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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Pines of Lory, by John Ames Mitchell,
+Illustrated by Albert D. Blashfield
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Pines of Lory
+
+
+Author: John Ames Mitchell
+
+
+
+Release Date: December 4, 2009  [eBook #30600]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PINES OF LORY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 30600-h.htm or 30600-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30600/30600-h/30600-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30600/30600-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "It is no gardener's cottage"]
+
+THE PINES OF LORY
+
+by
+
+J. A. MITCHELL
+
+Author of "Amos Judd," "That First Affair," "Gloria Victis," etc.
+
+Decorations by Albert D. Blashfield
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+New York
+Life Publishing Company
+1901
+
+Copyright, 1901
+By J. A. Mitchell
+New York City
+
+Entered at Stationers' Hall, London
+
+Printed in the United States
+
+All rights reserved
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+ALL LOVERS OF LOVERS
+
+AND LOVERS OF OUT-OF-DOOR THINGS
+
+AND MILDER FORMS OF
+
+FOLLY
+
+THIS BOOK
+
+IS AFFECTIONATELY
+
+DEDICATED
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration:
+  There is a pleasure in the pathless wood,
+  There is a rapture on the lonely shore._Byron_.]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A RELIC FROM AFRICA
+
+
+The _Maid of the North_ was ready for sea.
+
+Only the touch of the engineer was wanting to send her, once again, on a
+homeward voyage to the St. Lawrence. Meanwhile, in solemn undertones,
+she was breathing forth her superabundant steam.
+
+Behind the wharf lay the city of Boston.
+
+A score of passengers, together with friends who had come aboard to see
+them off, were scattered about the little steamer. Among them, on the
+after deck, indifferent to the hot June sun, moved a gentleman of
+aristocratic mien. His raiment was above reproach. He gave the
+impression of being a distinguished person. But this impression was
+delusive, his distinction being merely social. He was too well provided
+for, too easily clever and in too many ways, to achieve renown in any
+field requiring serious labor.
+
+He inhaled the salt air as it came in from the sea, took out his watch,
+scanned the wharf, picked a thread from his sleeve, and twirled,
+somewhat carefully, the ends of a yellow moustache. His glance moved
+indifferently over various passengers and things about him until it
+rested on a man, not far away. The man was leaning against the railing
+of the deck watching the scene upon the wharf below.
+
+The extreme attenuation of this person had already rendered him an
+object of interest to several passengers. His clothing hung loosely from
+his shoulders. Both coat and vest were far too roomy for the body
+beneath, while the trousers bore no relation to his legs. But the
+emaciated face, deeply browned by exposure, told a story of hardship and
+starvation rather than of ordinary sickness. Two thin, dark hands that
+rested on the ship's rail seemed almost transparent.
+
+The aristocratic gentleman regarded this person with increasing
+interest. He approached the railing himself and furtively studied the
+stranger's profile. Then, with an expression in his face less blase than
+heretofore, he approached the man and stood behind him. Laying a hand on
+one of the shoulders to prevent his victim turning, he said:
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir, but could you tell me the name of this town?"
+
+There was a short silence. Then the stranger answered, in a serious
+tone, and with no effort to see his questioner:
+
+"This is Boston, the city of respectability--and other delights."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"It is also the home of a man who doesn't seem to have matured with the
+passing years."
+
+"Well, who is that man?"
+
+"A fellow that might have been a famous tenor if he had a voice--and
+some idea of music."
+
+The other man laughed, removed his hand, and his friend turned about.
+Then followed a greeting as between old intimates, long separated. And
+such was the mutual pleasure that a neighboring spectator, many years
+embittered by dyspepsia, so far forgot himself as to allow a smile of
+sympathy to occupy his face.
+
+The countenance of the attenuated person was unusual; not from any
+peculiarity of feature, but from its invincible cheerfulness. This
+cheerfulness was constitutional, and contagious. His face seemed nearly
+ten years younger than it was; for the unquenchable good-humor having
+settled there in infancy had thwarted the hand of time. No signs of
+discouragement, of weariness or worry had gained a footing. There were
+no visible traces of unwelcome experience. While distinctly a thoughtful
+face, good-humor and a tranquil spirit were the two things most clearly
+written. His eyes were gray--frank, honest, mirthful, with little
+wrinkles at the corners when he smiled.
+
+After many questions had been asked and answered, the more pretentious
+gentleman laid a hand affectionately on the other's arm, and said:
+
+"But what has happened to you, Pats? How thin you are! You look like a
+ghost--a mahogany ghost."
+
+"Fever. A splendid case of South African fever."
+
+"Too bad! Are you well over it?"
+
+"Yes, over the fever; but still tottery. My strength has not come home
+yet. And the lead was a set back."
+
+"You mean bullets?"
+
+"Yes. I caught two, but they are both out. I am getting along all right
+now."
+
+"And you have just reached America?"
+
+"Landed in New York yesterday; got here this morning at half-past seven,
+found my family were up on the St. Lawrence, and here I am. But what are
+you doing on this boat?"
+
+"Oh, I just came down to see somebody off."
+
+An excess of indifference in the manner of this reply did not escape the
+friend from Africa. With a sidelong glance at his companion, he said, "A
+man, of course."
+
+"How clever you are, Pats!"
+
+"No need of being clever, Billy, when you advertise your secret by
+blushing like a girl of fifteen."
+
+"Blush! I, blush! How old do you think I am? Ten?"
+
+"Yes all of that. But if you didn't actually blush, old man, you did
+look foolish. And this explains a state-room full of flowers that I
+noticed. Is that _her_ bower?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+"Well, who is she, Billy? You might as well tell me, for I shall be sure
+to discover if she goes on this boat."
+
+"Elinor Marshall."
+
+"Elinor Marshall? Why, that name is familiar. Where have I heard it?"
+
+"She is a friend of your sisters."
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"And she is going to your place now, on a visit."
+
+"Good! I'll cut you out. Is she fond of bones?"
+
+Mr. William Townsend did not answer, but he looked at his watch. "She
+ought to be here now. The boat sails at ten-thirty, doesn't it?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It's ten, now. I shall trot you up as soon as she arrives."
+
+"Thanks. You will excuse my asking a cruel question, old man, but you
+certainly did not send _all_ the flowers in that cabin?"
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"Then there are other--appreciators?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Patrick Boyd, with a slight gesture toward two carefully attired
+gentlemen who were pacing the wharf, raised his eyebrows
+interrogatively.
+
+His companion smiled. "Yes. She can also have either of them, and
+without the asking."
+
+The attenuated man regarded the two gentlemen with interest. "That chap
+has a familiar face."
+
+"Which? The one with the bouquet?"
+
+"No; the one with the nose."
+
+"That's Hamilton Goddard."
+
+"To be sure! And I should know his friend was a lover. His anxious
+glances up the wharf, and those flowers give him away. Such roses are
+for no aunt or sister."
+
+"Better for him if they were!"
+
+"Why? No chance?"
+
+"Well, that is not for me to say. But he is one of those fearfully
+earnest chaps, with a tragic soul, and a rebuff would be a dangerous
+thing for him."
+
+"Poor devil!"
+
+And the man of cheerful countenance slowly wagged his head, as he added,
+in a sympathetic voice, "This being in love seems a painful pleasure."
+
+Mr. William Townsend regarded his friend with half-shut eyes, and asked,
+"Are you still the superior person who defies the--the malady?"
+
+"Even so."
+
+"You never had it?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"How old are you?"
+
+"Thirty."
+
+"Then it's a lie."
+
+"It's the truth. Of course I have known very fine girls who caused the
+usual thrills, whose conservatory kisses I should never undervalue. But
+when it comes to the fatuous delirium--the celestial idiocy that queers
+the brain and impairs the vision--why, I have been unlucky, that's all."
+
+"You are a liar, Pats. Just a liar."
+
+"Mumps have been mine, and measles; and I have fooled with grape juice,
+but that other drunkenness has been denied me."
+
+His companion's grunt of incredulity was followed by the exclamation:
+
+"There she comes!"
+
+The two men below had halted, wheeled about, and were watching an
+approaching carriage. Down the wharf with this equipage came an
+atmosphere of solidity and opulence, of luxury and perfect taste. On the
+box, in quiet livery, sat a driver and a footman. The driver, from his
+bearing and appearance, could easily have passed for the president of a
+college. As the carriage halted before the gang plank, the gentleman
+with the nose stepped forward and opened the door, while he of the roses
+stood by with a radiant visage, his hat in one hand, his offering in the
+other.
