent eagle, beating
+up into the wind with bronze wings aglisten, suddenly sheered off; and,
+as he passed, Marche could see his bold head turn toward the blind where
+the sun had flashed him its telegraphic warning on the barrel of Molly's
+lifted gun.
+
+"Fine!" he whispered. "Splendid! I'm glad you didn't kill him."
+
+"I'm glad I didn't have to," she said.
+
+"Do you think you could have?"
+
+She turned toward him, wondering whether he might be serious; then
+smiled as he smiled.
+
+At the same instant, coming apparently from nowhere, four canvasbacks
+suddenly appeared over the clamoring decoys, so close in that, as they
+came driving by the blind and rose slightly, wings bowed, Marche could
+almost see their beady little eyes set in the chestnut red of the
+turning heads. Mechanically his gun spoke twice; rap-rap, echoed Miss
+Herold's gun, and splash! splash! down whirled two gray-and-red ducks;
+then a third, uncertain, slowed down, far out beyond the decoys, and
+slanted sideways to the water. The fourth went on.
+
+"Duffer that I am," said Marche good-humoredly. "That was a clean double
+of yours, Miss Herold!--clean-cut work."
+
+She said, slightly knitting her straight brows: "I should have crossed
+two of them and killed the one you missed. I think I'd better get the
+boat."
+
+"No, I'll go out after that kicker," he said, ashamed of his slovenly
+work.
+
+Five minutes later he returned with his kicker and her two ducks--great,
+fat, heavy canvasbacks, beautiful in their red, black, and drab plumage.
+
+"What about blue-bird weather, now?" he laughed.
+
+But she only smiled and said, "I'm very much afraid."
+
+For a long while they sat there, alert behind their wall of rustling
+reeds, watching sky and water. False alarms were not infrequent from
+their decoys. Sometimes the outbreak of quacking and honking was
+occasioned by some wandering gull, sometimes by a circling hawk or some
+eagle loitering in mid-heaven on broad and leisurely wings, reluctant to
+remain, unwilling to go; sometimes to a pair or two of widgeon or
+pintails speeding eastward high in the blue. But the sparkling,
+cloudless hours sped away, and no duck or goose or swan invaded the
+vicinity. Only one sly old black duck dropped into the reeds far back on
+the island; and Marche went after him with serious designs upon his
+fraudulent old life.
+
+When the young man returned, twenty minutes later, perfectly innocent of
+duck murder, he found the girl curled up in her corner of the pit, eyes
+closed, tired little head cradled in the curve of her left arm. She
+waked as he slid into the blind, and smiled at him, pretending not to
+have been asleep.
+
+"Did you get him?"
+
+"No. He went off at two hundred yards."
+
+"Blue-bird weather," she sighed; and again they exchanged smiles. He
+noticed that her eyes had somehow become exceedingly blue instead of the
+clear gray which he had supposed was their color. And, after her brief
+slumber, there seemed to be a sort of dewy freshness about them, and
+about her slightly pink cheeks, which, at that time, he had no idea were
+at all perilous to him. All he was conscious of was a sensation of
+pleasure in looking at her, and a slight surprise in the revelation of
+elements in her which, he began to decide, constituted real beauty.
+
+"That's a quaint expression--'blue-bird weather,'" he said. "It's a
+perfect description of a spring-like day in winter. Is it a local
+expression?"
+
+"Yes--I think so. There's a song about it, along the coast"--she
+laughed uncertainly--"a rather foolish song."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"If I remember"--she hesitated, thinking for a moment, then, with a
+laugh which he thought a little bashful--"it's really too silly to
+repeat!"
+
+"Please sing it!"
+
+"Very well--if you wish."
+
+And in a low, pretty, half-laughing voice, she sang:
+
+  "Quiet sea and quiet sky,
+  Idle sail and anchored boat,
+  Just a snowflake gull afloat,
+  Drifting like a feather--
+  And the gray hawk crying,
+  And a man's heart sighing--
+  That is blue-bird weather:--
+  And the high hawk crying,
+  And a maid's heart sighing
+  Till lass and lover come together,--
+  This is blue-bird weather."
+
+
+She turned her head and looked steadily out across the waste of water.
+"I told you it was silly," she said, very calmly.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+Blue-bird weather continued. Every day for a week Marche and Molly
+Herold put out for Foam Island under summer skies, and with a soft wind
+filling the sail; and in all the water-world there was no visible sign
+of winter, save the dead reeds on muddy islands and the far and wintry
+menace of the Atlantic crashing icily beyond the eastern dunes.
+
+Few ducks and no geese or swans came to the blind. There was nothing
+for them to do except to talk together or sit dozing in the sun. And,
+imperceptibly, between them the elements of a pretty intimacy unfolded
+like spring buds on unfamiliar branches; but what they might develop
+into he did not know, and she had not even considered.
+
+She had a quaint capacity for sleeping in the sunshine while he was away
+on the island prowling hopefully after black ducks. And one morning,
+when he returned to find her asleep at her post, a bunch of widgeon left
+the stools right under her nose before he had a chance to shoot.