+
+First, emerged an elderly gentleman, tall, slender, and acutely
+respectable. After him, a girl descended, also tall and slender. She was
+followed by a maid, and a Catholic priest. As the young lady stood for a
+moment conversing with the two admirers, her glance, in running over the
+little steamer, encountered Mr. Townsend, and she nodded pleasantly.
+
+"Lovely! Enchanting!" murmured the man from Africa.
+
+"Of course she is! Come down, and I'll present you."
+
+"But, first, tell me something about her. What are the interesting
+facts?"
+
+"Why, there's nothing to tell--that I can think of."
+
+"Of course there is! There must be! Women like that don't bloom in every
+garden. What a patrician type! And all that black hair! She is unusual."
+
+"Well, she _is_ unusual, Pats. She is a splendid girl,--an orphan;
+and she is giving her fortune all away."
+
+"The devil! And to whom?"
+
+"To philanthropy; to societies for the advancement of woman; to
+hospitals and other bottomless pits. But above all to the Catholic
+Church."
+
+"Too bad! She doesn't look so unintelligent."
+
+"No: and she is not. Her mother and sister, all that remained of her
+family, were both drowned in the same accident, and the shock upset her
+for a time."
+
+"And it was then the Church got in its work? That explains the Holy
+Roman Cherub who seems to be along."
+
+"Yes; that's Father Burke. He is a part of the comedy."
+
+"Comedy! It's a blood-curdling drama! Hasn't she a brother or some
+relative to reach out a hand and save her?"
+
+"She doesn't care to be saved. She is one of those women with a
+conscience. A big one: the sort that becomes a disease unless taken in
+time."
+
+"I know. She feels guilty if she's happy. But she doesn't look all that.
+She seems a trifle earnest, perhaps, but very human, and with real blood
+in her veins."
+
+Mr. Townsend sighed--a long, deep sigh that seemed to come from below
+his waist. "Yes, she was mighty good company and rather jolly before the
+vultures closed in on her."
+
+"Is she really in the coils of the anaconda?"
+
+"I am afraid so. She won't talk about it herself,--at least, not with
+Protestants,--but some of her friends say she thinks of going into a
+convent."
+
+"Well," said Patrick Boyd, with a sudden warmth, as they turned to go
+below, "all I can say is, that the institution, sacred or secular, that
+tries to lure such a girl into a convent ought to be hustled into
+space."
+
+"Amen to that!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+ II
+
+FROTH OF THE SEA
+
+
+An hour later, as the _Maid of the North_ was steaming for the
+open sea, the man from Africa and his new acquaintance formed a group on
+the after deck.
+
+The day was a rare one, even for early June. Across the surface of the
+water--now a sparkling, joyful blue--the air came free and full of life.
+This air was exhilarating. It inspired Father Burke to tell a funny
+anecdote, and he did it well. For not only did Father Burke possess a
+sense of humor, but his heavy, benevolent face, white hair, and deep
+voice gave unusual impressiveness to whatever he chose to utter. Even
+Mr. Appleton Marshall, a victim of acute Bostonia, eluded for a time his
+own self-consciousness. He soon went below, however, to revel,
+undisturbed, in a conservative local paper. Mr. Patrick Boyd,--or Pats,
+as we may as well call him,--being always of a buoyant spirit, added
+liberally to the general cheer.
+
+The young lady regarded this addition to her party with a peculiar
+interest. She knew that the mention of his name in his own family was
+for years a thing forbidden. Just how bad he was, or how innocent, she
+had never learned. And now, as she studied, furtively, this exile of
+uncertain reputation, and as she recognized the open nature, the
+fortitude, the tranquil spirit, all unmistakably written in his
+emaciated, sunburnt face, her curiosity was quickened. She knew that
+Sally, his elder sister,--her own intimate friend,--had persisted in a
+correspondence with her brother against her father's wishes. And that,
+perhaps, was in his favor. At least, he had a good mouth and honest
+eyes. His neck, his hands, and his legs were preternaturally thin, and
+she wondered if the gap between his collar and his throat told a
+truthful story of South African fever. If so, the change had been
+appalling. However, neither bullets nor fever had reduced his spirits.
+
+The conversation touched on many things. When she happened to say that
+this was her first visit to the Boyds' Canadian house, he replied:
+
+"And mine too."
+
+"Have you never seen it?" she asked in surprise.
+
+"Never. My father bought this place about ten years ago, and I have been
+away over thirteen years."
+
+"I had forgotten you had been away so long."
+
+With a smile and a slight inclination of his head, he replied:
+
+"That you should know of my existence is a flattering surprise. Any
+mention of my name, I understand, was a state's prison offence until my
+father died."
+
+"Not quite so bad as that."
+
+"A man's fame is not apt to flourish when corked up in a bottle and laid
+away in a closet, with 'Poison' on the label."
+
+Here was a chance to gratify a natural curiosity, and he seemed willing
+to throw light on the mystery. She was about to offer the necessary
+encouragement, when Father Burke took the conversation into less
+personal fields. It may have been the contagion of this young man's
+cheerfulness, or the reaction on the lady's part from an acute religious
+tension, but the priest had noticed Miss Marshall was awakening to a
+livelier enjoyment of her surroundings. The spontaneity and freedom of
+her laughter, on one or two occasions, had caused him a certain
+uneasiness. Not that Father Burke was averse to merriment. Too much of
+it, however, for this particular maiden and at this critical period,
+might cause a divergence from the Holy Roman path along which he now was
+escorting her. So he gave some interesting facts concerning this summer
+residence of the Boyds, winding up with the information that the hunting
+and fishing, all about there, were unusual.
+
+"But we women cannot hunt and fish all day!"
+
+"Perhaps it's like Heaven," said Pats, "where there's nothing to do
+except to realize what a good time you are having."
+
+"I hope that is not your idea of a woman's ambition."
+
+"What better business on a summer's day?"
+
+"Many things," replied the priest, "if she has a soul to expand and a
+mind to cultivate."
+
+"But I was speaking of the natural, unvarnished woman we all enjoy and
+are not afraid of."
+
+Miss Marshall, in a politely contemptuous manner, inquired, "Then,
+personally, you find the intelligent woman of high ideals less congenial
+than--the other kind?"
+
+"I find the superior woman with a gift of language is a thing that makes
+brave men tremble. I think wisdom should be tempered with mercy."
+
+After a pause, and with a touch of sarcasm, she replied:
+
+"That is quite interesting. A fresh point of view always broadens the
+horizon."
+
+Ignoring her tone, he answered in an off-hand, amiable way:
+
+"Of course there is no reason why a woman should not enter politics or
+anything else, if she wishes. And there is no reason why a rose should
+not aspire to be a useful potato. But potatoes will always be cheaper
+than roses."
+
+She smiled wearily and leaned back. As their eyes met he detected a look
+of disappointment--perhaps at her discovery of yet one more man like all
+the others, earthy and superficial. But she merely said, and in a gentle
+tone:
+
+"You forget that while all men are wise, all women are not beautiful."
+
+With a deep sigh he replied, "The profundity of your contempt I can only
+guess at. Whatever it is, I share it. We are a poor lot.
+
+  "'At thirty, man suspects himself a fool;
+  Knows it at forty, and reforms his plan.'
+
+Which is all true except the last line."
+
+She smiled. "You are too severe. I consider man the highest form of
+animal life--after the dog and the elephant."
+
+"Then where does woman come in?"
+
+"Oh--as man's satellite she is hard to place. Her proper position might
+be anywhere between the peacock and the parrot."
+
+Pats shook his head, slowly and sadly. "That's an awful utterance!"
+
+"But it enables you to realize her vanity in aspiring to the wisdom of
+man."
+
+Father Burke laughed. "Fighting the Boer, Captain Boyd, is a different
+thing from skirmishing with the American girl."
+
+"Indeed it is! For on the battle-field there is always one chance of
+victory. But I have not been fighting the Boers. I was trying to help
+the Boers against the English."
+
+"Ah, good!" said the priest. "You were on the right side."
+
+But the lady shook her head. "I don't know about that. I should have
+joined the English and fought against the Boers."
+
+"But, my dear child," exclaimed Father Burke, "the cause of the Boers is
+so manifestly the cause of right and justice! They were fighting for
+their freedom,--the very existence of their country."
+
+"Possibly, but the English officers are very handsome, and so stylish!
+And the Boers are common creatures--mostly farmers."