+
+She did not awake. The sun fell warmly upon her, searching the
+perfections of the childlike face and throat, gilding the palm of one
+little, sun-tanned hand lying, partly open, on her knee. A spring-like
+wind stirred a single strand of bright hair; lips slightly parted, she
+lay there, face to the sky, and Marche thought that he had never looked
+upon anything in all the world more pure and peaceful.
+
+At noon the girl had not awakened. But something in John B. Marche had.
+He looked in horrified surprise at the decoys, then looked at Molly
+Herold; then he gazed in profound astonishment at Uncle Dudley, who made
+a cryptic remark to the wife of his bosom, and then tipped upside down.
+
+Marche examined the sky and water so carefully that he did not see them;
+then, sideways, and with an increasing sensation of consternation, he
+looked again at the sleeping girl.
+
+His was not even a friendly gaze, now; there was more than dawning alarm
+in it--an irritated curiosity which grew more intense as the seconds
+throbbed out, absurdly timed by a most remarkable obligato from his
+heart.
+
+He gazed stonily upon this stranger into whose life he had drifted only
+a week before, whose slumbers he felt that he was now unwarrantedly
+invading with a mental presumption that scared him; and yet, as often as
+he looked elsewhere, he looked back at her again, confused by the slowly
+dawning recognition of a fascination which he was utterly powerless to
+check or even control.
+
+One thing was already certain; he wanted to know her, to learn from her
+own lips intimately about herself, about her thoughts, her desires, her
+tastes, her aspirations--even her slightest fancies.
+
+Absorbed, charmed by her quiet breathing, fascinated into immobility, he
+sat there gazing at her, trying to reconcile the steadily strengthening
+desire to know her with what he already knew of her--of this sleeping
+stranger, this shabby child of a poor man, dressed in the boots and
+shooting coat of that wretchedly poor man--his own superintendent, a
+sick man whom he had never even seen.
+
+What manner of man could her father be--this man Herold--to have a child
+of this sort, this finely molded, fine-grained, delicate, exquisitely
+made girl, lying asleep here in a wind-stirred blind, with the Creator's
+own honest sun searching out and making triumphant a beauty such as his
+wise and city-worn eyes had never encountered, even under the mercies of
+softened candlelight.
+
+An imbecile repetition of speech kept recurring and even stirring his
+lips, "She'd make them all look like thirty cents." And he colored
+painfully at the crudeness of his obsessing thoughts, angrily, after a
+moment, shaking them from him.
+
+A cartridge rolled from the shelf and splashed into the pit water; the
+girl unclosed her gray eyes, met his gaze, smiled dreamily; then,
+flushing a little, sat up straight.
+
+"Fifteen widgeon went off when I returned to the blind," he said,
+unsmiling.
+
+"I _beg_ your pardon. I am--I am terribly sorry," she stammered, with a
+vivid blush of confusion.
+
+But the first smile from her unclosing eyes had already done damage
+enough; the blush merely disorganized a little more what was already
+chaos in a young man's mind.
+
+"Has--has anything else come in to the stools?" she asked timidly.
+
+"No," he said, relenting.
+
+But he was wrong. Something _had_ come into the blind--a winged,
+fluttering thing, out of the empyrean--and even Uncle Dudley had not
+seen or heard it, and never a honk or a quack warned anybody, or
+heralded the unseen coming of the winged thing.
+
+Marche sat staring out across the water.
+
+"I--am so very sorry," repeated the girl, in a low voice. "Are you
+offended with me?"
+
+He turned and looked at her, and spoke steadily enough: "Of course I'm
+not. I was glad you had a nap. There has been nothing doing--except
+those stupid widgeon--not a feather stirring."
+
+"Then you are not angry with me?"
+
+"Why, you absurd girl!" he said, laughing and stretching out one hand
+to her.
+
+Into her face flashed an exquisite smile; daintily she reached out and
+dropped her hand into his. They exchanged a friendly shake, still
+smiling.
+
+"All the same," she said, "it was horrid of me. And I think I boasted to
+you about my knowledge of a bayman's duties."
+
+"You are all right," he said, "a clean shot, a thoroughbred. I ask no
+better comrade than you. I never again shall have such a comrade."
+
+"But--I am your bayman, not your comrade," she exclaimed, forcing a
+little laugh. "You'll have better guides than I, Mr. Marche."
+
+"Do you reject the equal alliance I offer, Miss Herold?"
+
+"I?" She flushed. "It is very kind of you to put it that way. But I _am_
+only your guide--but it is pleasant to have you speak that way."
+
+"What way?"
+
+"The way you spoke about--your bayman's daughter."
+
+He said, smilingly cool on the surface, but in a chaotic, almost idiotic
+inward condition: "I've sat here for days, wishing all the while that I
+might really know you. Would you care to let me, Miss Herold?"
+
+"Know me?" she repeated. "I don't think I understand."
+
+"Could you and your father and brother regard me as a guest--as a friend
+visiting the family?"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because," he said, "I'm the same kind of a man that you are a girl and
+that your brother is a boy. Why, you know it, don't you? I know it. I
+knew it as soon as I heard you speak, and when your brother came into
+the room that first night with his Latin book, and when I saw your
+mother's picture. So I know what your father must be. Am I not right?"
+
+She lifted her proud little head and looked at him. "We are what you
+think us," she said.