+
+Pats regarded her in surprise. "That doesn't affect the principle of the
+thing. Even a farmer has rights."
+
+"Principles are so tiresome!" and she looked away, as if the subject
+wearied her.
+
+"Does it make no difference with your sympathies," he asked with some
+earnestness, "whether a man is in the right or in the wrong? Would you
+have had no sympathy for the Greeks at Marathon?"
+
+She raised her eyebrows, and with a faint shrug replied, "I am sure I
+don't know. Was that an important battle?"
+
+"Very."
+
+"In South Africa?"
+
+Pats thought, at first, this question was in jest. She looked him
+serenely in the face, however, and he saw nothing in her eyes but the
+expectation of a serious answer to a simple question. Before he was
+ready with a reply, she inquired:
+
+"Were you at that battle?"
+
+He was so bewildered by this question, and from such a woman, that for a
+moment he could not respond. Father Burke, however, in his calm,
+paternal voice, gave the required facts.
+
+"The battle of Marathon was fought about twenty miles from Athens
+between the Greeks and invading Persians nearly five hundred years
+before Christ."
+
+"Ah, yes, to be sure!" she murmured, indifferently, her eyes looking
+over the sea.
+
+Pats, who was sitting in front of his two companions, regarded her in
+surprise. As she finished speaking, he turned away his head, but still
+watching her from the corners of his eyes. Her own glance, with an
+amused expression, went at once to his face, as he anticipated. He
+laughed aloud in a frank, boyish way as their eyes met. "I knew you had
+some sinister motive in that speech. You almost fooled me."
+
+And she smiled as she retorted, "I was merely trying to please you. You
+say you are averse to intelligence in a woman."
+
+"Well, I take it all back. I am averse to nothing in a woman, except
+absence."
+
+Father Burke took all this in, and he disapproved. Captain Boyd was by
+no means the sort of man he would have selected for companion to this
+maiden. The young man's appreciation of the lady herself was too honest
+and too evident. It bore, to the observant priest, suspicious
+resemblance to a tender passion unskilfully concealed. Perilous food for
+a yearning spirit! Of course she was heavenly minded, and spiritual to
+the last degree, at present; but she was mortal. And the soul of a girl
+like Elinor Marshall was too precious an object to be thrown away on a
+single individual--above all, on a Protestant. Was it not already the
+property of The Church? And then, there was little consolation in the
+knowledge that she was to be in constant intercourse with this man for a
+week, and during that time beyond all priestly influence.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+The _Maid of the North_, until she passed Deer Island, bore a
+cheerful band of passengers. Then, in the open sea, she turned her nose
+a little more to the north, and while riding the waves as merrily as
+ever, she did it with a greater variety of motion. And this variety of
+motion, a complex, unhallowed shifting of the deck, first sidewise down,
+then lengthwise up, then all together and further down--with a
+nauseating quiver--was emphasized by zephyrs from the engine-room and
+kitchen--zephyrs redolent with oil and cooking and bilge water. All
+these, in time, began to trifle with the interiors of certain
+passengers, and to paralyze their mirth.
+
+Among early victims was Mr. Appleton Marshall. After storing his mind
+with the financial news and social gossip of the morning paper, he had
+rejoined his friends. Sitting beside his niece, he participated, at
+intervals, in the conversation, his manner becoming more and more
+distant until, at last, it vanished altogether. To all who cared to see,
+it was plain that this stately and usually complacent gentleman was
+losing interest in external matters.
+
+He seemed annoyed when a steward, about one o'clock, appeared on deck
+and rang a bell, announcing dinner. At this summons Patrick Boyd took
+out his watch and was obviously astonished at the flight of time.
+
+"I had forgotten my friend," he exclaimed, and he hurried below.
+
+At the dinner-table Elinor Marshall sat between her confessor and her
+uncle, the latter clinging bravely to his post through the soup and
+fish. Then, after watching for a moment the various viands as they rose
+and fell with the heaving of the ship, accompanied, as it seemed to him,
+by a similar rising and sinking of his own digestive apparatus, he
+remarked, with some severity, that he felt no hunger. And he left the
+table with dignity, yet with a certain expedition. As the uncle
+disappeared, Patrick Boyd came in and took a seat opposite the lady and
+the priest.
+
+"How did you find your friend?" Father Burke inquired.
+
+"Discouraged."
+
+"Poor fellow! Nothing serious, I hope."
+
+"No. But he doesn't quite understand this starting right off again on
+another voyage."
+
+"Is he--er--is his mind affected?"
+
+This question appeared to surprise Captain Boyd. "No. But they have
+fastened him to a windlass, near the engine-room, and he resents it."
+
+This reply merely intensified the curiosity of the questioner.
+
+"Did you say they have fastened him?"
+
+"Yes. It seems to be a rule of the boat."
+
+The young lady also opened her eyes. After a pause, she inquired, in a
+low voice, "Is he dangerous?"
+
+"No, indeed! Not at all!"
+
+"Then why tie him?"
+
+"It is a rule of the boat, as I said."
+
+"A rule of the boat to tie passengers?"
+
+At this question Pats smiled, for a light broke in upon him. "My friend
+is a dog. I thought I told you."
+
+"A dog!" and she seemed to find diversion in the seriousness with which
+Father Burke accepted the explanation. "I love dogs. Why shouldn't I go
+down and see him?"
+
+"The honor would be appreciated."
+
+"I will go after dinner. What sort of a dog is he?"
+
+"A setter."
+
+"And what is his name?"
+
+Pats hesitated. "Do you really wish to know?"
+
+"Of course!"
+
+"Well, his full name is Jan Bartholomeus Van Vlotens Couwenhorn Van der
+Helst Poffenburgh."
+
+"Then he is Dutch."
+
+"Yes. He was the property of four officers, and each owner bestowed a
+portion of his name."
+
+"What do you call him for short?"
+
+"Solomon."
+
+"Solomon!"
+
+"At first we called him Jan, but the other three sponsors objected. They
+said it was favoritism. So we all agreed on Solomon for every day use."
+
+"And he never resented it?"
+
+"No. He understood it as a tribute to his extraordinary wisdom."
+
+She seemed amused. "Is he so very remarkable?"
+
+"Well," said Pats, laying down his knife and fork, and giving his whole
+attention to the subject, "as to general intelligence, foresight, logic,
+and a knowledge of human nature, he is a wonder, even for a dog. And
+when it comes to dignity and tact, ease of manner and freedom from
+personal vanity, why--the other Solomon was a beginner."
+
+She nodded and smiled approval. "I know something of dogs and men, and I
+can easily believe it. Certain men exist, however, who are mentally
+superior to dogs. But it's the moral gulf between the two species that
+is so disheartening."
+
+"All owing to the fatal power of speech."
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"I am sure of it. If dogs could talk, they would abuse the power, as
+humans do, and soon descend to the human level. They would lose the
+dignity that silence alone bestows, and become bores--like the rest of
+us." With a deferential movement of his head toward the priest, he
+added, "Except as they apply to myself, these remarks are in no way
+personal."
+
+As Father Burke, with a perfunctory smile, bowed acknowledgment, the
+girl at his side inquired, with a serious face, "Well, what can be
+done?"
+
+Pats, with equal seriousness, replied, "How would it do to establish an
+institute for the propagation of silence?"
+
+"The millennium would be in sight!" she exclaimed.
+
+"And instead of rhetoric and declamation teach economy in words; show
+the pupils by illustration and example how much better they look when
+their mouths are not open."
+
+"A very sensible idea! And award medals to those who attain the highest
+flights of silence."
+
+"The very thought is restful," said Pats. "And would you mind if I
+offered Solomon a professorship?"
+
+"Not at all! It would look rather well in the catalogue, 'Solomon Boyd,
+Instructor in Moral Philosophy and Deportment.'"
+
+With a glance at the mirthless face of the reverend gentleman beside
+her, she added, "And on the dome of the college shall be a colossal
+statue of Father Burke, in solid gold. He has not uttered a word in half
+an hour."
+
+The priest answered pleasantly, but the tone of the conversation had
+given him little pleasure. Folly was in the air, and Elinor Marshall, to
+his surprise, seemed in harmony with it. Heretofore he had known her as
+a thoughtful, serious-minded woman, with a leaning to melancholy; and
+this unexpected and evidently enjoyable flight--or plunge--into pure
+nonsense, caused him a distinct uneasiness. The girl was brightening up,
+even becoming merry; a state of mind that never leads to a nunnery.