+
+"Then let us stand in that relation, Miss Herold. Will you?"
+
+She looked at him, perplexed, gray eyes clear and thoughtful. "Do you
+mean that you really want me for a friend?" she asked calmly, but her
+sensitive lip quivered a little.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do men make personal friends among their employees? Do they? I ask
+because I don't know."
+
+"What was your father before he came here?" he inquired bluntly.
+
+She looked up, startled, then the color came slowly back to her cheeks.
+"Isn't that a little impertinent, Mr. Marche?"
+
+"Good heavens! Yes, of course it is!" he exclaimed, turning very red.
+"Will you forgive me? I didn't mean to be rude or anything like it! I
+merely meant that whatever reverses have happened to bring such a girl
+as you down into this God-forsaken place have not altered what you were
+and what you are. _Can_ you forgive me?"
+
+"Yes. I'll tell you something. I _wanted_ to be a little more
+significant to you than merely a paid guide. So did Jim. We--it is
+rather lonely for us. You are the first real man who has come into our
+lives in five years. Do you understand, Mr. Marche?"
+
+"Of course I do."
+
+"Are you sure you do? We would like to feel that we could talk to
+you--Jim would. It is pleasant to hear a man from the real world
+speaking. Not that the people here are unkind, only"--she looked up at
+him almost wistfully--"we _are_ like you, Mr. Marche--and we feel
+starved, sometimes."
+
+He did not trust himself to speak, even to look at her, just at the
+moment. Not heretofore sentimental, but always impressionable, he was
+young enough to understand, wise enough not to misunderstand.
+
+After a while, leaning back in the blind, he began, almost casually,
+talking about things in that Northern world which had once been hers,
+assuming their common interest in matters purely local, in details, of
+metropolitan affairs, in the changing physiognomy of the monstrous city,
+its superficial aspects, its complex phases.
+
+Timidly, at first, she ventured a question now and then, and after a
+while, as her reserve melted, she asked more boldly, and even offered
+her own comments on men and things, so that, for the first time, he had
+a glimpse of her mind at work--brief, charming surprises, momentary
+views of a young girl's eager intelligence, visions of her sad and
+solitary self, more guessed at than revealed in anything she said or
+left unsaid.
+
+And now they were talking together with free and unfeigned interest and
+pleasure, scarcely turning for a glance at the water or sky, save when
+old Uncle Dudley made insulting remarks to some slow-drifting gull or
+soaring bird of prey.
+
+All the pent-up and natural enthusiasm of years was fairly bubbling to
+her lips; all the long-suppressed necessity of speech with one of her
+own kind who was not of her own kin.
+
+It seemed as though they conversed and exchanged views on every topic
+which concerned heaven and earth, flashing from one subject to another
+which had nothing at all to do with anything yet discussed.
+
+Out around them the flat leagues of water turned glassy and calm as a
+millpond; the ducks and geese were asleep on their stools; even old
+Uncle Dudley stood sentinel, with one leg buried in the downy plumage of
+his belly, but his weather eye remained brilliantly open to any stir in
+the blue vault above.
+
+[Illustration: "They ate their luncheon there together."]
+
+They ate their luncheon there together, he serving her with hot coffee
+from the vacuum bottle, she plying him with sandwiches.
+
+And now, to her beauty was added an adorable friendliness and
+confidence, free from the slightest taint of self-consciousness or the
+least blemish of coquetry. Intelligent, yet modest to the verge of
+shyness, eager yet reserved, warm hearted yet charmingly impersonal with
+him, he realized that she was finding, with him, only the happiness of
+speech with mankind in the abstract. And so she poured out to him her
+heart, long stifled in the abyss of her isolation; and, gazing into his
+eyes, she was gazing merely toward all that was bright and happy and
+youthful and responsive, and he was its symbol, God-sent from those busy
+haunts of men which already, to her, had become only memories of a
+blessed vision.
+
+And all the while the undercurrent of his own thoughts ran on
+unceasingly: "What can I do for her? I am falling in love--in love,
+surely, hopelessly. What can I do for her--for her brother--her father?
+I am falling in love--in love--in love."
+
+The long, still, sunny afternoon slipped away. Gradually the water
+turned to pearl, inlaid with gold, then with glowing rose. And now, far
+to the north, the first thrilling clangor of wild geese, high in the
+blue, came to their ears, and they shrank apart and lay back, staring
+upward. Nearer, nearer, came the sky trumpets, answering faintly each to
+each--nearer, nearer, till high over the blind swept the misty wedge;
+and old Uncle Dudley flapped his wings and stretched his neck, calling
+up to his wild comrades of earthly delights unnumbered here under the
+shadow of death. And every wild goose answered him, and the decoys
+flapped and clamored a siren welcome; but the flying wedge glided onward
+through the blue.
+
+"They've begun to move," whispered the girl. "But, oh, dear! It is
+blue-bird weather. Hark! Do you hear the swans? I can hear swans coming
+out of the north!"
+
+Marche could not yet hear them, but the tethered swans and geese heard,
+and a magnificent chorus rose from the water. Then, far away as
+fairyland, faintly out of the sky, came a new murmur--not the martial
+clangor of wild geese, but something wilder, more exquisitely
+unearthly--nearer, nearer, enrapturing its weird, celestial beauty. And
+now, through the blue, with great, snowy wings slowly beating, the swans
+passed over like angels; and like angels passing, hailing each other as
+they winged their way, drifting on broad, white pinions, they called,
+each to the other in their sweet, unreal voices, gossiping, garrulous,
+high in the sky. And far away they floated on until they became only a
+silver ribbon undulating against the azure; and even then Marche could
+hear the soft tumult of their calling: Heu! Heu! Hiou! Hiou-oo! until
+sound and snowy flecks vanished together in mid-heaven.
+
+Again, coming from the far north, the trumpets of the sky squadron were
+sounding; they passed, wedge after wedge, sometimes in steady formation,
+sometimes like a wavering band of witches, and again in shifting
+battalions, sternly officered, passing through intricate aërial
+maneuvers, and greeted by Uncle Dudley and the other decoys with wild
+beseeching mixed with applause.
+
+Snowy, angelic companies of swans came alternately with the geese; then
+a whimpering, whispering flight of wild ducks, water-fowl in thousands
+and tens of thousands, rushing onward through the aërial lanes.
+
+But none came to the blind. Occasionally a wedge of geese wavered,
+irresolute at the frantic persuasions of Uncle Dudley, but their leader
+always dragged them back to their course, and the sagging, hesitating
+ranks passed on.
+
+Sometimes, in a nearer flight of swans, some long-necked, snowy creature
+would bend its head to look curiously down at the tethered swans on the
+water, but always they continued on, settling some two miles south of
+Foaming Shoals, until there was half a mile of wild swans afloat there,
+looking like a long, low bank of snow, touched with faintest pink by the
+glow of the westering sun.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+Marche, pacing the shabby sitting room after supper, an unlighted
+cigarette between his fingers, listened to Jim recite his Latin lesson.
+
+"_Atque ea qui ad efeminandos animos pertinent important_," repeated the
+boy; and Marche nodded absently.
+
+"Do you understand what that means, Jim?"
+
+"Not exactly, sir."
+
+Marche explained, then added smilingly: "But there is nothing luxurious
+to corrupt manhood among the coast marshes down here. Barring fever and
+moccasins, Jim, you ought to emerge, some day, into the larger world
+equipped for trouble."
+
+"I shall go out some day," said the boy.
+
+Marche glanced up at the portrait of the boy's mother in its pale-gilt
+oval. Near it, another nail had been driven, and on the faded wall paper
+was an oval discoloration, as though another picture had once hung
+there.
+
+"I wish I might see your father before I go North," said Marche, half to
+himself. "Isn't he well enough to let me talk to him for a few minutes?"
+
+"I will ask him," said the boy.
+
+Marche paced the ragged carpet until the return of Jimmy.
+
+"Father is sorry, and asks you to please excuse him," he said.
+
+Marche had picked up the boy's schoolbook and was looking at the writing
+on the flyleaf again. Then he raised his head, eyes narrowing on the boy
+as though searching for some elusive memory connected with him--with his
+name in the Latin book--perhaps with the writing, which, somehow, had
+stirred in him, once more, the same odd and uncomfortable sensation
+which he had experienced when he first saw it.
+
+[Illustration: "'Jim,' he said, 'where did you live?'"]
+
+"Jim," he said, "where did you live when you lived in New York?"
+
+"In Eighty-seventh Street."
+
+"West?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Do you remember the house--the number?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Was it a private house?"
+
+"I don't know. It was very tall. We lived on one floor and used an
+elevator."
+
+"I see. It was an apartment house."
+
+The boy stood, with blonde head lowered, silently turning over the
+leaves of an old magazine.
+
+Marche walked out to the porch; his brows were bent slightly inward, and
+he bit the end of his unlighted cigarette until the thing became
+useless. Then he flung it away. A few stars watched him above the black
+ramparts of the pines; a gentle wind was abroad, bringing inland the
+restless voice of the sea.
+
+In Marche's mind a persistent thought was groping in darkness, vainly
+striving to touch and awaken memories of things forgotten. What was it
+he was trying to remember? What manner of episode, and how connected
+with this place, with the boy's book, with the portrait of his mother in
+its oval frame? Had he seen that portrait before? Perhaps he had seen it
+here, five years ago; yet that could not be, because Herold had not been
+here then.
+
+Was it the writing on the flyleaf that had stirred some forgotten
+memory? It had seemed to him familiar, somehow--yet not like the
+handwriting in Herold's business letters to him. Yet it _was_ Herold's
+writing--"Jim, from Daddy"--that was the inscription. And that
+inscription had riveted his attention from the first moment he saw it.
+
+Who was Herold? Who was this man whose undoubtable breeding and personal
+cultivation had stamped his children with the same unmistakable
+distinction?
+
+Somehow or other there had been a great fall in the world for him--a
+terrible tumble from higher estate to land him here in this desolation
+of swamp-bound silence--here where only the dark pines broke the vast
+sky line, where the only sound was the far rumor of the sea. Sick,
+probably with coast fever, poor, dependent, no doubt, on the salary
+Marche paid him, isolated from all in the world that made the world
+endurable to intelligence, responsible for two growing children--one
+already a woman--what must be the thoughts of such a man on a night like
+this, for instance?