+
+In this conversation, which ran on with rare intervals of seriousness
+until the meal was ended, Father Burke took no part. And when the
+younger people had gone below for their interview with Solomon, he
+decided, after long reflection, that considering the gravity of the case
+his obvious duty was to drop a word in the lady's ear concerning this
+new acquaintance. The rest of the Boyds--the two sisters--were good
+Catholics, and from them there was nothing to fear. But if he, Father
+Burke, could counteract the influence of this interesting heretic, it
+would be a pious work. He must find his opportunity for an earnest
+conversation, and before she landed.
+
+The more he meditated, the more anxious he became. But Fate, the
+practical joker,--the fickle, the ruthless, the forever mocking,--was
+only waiting to lay his enemy at his feet.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+A FOOL AT THIRTY
+
+
+Toward the end of that day it became evident, in the west, that
+preparations were going on for an American sunset. Preliminary colors,
+chiefly gold and crimson, crept swiftly across the sky. These colors,
+more dazzling as the sun approached the water, were caught and tossed
+about upon the surface of the sea until all the universe seemed ablaze.
+
+Of this gorgeous spectacle Elinor Marshall, in a sheltered corner of the
+deck, was an appreciative witness.
+
+Pats, in his mercy, had decided to allow the lady a respite from his
+society, at least during a portion of the afternoon. The lady, however,
+was so much more interesting than anything else aboard that he finally
+ignored his better judgment. And now, leaning against the rail in front
+of her, he found the sunset duller, more monotonous and commonplace than
+the human combination in the steamer-chair. She, however, her head
+thrown back, with half-closed eyes, seemed fascinated by the glories in
+the west, and almost unconscious of his presence. As too much staring
+might cause annoyance, he did most of it on the sly. And the opportunity
+was good. As a mystery, she proved an absorbing study: an irresistible
+blending of contradictions, of sympathy and reserve, of sadness--and of
+wit--of a character and temperament not half-divulged. Whenever their
+eyes met, he felt a mild commotion, a curious, unfamiliar
+excitement,--something that made him less at ease. For it invariably
+brought the keenest anxiety as to her good opinion. He also experienced
+a consciousness of guilt; why, he knew not, unless from the expression
+of her eyes. They seemed to be reading his thoughts, and to be a trifle
+saddened by the result. That, in itself, was disconcerting.
+
+He began to see why those other fellows were in love with her. Although
+fireproof himself, he understood, now that he knew her better, the
+nature of the conflagration that devoured the men in Boston.
+
+In her sensitive face, in her reserve, and in her sometimes melancholy
+air, he saw traces of inward struggles between a passionate, impulsive,
+pleasure-loving nature and standards of virtue unattainably high. And
+when he remembered that she was doomed to the seclusion of a convent,
+that this life, with every promise of being exceptionally rich and full,
+was to be crushed, deadened and forever lost to the outer human world,
+his resentment became difficult to suppress. He wondered, in a hot,
+disjointed way, if there was no possibility of a rescue.
+
+Awakening from a revery, she caught him in the act, regarding her with
+earnest eyes, and with a frown. He also came back to earth--or to the
+boat--suddenly, and he observed a slight movement of her eyebrows as in
+surprise or disapproval. With a guilty air, he looked away, and she
+wondered if the warmer color in his mahogany cheeks came entirely from
+the sunset. After an awkward silence, he said.
+
+"I beg your pardon for staring at you. You are so very contradictory,
+and in so many ways, that I took the liberty of guessing at your real
+character; whether after all you are unpleasantly perfect, or whether it
+is merely your luck to possess an awe-inspiring exterior."
+
+She was unable to repress a laugh. "And what have you decided?"
+
+"I have not decided; that is, not finally. I keep arriving at new
+conclusions. My first impression was that you were a person of frigid
+altitudes,--severe, exacting, and abnormally superior. Then, later, I
+have thought you warm-hearted--even impulsive: that your indifference is
+not always real. But of that, I am not sure. Still, I believe you
+possess a lower and a better nature."
+
+"You seem to have made wonderful discoveries in a very few hours."
+
+"I have been working hard."
+
+"I hope the verdict is favorable."
+
+"Well, yes--in a way."
+
+"So bad as that!"
+
+"No, not bad at all. It is merely that you have bullied your natural
+character. You have made it toe the mark and behave itself. Never given
+it any vacations, perhaps."
+
+She regarded him intently, as if in doubt as to his meaning.
+
+"But you don't know the cause," he added.
+
+She made no reply.
+
+"The cause," he said, "is the expression of your face."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes. It is impossible for any being of earthly origin to possess the
+celestial qualities promised in your countenance. It is out of harmony
+with terrestrial things. Why, when those three men put out their hands
+this morning for you to touch, I held my breath at their presumption. I
+looked for three bolts from heaven to wither the extended arms."
+
+"And your own face, Mr. Boyd, gives no indication of the subtleness of
+your irony: unkind, perhaps, but extremely clever."
+
+"Irony! Never! I had no such thought! I am merely announcing the
+discovery that with a different exterior you would have been less
+perfect; but more comfortable."
+
+"If this is not irony, it is something still more offensive. I gave you
+credit for a finer touch."
+
+"I may be clumsy, but not malicious."
+
+"Then explain."
+
+"Well, you see, having a tender conscience, you have felt a sense of
+fraud whenever confronted by your own reflection. Being human, you have
+had, presumably, ambitions, envies, appetites, prejudices, vanities, and
+other human ills of which the face before you gave no indication. And
+so, feeling the preternatural excellence of that face a lie, you have
+tried to live up to it; that is, to avoid being a humbug. In short, your
+life has been a strenuous endeavor to be unnecessarily wise and
+impossibly good."
+
+As their side of the steamer rose high above the sea, after an unusual
+plunge, he added: "And I am afraid you have succeeded."
+
+She remained silent, lost apparently in another revery, watching the
+changes in the west.
+
+The light was fading. On sea and sky a more melancholy tone had
+come,--dull, slaty grays crowding in from every quarter. And over the
+darkening waters there seemed a tragic note, half-threatening,
+intensified by every plunge of the steamer and by the swish of waters
+very near the deck. There was a touch of melancholy, also, in the steady
+thumping of the engines.
+
+She said at last, pleasantly, but in a serious tone:
+
+"I have been reflecting on your discourse. If ironical, it was unkind.
+If sincere, it was--not impertinent perhaps, but certainly not justified
+by our short acquaintance."
+
+"True: and I beg your pardon. But was it correct?"
+
+"I hope not."
+
+Something in her manner invited a discontinuance of that particular
+topic. He drew an attenuated hand across his mouth, changed his
+position, as if on the point of saying more; but he held his peace.
+
+Some minutes later, when Miss Marshall's maid approached this silent
+couple, her progress, owing to the movement of the deck, consisted of
+rapid little runs followed by sudden pauses, during which she hung with
+one hand to the rail and with the other clutched her hat. She had come
+up to ask if her mistress needed anything. Was she warm enough? Would
+she have another wrap? Miss Marshall needed nothing herself, but asked
+for news of Mr. Appleton Marshall, and if Father Burke was feeling
+better. Louise had seen nothing of Mr. Marshall since dinner, but she
+had left Father Burke reclining in the main saloon, not very sick, nor
+very well, but lower in his mind. As her maid departed, the lady
+expressed sympathy for the suffering uncle. "And poor Father Burke! He
+is terribly uncomfortable, I am sure."
+
+"Yes," said Pats. "I saw in his face a look of uncertainty: the wavering
+faith that comes from meals with an upward tendency."
+
+Pats thought this want of sympathy was resented.
+
+"He is a most lovable man," she said, "of fine character, and with a
+splendid mind. You would like him if you knew him better."
+
+Here was his opportunity; his chance for a rescue. He would snatch her
+from the clutches of the Romish Brute. A few stabs in the monster's
+vitals might accomplish wonders. So he answered, sadly, in a tone of
+brotherly affection:
+
+"I like him now. That is why I regret that he should devote himself to
+such a questionable enterprise."
+
+"What enterprise?"
+
+"His Church."
+
+With a forced calmness she replied, "This is the only time I ever heard
+the first religion of Christendom called a 'questionable enterprise.'"
+
+"Leo X. spoke of it as a 'profitable fable.' Perhaps that was better."
+
+"Did Leo X. say that of the Catholic Church?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I don't believe it."
+
+"Because you have too high an opinion of Leo?"
+
+"No; but he was a Pope of Rome, and I simply cannot believe it."
+
+"Some popes of Rome have been awful examples for the young."
+
+"So have men in all positions."
+
+He smiled and shook his head. "Yes, but when they set up as Christ's
+apostles, they really should not indulge too freely in assassination and
+torture: at least, not out of business hours."
+
+Then in a reflective, somewhat sorrowful manner, he continued, "But the
+Roman Enterprise has two enemies that are thorns in the flesh, the
+bath-tub and the printing-press. Wherever they march in, she marches
+out. The three can't live together."
+
+Of this statement there was no recognition, except a straightening up in
+the steamer-chair.
+
+He continued pleasantly, "In England, Germany, and America, for
+instance, where these adversaries are in vogue, Catholicism quits. As
+the devil shrinks from the sign of the Cross, so does the Holy
+Enterprise gather up its bloody skirts and decamp."
+
+"Perhaps you forget that in the United States alone there are more than
+seven million Catholics."
+
+"But they are not victims of the bath-tub habit."
+
+"That is not true! There are thousands of exceptions!"
+
+He laughed--an amiable, jolly, yet triumphant laugh--as he retorted,
+"You admit the truth of it when you call them exceptions."
+
+In the dim light which had gathered over everything, he could see the
+delicate eyebrows drawing together in a frown. But he went on,
+cheerfully, as if giving offence had not occurred to him, "Now Spain is
+enthusiastically Catholic. And for ignorance,--solid, comprehensive,
+reliable ignorance,--there is nothing like it in the solar system. You
+can't hurt it with a hammer. It defies competition. If a Spaniard were
+to meet a bath-tub on a lonely highway, he would cross himself and run."
+
+"Their ignorance is their own fault. Education and progress have always
+been encouraged by the Catholic Church."
+
+"Encouraged? Oh!"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"You mean by the stake and boiling lead?"
+
+"I do not."
+
+"When, for example, she notified Galileo that she would roast him alive,
+as she had already roasted Bruno, if he persisted in his heresy that the
+earth was round instead of flat?"
+
+"If you are happy in that belief, I will not destroy it."
+
+"It is a historic fact, but I am no happier for believing it. However,
+too much education is a nuisance, and very likely Mamma Church was wise
+in toasting an astronomer now and then."
+
+"Your conclusions are rather entertaining. I am a Catholic myself, and
+my own reading has brought opinions that are quite different."
+
+She spoke calmly, but he detected a less friendly tone. In a joking,
+incredulous manner he replied, "Well, then, I am a Catholic, too."
+
+"I am serious. My faith to me is a sacred thing. It has brought me a
+more tranquil spirit, a deeper knowledge, and a fuller conception of
+what I owe to others--and to myself."
+
+She was very much in earnest.
+
+"Then I beg your pardon," he said, "for speaking as I did."
+
+She tried to smile. "It is more my fault than yours. Religious
+discussions never do any good."
+
+Then she arose from her chair, and he knew from the exceeding dignity of
+her manner that his offence was serious. But this dignity met with cruel
+reverses. As she stood up, their side of the steamer was just starting
+on a downward lurch,--one of those long, deep, quivering plunges,
+apparently for the bottom of the sea, slow at first, but gaining in
+rapidity. And Elinor Marshall, instead of turning away with frigid
+ceremony, as she intended, first stood irresolute, as if taken
+unawares,--yet suspecting danger,--then tiptoed forward and rushed
+impetuously into the gentleman's arms. These arms were forced to
+encircle the sudden arrival, otherwise both man and woman would have
+tumbled to the deck. Then, she pushed him hard against the rail. But
+even that was not the end. For there she held him, to her shame,
+pressing against him with the whole weight of her body. And this lasted,
+it seemed to her, an hour--a year--a lifetime of mortification and of
+helpless rage; the wind all the time screaming louder and louder with a
+brutish glee.
+
+Her choking exclamations of chagrin were close to his ears, and he felt
+her hair against his face. But he was powerless to aid in her struggles
+to regain the lost equilibrium. However good his wishes, he could do
+nothing but stand as a cushion--poorly upholstered at that--between
+herself and the rail.
+
+Finally, at the end of time, when the deck came up again, she backed
+away with flaming cheeks. Pats apologized; so did she. He wished to
+assist her to the cabin stairs, but the offer was ignored, and she left
+him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+NORTHWARD
+
+
+Not since her change of faith--never in fact--had Elinor Marshall
+listened to such open abuse of a sacred institution. And the memory of
+it kept her wide awake during a portion of the night.
+
+Although she had decided to ignore that argument of the printing-press
+and bath-tub, it wormed itself into the inner chambers of her brain; and
+it refused to make way for better thoughts. As the possessor of a
+depositic conscience she suffered the miseries of guilt. For despite all
+reasoning of her own, she began to feel that unless those arguments were
+refuted, her faith might suffer: and, with her, an untarnished faith was
+vital.
+
+The motion of her berth, the rhythmic pounding of the engines, the
+muffled sound, at intervals, of feet upon the deck, all were soothing;
+but the remembrance of that discussion, with its mortifying climax, made
+sleep impossible. This childish sensitiveness she fully realized,--and
+despised,--but nerves achieved an easy victory over reason.
+
+She was glad when daylight came. Long before the breakfast hour she left
+her state-room and sought the deck for fresh air, and for Father Burke.
+He, also an early riser, was discovered in the lee of the upper cabins,
+his little prayer-book in his hand. Sitting close beside him she gave,
+in detail, the story of her conversation with Mr. Boyd. It was in the
+nature of a confession, but delivered in the hope and in the faith of
+the enemy's discomfiture. She felt, of course, that the statements
+concerning the press and tub were false and foolish, and she knew that
+Father Burke could tell her why.
+
+Her confidence was not misplaced. This was not the first time Father
+Burke had been called upon to stiffen the faith of wavering converts.
+Considerable experience and a perfect familiarity with the subject
+rendered the task an easy one. The tones of Father Burke's voice were,
+in themselves, almost sufficient for the purpose. Deep, calm, mellow,
+ravishingly sympathetic, they played like celestial zephyrs upon the
+chords of the maiden's heart. They filled the inmost recesses of her
+soul with security and peace. His arguments were the old, familiar
+things, considerably damaged by Protestants and other heretics; but he
+knew his audience. And when the spell had worked, when the wings beside
+him ceased to flutter, he drove the final bolt.
+
+"You know, my child, that the value of a statement depends largely upon
+the character of him who utters it. I have no desire to injure this
+young man, nor to prejudice you in any way against him. But it is
+clearly my duty to warn you that he is not a person with whom it would
+be safe for you to permit a very close acquaintance."
+
+"You need have no anxiety on that point."
+
+"I am very glad to hear it."
+
+"But tell me what you know about him, Father Burke. His family never
+mentions his name, and I supposed there was something to conceal. Was it
+anything very bad?"
+
+"Yes, bad enough. He is a wilful man, of a perverse and violent temper.
+His utterances of yesterday are in perfect accord with the spirit he
+displayed in youth. He broke his father's heart."
+
+"From his face one would never suspect that part of it--the violent
+temper. He appears to be a person of unusual cheerfulness and
+serenity,--most _offensively_ serene at times."
+
+"Very possible, my child. One of the hardest things to learn, and we
+seldom achieve it in youth, is that outward appearances often bear no
+relation to the inner man,--that the most inviting face can hide a
+vicious nature."
+
+"Do you really think him a bad man? I mean thoroughly unprincipled and
+wicked? I don't like him, but somehow it doesn't seem as if he could be
+utterly bad, with such a face."
+
+"Ah, my daughter, be on your guard against those very things! Heed the
+voice of experience. Remember his career."
+
+"But what especial thing did he do? What drove him away from home?"
+
+"In a fit of temper he tried to kill his father."
+
+"Really!"
+
+"As an old friend of the family, I knew the circumstances."
+
+"Awful! How did it happen?"
+
+"They were in the garden in an arbor, engaged in a controversy. In his
+anger he struck the old gentleman and knocked him down, and would have
+killed him had not others interfered."
+
+A silence followed, not broken by Father Burke. He desired his listener
+to realize the iniquity of the deed.
+
+At last she inquired half timidly:
+
+"And there was no provocation?"
+
+"None whatever."
+
+After another pause she said, reflectively:
+
+"The father had a temper too, I fancy, from what I know of him."
+
+Toward the face beside him the priest cast a sidelong look, which was
+detected.
+
+"I am not defending the son," she said hastily. "Heaven forbid! I almost
+hate him. But you must admit that the father was not an especially
+lovable character, nor very gentle in his ways."