+
+"I want to see that man," he kept repeating to himself. "I want to see
+him; and I'm going to."
+
+Restless, but now always listening for the sound of a light tread which
+he had come to know so well--alas!--he began to walk to and fro, with
+keen glances toward the illuminated kitchen window every time he passed
+it. Sometimes his mind was chaotic; sometimes clear. The emotions which
+had awakened in him within the week were complex enough to stagger a
+more intelligent man. And Marche was not a fool; he was the typical
+product of his environment--the result of school and college, and a New
+York business life carried on in keenest competition with men as
+remorseless in business as the social code permitted. Also, he went to
+church on Sundays, read a Republican newspaper, and belonged to several
+unexceptionable clubs.
+
+That was the kind of a man he had been only a week ago--a good fellow in
+the usual sense among men, acceptable to women, kind hearted, not too
+cynical, and every idea in his head modeled upon the opinions he heard
+expressed in that limited area wherein he had been born and bred.
+
+That was the kind of a man he had been a week ago. What was he
+now--to-night--here in this waste corner of the world with the light
+from a kitchen window blazing on him as though it were the flashing
+splendor streaming through the barred portals of paradise? Was it
+possible that he, John Benton Marche, could be actually in love--in love
+with the daughter of his own game warden--with a girl who served him at
+supper in apron and gingham, who served him further in hip boots and
+ragged jacket--this modern Rosalind of the marshes, as fresh and
+innocent, as modest and ardent, as she of the Arden glades?
+
+The kitchen door opened, and Molly Herold came down the steps and
+straight toward him, unthinkingly, almost instinctively, laying her
+hands in his as he met her under the leafless China tree in the yard.
+
+"I was longer than usual to-night," she said, "trying to soften my hands
+with that cold cream you so kindly sent for." She lifted them in the
+starlight with a little laugh. "They're a trifle better, I think," she
+said, "but they're always in water, you know, either there," she glanced
+around at the kitchen, "or yonder with the decoys. But thank you all the
+same," she added brightly. "Are you going to have another delightful
+talk, now?"
+
+"Do you care to?"
+
+"Of course. The idea of my not caring to talk to you," she said,
+laughing at the absurdity. "Shall we go into the sitting room, or walk
+in the starlight? There are no snakes out, yet," she assured him,
+"though if this weather holds, the moccasins will come out."
+
+"We'll walk down to the shore," he said.
+
+"One moment, then." She turned and sped to the house, reappearing, after
+a few minutes, wearing her ragged shooting coat.
+
+"Is your father comfortable?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, thank you."
+
+"Do you think he might want you?"
+
+"No. Jim sleeps next to him, and he is preparing for bed, now." She
+smiled. "What a darling my brother is, isn't he, Mr. Marche?"
+
+"He's a fine boy."
+
+They moved on together, down the rutted lane, between dismantled fences
+and ragged, leafless hedges. She was lithe and light and sure footed,
+but once or twice, as they skirted puddles, he supported her; and the
+touch of his hand on her body almost unnerved him. Never had he dreamed
+that contact with any woman could so thrill, so exquisitely shock. And
+every instant he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her. He knew
+it--realized it--made no effort to avoid it, fight it off, control it.
+It was only his speech and manner that he held desperately under bit and
+curb, letting his heart go to everlasting smash and his reason run riot.
+And what on earth would be the end he could not imagine, for he was
+leaving for the North in the morning, and he had not yet told her.
+
+As they came out upon the shore, the dory loomed up, beached, a dark
+silhouette against the starlit water. She laid her hands on the stern
+and vaulted lightly to her perch, sliding along to make room for Marche.
+
+From far away in the sound came the confused murmur of wild fowl
+feeding. Except for that, and the ceaseless monotone of the outer sea,
+there was no sound, not even the lap of water against the bow.
+
+Marche, who had been leaning forward, head bent as though watching the
+water, turned to the girl abruptly. "I want to do something for--Jim,"
+he said.
+
+The girl looked up at him, not understanding.
+
+"Will your father let me?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean."
+
+"I mean that I want to send him to a good school--a good boys' school in
+the North."
+
+She caught her breath, was silent for a moment, then, amazed: "_Would_
+you do that? Oh, I've wished for it--dreamed of it! But--how can you?
+You are so kind--so good to us--but how could we--accept?"
+
+"That's why I want to see your father."
+
+"For _that_! Was it really for that, Mr. Marche?"
+
+"Yes--partly." He swallowed and looked the other way, for the girl's
+excited face was very near his own as she bent forward to search his
+eyes for the least change of expression--bent nearer as though to
+reassure herself that he meant it seriously. For an instant her soft
+breath made the night air fragrant; he felt it, faint and fresh on his
+cheek, and turned sharply, biting his lips lest he lose all
+self-control.
+
+"Could you and your father spare him?" he asked carelessly.
+
+"Oh, if you only would give him that chance!" she cried. "But--tell
+me--_how_ can we accept such a thing of you? Is it possible?"
+
+"Would _you_ accept it?" he asked, turning toward her.
+
+The question startled her. She looked at him, striving to think clearly,
+trying to see this offered miracle through calm, impartial eyes.
+
+"I--I would do anything--almost--for Jim," she said. "I'd have no pride
+left, if his chances lay in the balance. But men--my father--may be
+different."
+
+He said slowly: "Suppose I offered the same chance to you?"
+
+"What!" she said crisply.
+
+"Suppose I offered you a college finishing, Miss Herold. Would you
+accept?"
+
+She slowly grew scarlet under his gaze. "That would be insulting," she
+said, in a low voice.
+
+"Why, when only kindness is meant--as I mean it for Jim?"
+
+"It is not the same. I am a grown woman capable of caring for myself.
+Such an offer, however kindly meant, could only hurt me, humiliate
+me--and--I thought you found me companionable as I am. Friends do not
+offer to better each other--in such a way."
+
+"I have not offered it to you, Miss Herold."
+
+She looked up, still flushed and brilliant eyed; then her face changed
+softly. "I know it. I was foolishly sensitive. I know you couldn't offer
+such a thing to me. But I wish I knew whether we could accept for Jim.
+He is such a darling--so intelligent and perfectly crazy for an
+education. I've saved a little--that's why I wanted you to hire me for
+your bayman. You see I don't spend anything on myself," she added, with
+a blush.
+
+Marche was fighting hard for self-restraint; he was young and romantic,
+and his heart was very full. "What I'd like to do," he said, "would be
+to send Jim to some first-rate school until he is ready for college.
+Then I'd like to see him through college, and, if he cared for it, start
+him with me in business."
+
+"Oh," she cried softly, "is it possible! Is there--can any man really do
+such heavenly things? Have you any idea what you are saying? Do you
+realize what you are doing to me--with every word you utter?"
+
+"What am I doing to--to you?" he asked unsteadily.
+
+"Making me your slave," she said, in a low voice, thrilling with
+generous passion. "Even for the thought--even if father will not
+accept--what you have said to me to-night has put me in your debt
+forever. Truly--truly, I know what friendship is, now."
+
+She clasped her hands tightly and said something else, sweetly
+incoherent; and, in the starlight, Marche saw the tears sparkling on her
+lashes.
+
+With that he sprang nervously to the shore and began to tramp up and
+down the shingle, his mind in a whirl, every sense, common or the
+contrary, clamoring for finality--urging him to tell her the truth--tell
+her that he loved her, that he wanted her--her alone, out of all the
+world of women--that it was for love and for her, and for love of her,
+that he offered anything, did anything, thought anything now under the
+high stars or under the circling sun.
+
+And now, as he tramped savagely to and fro, he realized that he had
+begun wrong; that he should have told her he loved her first of all, and
+then acted, not promised.
+
+Would she look on his offer scornfully, now? Would she see, in what he
+asked of her, a bribe desired for the offer he had made in her brother's
+behalf? She did not love him. How could she, in a week? Never had there
+been even a hint of sentiment between them. What would she think--this
+young girl, so tranquilly confident in her friendship for him--what
+would she think of him and his love? He knew there was nothing
+mercenary or material in her character; he knew she was young, sweet
+tempered, reticent concerning herself, clean hearted, and proud. How
+could he come blundering through the boundaries of her friendship with
+such an avowal, at a moment's notice?
+
+He returned slowly to the boat and stood looking up at her; and he saw
+that she was smiling down at him in the starlight.
+
+"Why did you start off so abruptly and tramp up and down?" she asked.
+
+He looked up at her. "Shall we walk back, now?" he said.
+
+She extended her hands to him, and he swung her to the beach. For a
+moment he retained her hands; she looked at him, smiling, thrilling with
+all that he had said, meeting his eyes frankly and tenderly.
+
+"You are like some glorious magic prince to me," she said, "appearing
+among us here to win our hearts with a word."
+
+"Have I won yours with what I have said?"
+
+"Mine? Oh, don't you know it? Do you think--even if it doesn't come
+true--that I can ever forget what you have wished to do for Jim?"
+
+Still holding her hands, he lifted them, joined her fingers, and laid
+his lips to them. She bent her head and caught her breath in surprise.
+
+"I am going North to-morrow," he said.
+
+For a moment she did not comprehend his words. Then, a trifle dazed, she
+looked up at him. "To-morrow?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you coming back?"
+
+"Perhaps--next year."
+
+"_Next--year!_"
+
+"Do you--find it--a long time?"
+
+Her straight brows bent inward a little, the startled gray eyes became
+clear and steady. "Of course I knew that you must go--some time. But I
+had no idea that it would be so soon. Somehow, I have thought of you as
+being--here----"
+
+"Do you care?"
+
+Her honest eyes widened. "Care?" she repeated.
+
+"Yes. How greatly do you care?"
+
+The straight brows contracted still more as she stood considering
+him--so close that the fresh and subtle youth of her freshened the night
+again with its faint perfume.
+
+Again he touched her hands with his lips, she watching him palely, out
+of clear, gray eyes; then, as they turned away together, he encircled
+her slender waist with his arm.
+
+That she was conscious of it, and not disturbed by it, was part of her
+new mystery to him. Only once, as they walked, when his circling clasp
+tightened, did she rest her own hand over his where it held her body
+imprisoned. But she said nothing; nor had he spoken when the belt of
+pines loomed against the stars once more.