+
+"He had his faults, like the rest of us; but he was a rare man,--a
+religious man of deep convictions, and the soul of honor."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so, but I was always afraid of him."
+
+Father Burke laid his hand on her arm and said, very gently but with
+unusual seriousness:
+
+"I should regret exceedingly, my child, to have you listen to the
+flippant sacrilege of this young man, or be subjected to his influence
+in any way."
+
+"There is no cause for alarm. I shall have as little to do with him as
+possible."
+
+"An excellent resolve. And now, will you grant me a request?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"I have no right to exact a promise. I only suggest that while on this
+boat you avoid, as far as possible, his companionship."
+
+"I promise."
+
+They both arose. His voice and manner were always impressive, even in
+ordinary conversation. But now a moisture gathered in the maiden's eyes
+as he gazed benignly into her face, and murmured in tones tremulous with
+feeling:
+
+"May Heaven bless you, my daughter, for your noble spirit, and for your
+unswerving devotion to a holy cause."
+
+Then they went below to breakfast.
+
+The girl was hungry; Father Burke was not. The undulations of the boat
+so tempered his appetite that food had lost its charm. A cup of tea and
+a bite of toast were the limits of his endeavor. Even these descended
+under protest and threatened to return. When the heretic--the victim of
+the plot--appeared soon after and took his seat at the table, he noticed
+that the greetings he received, while friendly and all that etiquette
+required, were less cordial than on the day before.
+
+And this was emphasized later, when he joined Miss Marshall on the deck.
+After a moment's conversation, she spoke of letters to be written, and
+went below.
+
+And once again, to make sure that this disgrace was no fancy of his own,
+he approached her as she sat reading, or at least, with a book in her
+hand. In his best and most easy manner, he inquired:
+
+"Did you ever hear of the Magdalen Islands, Miss Marshall?"
+
+She looked up, and nodded pleasantly.
+
+"Well, we are passing them now."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"They are off there to the westward, between twenty and thirty miles
+away, but out of sight, of course."
+
+Amiably she inclined her head in recognition of the news, but made no
+reply.
+
+It began to be awkward for Pats. But he resolved to suppress any outward
+manifestations of that state. This task was all the harder, as his legs
+embarrassed him. He knew them to be thin,--of a thinness that was
+startling and unprecedented,--and now, as he confronted the northeast
+wind, their shrunken and ridiculous outlines were cruelly exposed. He
+was sensitive about these members, and he thought she had glanced
+furtively in their direction. However, with his usual buoyancy he
+continued:
+
+"And now we leave land behind us until we reach the northern shore of
+the Gulf."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+Although she gazed pensively over the water, and with conspicuous
+amiability, something seemed to suggest that the present conversation
+had reached a natural end. So the skeleton moved away.
+
+With Pats a hint was enough. During the remainder of the voyage, at
+meals, and the few occasions on which he met the lady, he also was
+genial and outwardly undisturbed; but he took every care that she should
+be subjected to no annoyance from his companionship. This outward
+calmness, however, bore no resemblance to his inward tribulation. Such
+was his desire for her good opinion that this sudden plunge from favor
+to disgrace--or at least, to a frigid toleration--brought a keen
+distress. Moreover, he was mortified at having allowed himself, under
+any pretext, to jeer at her religion.
+
+"Ass, ass! Impossible ass!" he muttered a dozen times that day.
+
+Meanwhile, the _Maid of the North_ was driving steadily along,
+always to the north and east. On the morning of the second day her
+passengers had caught glimpses, to the larboard, of the shores of Nova
+Scotia. Later they rounded Cape Breton, and then, against a howling wind
+and a choppy sea, headed north into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The
+_Maid of the North_ was a sturdy boat, and though she pitched and
+tossed in a way that disarranged the mechanism of her passengers, she
+did nothing to destroy their confidence.
+
+It was the evening of this last day of the voyage, when Pats, feeling
+the need of companionship in his misery, descended for a final interview
+with Solomon. Through a dismal part of the steamer he groped his way,
+until his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. Solomon heard his step
+and knew him from afar. He whined, pulled hard at his chain, and stood
+up on his hind legs, waving his front ones in excited welcome.
+
+"There is _somebody_ glad to see me, anyway," thought Pats, as he
+sat on an anchor bar with the dog's head between his knees. There had
+always been more or less conversation between these two: not that
+Solomon understood the exact meaning of all the words, but he did
+thoroughly understand that trust and affection formed the bulk of the
+sentiments expressed. And these things being the basis of Solomon's
+character rendered him a sympathetic and grateful listener. The
+monologue, address, oration, confidence--or whatever--was delivered in a
+low tone, accompanied by strokings of the listener's head, taps,
+friendly pinches, and wandering of fingers about the ears.
+
+"Bad place for a dog, old chap. Lots of motion here, and smells, but
+'twill soon be over. So cheer up. Any way, you are lots better off than
+I am. In a single interview I have secured the contempt of an
+exceptionally fine woman. Yes, your Pats has done well."
+
+He smiled in the darkness, a melancholy smile.
+
+"She probably told everything to the priest, and he has explained to her
+satisfaction wherein I am a fool,--a malicious, blaspheming, dangerous
+villain, and a stupendous ass. And he is right. Perhaps, in time,--a
+long time,--I may learn that insulting people's religion isn't the
+shortest road to popularity."
+
+In his abstraction the hand, for an instant, was withdrawn. Solomon
+protested, and the attentions were resumed. "Keep still, old man, I am
+not going. And don't get that chain around your legs. But she is a fine
+girl, Sol: _too_ fine, perhaps. Just a little, wee bit too
+everlastingly high-minded and superior for ordinary dogs like us."
+
+While administering these pearls of wisdom the speaker had become
+interested in two approaching figures, dimly visible in the obscurity.
+As they came nearer, he saw that one, the older of the two, a man with
+gray chin whiskers and a blue jersey, was drunk. This man stopped, and
+holding the other by the arm exclaimed:
+
+"It's so, damn it! It's so, I tell yer! What's he doin' this minute?
+He's blind drunk in his cabin. Why, the jag on him would sink a
+man-o'-war. Oh, he's a daisy cap'n, he is! He's the champion navigator."
+
+"He'll be all right in the mornin'."
+
+"All right in the mornin'! It'll be a week! And where'll _we_ be
+to-morrer mornin'? Where are we--hic--now? God knows, and _he_
+ain't tellin'."
+
+With a maudlin gesture and a reverberating hiccup, the speaker,
+following the motion of the boat, pushed his friend against the wall and
+held him there. "I'll tell yer where we are; we are more'n fifty miles
+east of where we think we are. We ain't sighted Anticosti yet. And we
+ain't goin' to."
+
+The other man laughed, "Oh, shut up, Bart. You are gettin' a jag on
+yerself."
+
+"Yes, sir! We are fifty miles too far to easterd now, and by to-morrer
+mornin' it'll be a hundred miles."
+
+They passed on, the older man still holding forth. "I've been this
+cruise a dozen times, but, by God! this is the first time I ever tried
+to get there by--hic--headin' for Labrador."
+
+They disappeared in the darkness, in the direction of the forecastle,
+the sound of their footsteps dying away among the other noises of the
+boat.
+
+Here was food for thought. But, then, the man was exceeding drunk. And
+his companion, who probably knew him well, paid no attention to his
+words. However, Pats took a look about the boat when he got on deck. The
+pilot and second officer were in the wheelhouse, both silent, serious,
+and attending to their duty. The watches were all at their posts and the
+_Maid of the North_ was ploughing bravely through the night as if
+she, at least, had no misgivings. By the time Pats went to bed, an hour
+later, the drunken sailor was forgotten.
+
+It was a long time before he slept; and the sleep, when it came, was
+fitful. Perhaps he had brooded too much over his fall from grace. As the
+night wore on he was not sure, half the time, whether he was dreaming or
+awake. And so eventful were his slumbers, and so real the events
+therein, that his dreams and his waking moments became painfully
+intermingled. As, for instance, when he entered the cathedral. For a
+moment he stood still, overcome by its vastness and by the size of the
+congregation. Truly an imposing assemblage! And the great edifice was
+ablaze with light. A wedding, apparently, for there, before the altar,
+stood the bride, awaiting the groom.
+
+As Pats sauntered up the nave she turned about and smiled. And, lo! it
+was Miss Marshall, more beautiful than ever, more stately and more
+patrician, if possible, than in her travelling dress. For now she was
+all in white with a long veil--and orange blossoms. She smiled at him
+and beckoned.