+
+Then, though neither had spoken, they stopped. He turned to face her,
+drew her into his arms, and the beating of his heart almost suffocated
+him as he looked into her eyes, clear, unshrinking eyes of gray, with a
+child's question in their starry depths.
+
+And he answered the question as in a dream: "I love you. I want you for
+my wife. I want you to love me. You are the first woman I have cared
+for. All that you are I want--no more than you are. You, as you are now,
+are all that I care for in the world. Life is young for us both, yet.
+Let us grow up together--if you can love me. Can you?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Can you not care for me a little, Molly?"
+
+"I do. I know--nothing about--love--real love."
+
+"Can you not imagine it, dear?"
+
+"I--it is what I _have_ imagined--a man--like you--coming this way into
+my loneliness. I recognize it. I have dreamed that it was like this.
+What is it that I should do--if this is really to come true?"
+
+"Love me."
+
+"I would--if I knew how. I don't know how," she said wistfully. "My
+heart is so full--already--of your goodness--I--and then this dream I
+have dreamed--that a man like you should come here and say this to
+me----"
+
+"Is it in you to love me?"
+
+"I'll try--if you'll tell me what to do--how to show it--to
+understand----"
+
+He drew her closer, unresisting, and looked deep into her young eyes,
+and kissed them, and then her lips, till they grew warmer and her breath
+came fragrant and uneven.
+
+"Can you love me?"
+
+"Yes," she whispered.
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Y-yes."
+
+For a moment's exquisite silence she rested her flushed face against his
+shoulder, then lifted it, averted, and stepped aside, out of the circle
+of his arms. Head lowered, she stood there, motionless in the starlight,
+arms hanging straight; then, as he came to her, she lifted her proud
+little head and laid both her hands in his.
+
+"Of those things," she said, "that a woman should be to the man she
+loves, and say to that man, I am ignorant. Even how to speak to
+you--now--I do not know. It is all a dream to me--except that, in my
+heart, I know that I do love you. But I think that was so from the
+beginning, and after you have gone away I should have realized it some
+day."
+
+"You darling!" he whispered. Again she surrendered to him, exquisite in
+her ignorance, passive at first, then tremulously responsive. And at
+last her head drooped and fell on his shoulder, and he held her for a
+little longer, then released her.
+
+Trembling, she crept up the stairway to her room, treading lightly
+along the dark entry, dazed, fatigued, with the wonder of it all. Then,
+as she laid her hand on the knob of her bedroom door, the door of her
+father's room opened abruptly.
+
+"Molly?"
+
+"Yes, dear," she answered vaguely.
+
+He stood staring at her on the threshold, fully dressed, and she looked
+back at him, her eyes slightly confused by the light.
+
+"Where have you been?" he said.
+
+"With Mr. Marche."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"To the dory--and back."
+
+"What did he say to you, child?"
+
+She came silently across the threshold and put her arms around his neck;
+and the man lost every atom of his color.
+
+"What did he say?" he repeated harshly.
+
+"That he loves me."
+
+"What!"
+
+"It is true, father."
+
+The man held her at arm's length roughly. "Good God!" he groaned, "how
+long has this been going on?"
+
+"Only to-night. What do you mean, father?"
+
+[Illustration: "'He tells you that he--he is in love with you?'"]
+
+"He tells you that he--he is in love with you? With _you_?" repeated
+Herold unsteadily.
+
+"Yes. It is true, too."
+
+"You mean he asked you to marry him!"
+
+"Yes. And I said I would."
+
+"_You_ love _him_!"
+
+The man's pallor frightened her silent. Then he dropped her arms, which
+he had been clutching, and stood staring at nothing, gnawing at his
+colorless lips.
+
+The girl watched him with dawning terror and finally ventured to speak.
+"Dear, what is the matter? Are you displeased with me? Do you think that
+he is not a man I should care for? You don't know him, dear. You have
+only to see him, to speak with him, hear his voice, look into his
+eyes----"
+
+"Good God!" groaned Herold, closing his sunken eyes. Then, almost
+feeling his way out and along the dark passageway, he descended the
+stairs, heavily.
+
+Marche, cleaning his gun in the sitting-room, looked up in surprise,
+then rose, laying aside stock, fore-end, and barrel, as Herold came into
+the room. The next instant, stepping nearer, he stared into Herold's
+face in silence. And so they met and confronted each other after many
+years.
+
+"Are _you_ Herold?" said the young man, in a low voice.
+
+"That is my name--now."
+
+"_You_ have been in my employment--for five years?"
+
+"Yes. Judge Gilkins gave me the chance. I could not suppose that the
+club would ever become your property."
+
+The younger man's face hardened. "But when it did become my property,
+why had you the indecency to stay?"
+
+"Where else could I go?"
+
+"You had the whole world to--operate in."
+
+Herold's thin face flushed. "It was fitter that I should work for you,"
+he said. "I have served you faithfully for five years."
+
+"And unfaithfully for ten! Wasn't it enough that Vyse and I let you go
+without prosecuting you? Wasn't it enough that we pocketed our loss for
+your wife's sake?"
+
+He checked himself in a flash of memory, turned, and looked at the
+picture on the wall. Now he knew, now he understood why his former
+associate's handwriting had seemed familiar after all these years.