+
+Yes! He was to be the groom! It was for him they waited!
+
+He strove to get ahead. His feet refused to budge. The harder he tried,
+the tighter he stuck. He opened his mouth to explain, but no sound came
+forth. Again and again he tried. Again and again he failed. The huge
+congregation began to murmur and he could hear them whispering, "What a
+fool!"
+
+Then, from behind him came three men: Billy Townsend, the man with the
+nose, and the other fellow with the flowers. They walked by him, easily,
+all in wedding array, and they lined up by the bride. Pats tried to
+raise his voice and stop it, but in vain. The Pope stepped forward and
+performed the ceremony, uniting them all in marriage. The four bowed
+their heads and received a blessing.
+
+And when the happy grooms with their bride came down the main aisle,
+they gave Pats a look,--a look so triumphant and so contemptuous, that
+it set his soul afire. He boiled with fury and humiliation. But stir he
+could not, nor speak. The bride's contempt, and she showed it, was
+beyond endurance. Gasping with passion, he tried to rush forward and
+smite the grooms--to scream--to do anything. But he could only
+stand--immovable.
+
+Suddenly the music changed. From a stately march it galloped into the
+air of a comic song that he had always hated. The Pope, as he marched
+by, stopped in front of him and cursed him for a Protestant. And now,
+beneath the jewelled tiara, Pats recognized the drunken old sailor with
+the chin beard.
+
+But in the midst of these curses came tremendous blows against the outer
+walls, resounding through the whole interior of the Cathedral; then an
+awful voice, as from The Almighty, reverberated down the aisle:
+
+"Time to get up! We are there!"
+
+The martyr, in the violence of his struggle, banged his head against the
+berth above, and shouted:
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At Boyd's Island, sir, where you get off."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+WONDERLAND
+
+
+When Pats, in the early morning light, stepped out upon the deck, he
+found, enveloping all things, a thick, yellow fog. Miss Marshall, her
+maid, and Father Burke stood peering over the starboard rail at an
+approaching life-boat. This boat had been ashore with baggage, and was
+now returning for the passengers.
+
+The fog lifted at intervals, allowing fugitive glimpses of a wooded
+promontory not a quarter of a mile away.
+
+Pats was struck afresh this morning by Miss Marshall's appearance. She
+wore a light gray dress and a hat with an impressive bunch of black, and
+he saw, with sorrowing eyes, that she and all that pertained to her had
+become more distantly patrician, more generally exalted and
+unattainable, if possible, than heretofore. He knew little of women's
+dress, but in the style and cut of this particular gown there existed an
+indefinable something that warned him off. No mortal woman in such
+attire could fail to realize her own perfection. He also knew that the
+apparent simplicity of the hat and gown were delusive.
+
+And this woman was so accustomed to the adoration of men that it only
+annoyed her! Verily, if there was a gulf between them yesterday, to-day
+it had become a shoreless ocean!
+
+Moreover, he thought he detected in Father Burke's face, as they shook
+hands at parting, a look of triumph imperfectly suppressed. While
+causing a mild chagrin, it brought no surprise, as the lady's manner
+this morning, although civil, was of a temperature to put the chill of
+death upon presumptuous hope.
+
+After a formal good-by to the uncle, Pats climbed into the little boat
+and assisted the lady to a seat in the stern. Then he turned about and
+held forth his hands toward the maid. She stepped back and shook her
+head.
+
+"Don't be afraid," he said. "There is no danger."
+
+"But I am not going ashore, sir."
+
+He looked toward Miss Marshall, who explained: "Louise is not coming
+with us. She goes on to Quebec, where I am to meet her in a fortnight."
+
+So they pushed away and rowed off into the fog, waving adieus to the
+little group that watched them from the _Maid of the North_. Both
+kept their eyes upon the steamer until a veil of gauze, ethereal but
+opaque, closed in between them. The sun, still near the horizon, lit up
+the mist with a golden light, and Pats with the haughty lady seemed
+floating away into enchanted space.
+
+Nearing the shore they made out more clearly the coast ahead. This
+fragment of primeval forest, its rocky sides rising fifty feet or
+thereabouts above the water, was crowned with gigantic pines, their
+tops, above the mist, all glowing in the morning light. The two
+passengers regarded this scene in silence, impressed by its savage
+beauty. The little pier at which they landed, neglected and
+unsubstantial, seemed barely strong enough to bear their weight.
+
+"Is this the only landing-place?" Pats demanded of the boatswain.
+
+"No, sir. There's another one farther in, but the tide isn't right for
+it."
+
+Just off the pier stood their trunks, and beside them two boxes and a
+barrel. Of the three passengers, the gladdest to get ashore, if one
+could judge by outward manifestations, was Solomon. He ran and barked
+and wheeled about, jumping against his master as if to impart some of
+his own enthusiasm. His joy, while less contagious than he himself
+desired, produced one good result in causing the lady to unbend a
+little. At first she merely watched him with amusement, then talked and
+played with him, but not freely and with abandon, only so far as was
+proper with a dog whose master had become a suspicious character. As the
+life-boat disappeared toward the invisible steamer, Pats turned to his
+companion.
+
+"Welcome to this island, Miss Marshall. I am now the host--and your
+humble and obedient vassal. Shall I hurry on ahead and send down for the
+baggage? Or shall we go on together and surprise the family?"
+
+Her lips parted to say: "Let us go on together," but she remembered
+Father Burke and his warning. So she answered, with a glance at the
+trunks, "Perhaps you should go first. The sooner the baggage is removed
+the better."
+
+With a little bow of acquiescence Pats turned and climbed the rocky
+path. She followed, but at a distance, and slowly, that there might be
+no confusion in his mind as to her desire to walk alone. To make doubly
+sure she paused about half-way up and listened for a moment to the
+tumbling of the waves upon the little beach below.
+
+Reaching the top of this path she found herself at the edge of a forest.
+It was more like a grove,--a vast grove of primeval pines. Into the
+shadow of this wood she entered, then stopped, and gazed about. Such
+trees she had never seen,--an endless vista of gigantic trunks, like the
+columns of a mighty cathedral, all towering to a vault of green, far
+above her head. And this effect of an interior--of some boundless
+temple--was augmented by the smooth, brown floor,--a carpet of
+pine-needles. With upturned face and half-closed eyes the girl drew a
+long deep breath. The fragrance of the pines, the sighing of the wind
+through the canopy above, all were soothing to the senses; and yet, in a
+dreamy way, they stirred the imagination. This was fairy land--the
+enchanted forest--the land of poetry and peace--of calm content, far
+away from common things. And that unending lullaby from above! What
+music could be sweeter?
+
+From this revery--of longer duration than she realized--she was awakened
+by a distant voice of a person shouting. She could see Pats off at the
+end of the point waving his handkerchief and trying to attract the
+attention of somebody on the water. Perhaps the gardener, or some
+fisherman.
+
+Walking farther on, into the wood, she became more and more impressed by
+the solemn beauty of this paradise. And the carpet of pine-needles
+seemed placed there with kind intent as if to insure a deeper silence.
+She resolved to spend much of her time in these woods, and, even now,
+she found herself almost regretting the proximity of her friends.
+
+In the distance, between the trunks of the trees, came glimpses, first
+of Solomon, then of his master, moving hastily about as if on urgent
+business. She smiled, a superior, tolerant smile at the
+inconsistency--and the sacrilege--of haste or of any kind of business in
+the sacred twilight of this grove, this realm of peace. And so, she
+strolled about, resting at intervals, inhaling the odors of the pines,
+and dreaming dreams.
+
+In these reveries came no thoughts of time until she saw the
+enemy--Pats--approaching. His silent footsteps on the smooth, brown
+carpet made him seem but a spirit of the wood,--some unsubstantial
+denizen of this enchanted region. But in his face and manner there was
+something that dispelled all dreams. He stopped before her, out of
+breath. "There is no house here!"
+
+With a frown of dismay she took a backward step. Indicating by a gesture
+the cottage out upon the point, she said:
+
+"The house we saw from the boat; what is that?"
+
+"I cannot imagine. But it is no gardener's cottage."
+
+"Then what is it?"
+
+"Heaven knows," he answered with a joyless smile. "It looks like a room
+in a museum, or a bric-a-brac shop."
+
+"But how do you know there is no other house?"