+
+And suddenly he remembered that this man was Jim's father--and the
+father of the young girl he was in love with; and the shock drove every
+drop of blood out of his heart and cheeks. Ghastly, staring, he stood
+confronting Herold; and the latter, leaning heavily, shoulder against
+the wall, stared back at him.
+
+"I could have gone on working for you," he said, "trying to save enough
+to make restitution--some day. I _have_ already saved part of it. Look
+at me--look at my children--at the way we live, and you'll understand
+how I have saved. But I _have_ saved part of what I took. I'll give you
+that much before you go--before I go, too."
+
+His breath came heavily, unevenly; he cleared his eyes with a
+work-stained hand, fashioned for pens and ledgers.
+
+"You were abroad when I--did what I did. Vyse was merciless. I told him
+I could put it back if he'd give me the chance. But a thief was a thief
+to him--particularly when his own pocket was involved. He meant to send
+me to prison. The judge held him--he was his father-in-law--and he was
+an old man with a wife and children of his own."
+
+Herold was silent for a moment, and his gaze became vague and remote,
+then he lifted his head sharply:
+
+"A man makes one slip like that and the world damns him forever. And I
+tell you, Marche, that I am not dishonest by nature or in my character.
+God alone knows why I took those securities, meaning, of course, to
+return them, as all the poor, damned fools do mean when they do what I
+did. But Vyse made it a condition that I was to leave the country, and
+there was no chance of restitution unless I could remain in New York and
+do what I knew how to do--no chance, Marche--and so fortune ebbed, and
+my wife died, and the old judge saw me working on the water-front in
+Norfolk one day, and gave me this place. That is all."
+
+"Why did you feign illness?" asked Marche, in an altered voice.
+
+"You know why."
+
+"You thought I'd discharge you?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+Marche stepped nearer. "Why did you come to me here to-night?"
+
+Herold flushed deeply. "It was your right to know--and my daughter's
+right--before she broke her heart."
+
+"I see. You naturally suppose that I would scarcely care to marry the
+daughter of a----" He stopped short, and Herold set his teeth.
+
+"Say it," he said, "and let this end matters for all of us. Except that
+I have saved seven thousand dollars toward--what I took. I will draw you
+a check for it now."
+
+He walked steadily to the table, laid out a thin checkbook, and with his
+fountain-pen wrote out a check for seven thousand dollars on a Norfolk
+bank.
+
+"There you are, Marche," he said wearily. "I made most of it buying and
+selling pine timber in this district. It seemed a little like expiation,
+too, working here for you, unknown to you. I won't stay, now, of course.
+I'll try to pay back the rest--little by little--somehow."
+
+"The way to pay it back," said Marche, "is to do the work you are fitted
+for."
+
+Herold looked up. "How can I?"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I could not go back to New York. I have no money to go with, even if I
+could find a place for myself again."
+
+"Your place is open to you."
+
+Herold stared at him.
+
+Marche repeated the assertion profanely. "Damnation," he said, "if you'd
+talked this way to me five years ago, I'd never have stood in your way.
+All I heard of the matter was what Vyse told me. I'm not associated with
+him any more; I'll stand for his minding his own affairs. The thing for
+you to do, Courtney, is to get into the game again and clean up what you
+owe Vyse. Here's seven thousand; you can borrow the rest from me. And
+then we'll go into things again and hustle. It was a good combination,
+Courtney--we'd have been rich men--except for the slip you made. Come on
+in with me again. Or would you rather continue to inhabit your own
+private hell?"
+
+"Do you know what you are saying, Marche?" said the other hoarsely.
+
+"Sure, I do. I guess you've done full time for a first offense. Clean
+off the slate, Courtney. You and Vyse and I know it--nobody
+else--Gilkins is dead. Come on, man! That boy of yours is a corker! I
+love him--that little brother, Jim, of mine; and as for--Molly----" His
+voice broke and he turned sharply aside, saying: "It's certainly
+blue-bird weather, Courtney, and we all might as well go North. Come out
+under the stars, and we'll talk it over."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was almost dawn when they returned. Marche's hand lay lightly on
+Courtney's shoulder for a moment, as they parted.
+
+Above, as Courtney stood feeling blindly for his door, Molly's door
+swung softly ajar, and the girl came out in her night-dress.
+
+"Father," she whispered, "is it all right?"
+
+"All right, thank God, little daughter."
+
+"And--I may care for him?"
+
+"Surely--surely, darling, because he is the finest specimen of manhood
+that walks this merciless earth."
+
+"I knew it," she whispered gaily. "If you'll lend me your wrapper a
+moment, I'll go to his door and say good-night to him again."
+
+Her father looked at her, picked up his tattered dressing-gown from his
+bed, and wrapped her in it to the chin, then kissed her forehead.
+
+So she trotted away to Marche's door and tapped softly; and when he
+came and opened the door, she put her arms around his neck and kissed
+him.
+
+"Good night," she whispered. "I do love you, and I shall pray all night
+that I may be everything that you would wish to have me. Good night,
+once more--dearest of men--good night."
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-BIRD WEATHER***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 24389-8.txt or 24389-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/3/8/24389
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://www.gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+