+
+"I have been over the whole point. I climbed that cliff, behind there,
+and got a view of the country all about. There is not a house in sight."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"Nor a settlement of any kind."
+
+"Surely, somebody can give us information."
+
+"So it would seem, but I have hunted in vain for a human being."
+
+"The people you were calling to from the cliff, couldn't they tell you
+something?"
+
+"There were no people there. I was trying to stop the steamer."
+
+She regarded him in fresh alarm. "Do you mean they have landed us out of
+our way?--at the wrong place?"
+
+He hesitated. "I am not sure. But we can always get the people of this
+cottage to take us along in their boat. It is still early; only nine
+o'clock."
+
+As they walked toward the cottage she noticed that he was short of
+breath and that he seemed tired. But his manner was cheerful, even
+inspiriting, and while she took care to remember that he was still in
+disgrace, she felt her own courage reviving under the influence of his
+livelier spirits. Besides, as they stepped out of the woods into the
+open space at the southern end of the point,--a space about two acres in
+extent and covered with grass,--and saw the blue sea on three sides, she
+found new life in the air that came against her face. In deep breaths
+she inhaled this air. Turning her eyes to her left she beheld for the
+first time the front of the building they had sighted from the steamer.
+This building, one story high, of rough stone, was nearly sixty feet
+long by about thirty feet in width.
+
+"What a fascinating cottage!" she exclaimed. "It is almost covered with
+ivy!"
+
+"Yes, it is picturesque, and I am curious to see the sort of family that
+lives in such a place."
+
+"Is no one there now?"
+
+"Nobody."
+
+"Nor anywhere near?"
+
+"No. I have looked in every direction--and shouted in every direction.
+They are probably off in their boat."
+
+As Pats and Elinor approached the building and stood for a moment before
+the door, a squad of hens and chickens, most of them white, began to
+gather about. They seemed very trusting and not at all afraid. The
+guiding spirit of the party--a tall, self-conscious rooster, attired,
+apparently, in a scarlet cap, a light gray suit with voluminous
+knickerbockers, and yellow stockings--studied the new-comers, with his
+head to one side, expressing himself in sarcastic gutturals.
+
+"That fellow," said Pats, "seems to be making side remarks about us, and
+they are not complimentary."
+
+His companion paid no attention to this speech. She had regretted her
+enthusiasm over the cottage. Enthusiasm might foster a belief that she
+was enjoying his society. So she remarked, in a colder tone, "I think
+you had better knock."
+
+He knocked. They listened in silence. He knocked again. Still no answer.
+Then he opened the door and entered, she following cautiously. After one
+swift, comprehensive survey, she turned to him in amazement. He was
+watching her, expecting this effect.
+
+The interior of the building was practically a single room. From the
+objects contained it might be the hall of a palace, or of an old
+chateau--or of a gallery in some great museum. On the walls hung
+splendid tapestries and rare old paintings. Beneath them stood Italian
+cabinets of superb design, a marriage chest, a Louis XV. sofa in gilt,
+upholstered with Beauvais tapestry, chairs and bergere to match.
+Scattered about were vases in old Sevres, clocks in ormolu, miniatures,
+and the innumerable objects of ancestral and artistic value pertaining
+to a noble house. Over all lay the mellowness of age, those harmonies of
+color that bewitch the antiquary.
+
+Dumfounding it certainly was, the sudden transition from primeval nature
+without to this sumptuous interior. Conspicuous in the sombre richness
+of these treasures were two marble busts, standing on either side of the
+great tapestry fronting the door. They were splendid works of art,
+larger than life, and represented a lofty individual who might have been
+a marshal of France with the Grand Conde, and an equally exalted
+personage, presumably his wife. These impressive ancestors rested on
+pedestals of Sienna marble.
+
+Elinor Marshall found no words to express her amazement. She stood in
+silence, her eyes, in a sort of bewilderment, moving rapidly about the
+room. At last in a low, awe-struck voice she said:
+
+"Have you no idea what it all means?"
+
+"None whatever. But I am sure of one thing, that it has nothing to do
+with Boyd's Island. If such a house as this were anywhere within reach
+of my sisters, they surely would have mentioned it."
+
+"Oh, surely!"
+
+"It being off here in the wilderness is what takes one's breath away."
+
+"I can't understand it--or even quite believe it yet." Then forgetting
+herself for an instant, she added, impulsively: "Why, just now I closed
+my eyes and was surprised, when I opened them again, to find it still
+here."
+
+"Yes; I expect an old woman with a hook nose to wave a stick and have
+the whole thing vanish."
+
+As their eyes met she almost smiled. For this lapse of duty to her
+church and to herself, however, she atoned at once by a sudden
+frigidity. Turning away she studied a huge tapestry that hung on their
+left as they entered. This tapestry extended almost across the room,
+forming a screen to a chamber behind.
+
+"That is a bedroom," said Pats. "I looked in," and he drew aside the
+tapestry that she might enter. She shook her head and stepped back. But
+in spite of her respect for the owner's privacy, and before she could
+avert her eyes, she caught a hasty glimpse of a monumental bed with
+hangings of faded silk between its massive columns; of two portraits on
+the walls and an ivory crucifix. This glance at the bedroom served to
+increase her uneasiness. Moving toward a table that stood near the
+centre of the room she turned, and regarding Pats with the lofty,
+far-away air which never failed to congeal his courage, she asked:
+
+"Where do you think we are? How far from your house?"
+
+"I have not the remotest idea. It is hard to guess. But I have a
+suspicion--"
+
+He hesitated. "Suppose I go out and make another effort to find these
+people." And he started for the door.
+
+"What is your suspicion?"
+
+He stopped in obvious uncertainty as to his reply. Looking away through
+the open door, he said: "Oh, nothing--except that we are not where we
+want to be."
+
+"Well, what else?"
+
+Pats met her glance and saw that she was becoming distrustful. Standing
+with one hand upon the ancient table, with the tapestries and busts
+behind her, she was a striking figure, and in perfect harmony with the
+surrounding magnificence. She reminded him of some picture of an angry
+queen at bay--confronting her enemies. In her eyes and in her manner he
+clearly read that she had resolved to know the truth. Moreover, she gave
+at this moment a distinct impression of being a person of considerable
+spirit. So, to allay her suspicions, which he could only guess at, he
+related, after the briefest hesitation, all he had heard the night
+before between the two sailors, repeating, as nearly as possible, what
+the drunken man had said. When he had finished she replied, calmly, but
+evidently repressing her indignation:
+
+"Why did you not tell me this earlier?--on the boat, before it was too
+late?"
+
+"I did not suppose you would care to know. I attached very little
+importance to it."
+
+"Importance! I think I might have had some choice as to being landed in
+the wilderness with you alone, or going on to your sisters."
+
+Pats regarded her in a mild surprise. Her sudden anger was very real. He
+answered, gently: "The man was so drunk he hardly knew what he was
+saying. His companion, who probably knew him well, paid no attention to
+his words."
+
+"But _I_ should have paid attention to his words. And so would my
+uncle, or any friend of mine, if he could have heard him."
+
+Pats, taken aback at the new light in which he stood, retorted, with
+some feeling:
+
+"I hope you don't mean to say that I did this intentionally?"
+
+"Then why did you keep such information so carefully to yourself?"
+
+"Because when I woke up I found we were here--that is, as I supposed--at
+Boyd's Island. Both the steward and the first officer told me so. My
+only doubt when I went to bed was about our getting here. And this
+morning here we were. It had come out all right, so far as I knew."
+
+With a curl of her lip that expressed a world of incredulity, she
+dropped into one of the chairs behind the table, and rested her chin
+upon her hand.
+
+In a lower tone, he continued:
+
+"I have never been here before, and had no idea how it looked. Why
+didn't Father Burke tell you this was not the place? He knows our
+island."
+
+"It was foggy. Nobody could see it; and he knew nothing of the warning
+you were keeping to yourself."
+
+Beneath this avalanche of contempt, Pats's feeble knees almost let him
+to the floor.
+
+"Miss Marshall, at least do me the justice to believe--"
+
+"Would you mind leaving me for a time?"
+
+Into his hollow cheeks came a darker color, and he closed his eyes.
+Then, with a glance of resentment, he took a step or two in her
+direction as if to speak. But instead of speaking, he turned toward the
+open door and walked slowly out.
+
+For a long time she remained in the same position, boiling with
+resentment, yet keeping back her tears. She knew this coast was wild,
+almost uninhabited, neither to the east nor west a sign of life: behind
+them, northward, the unending forest. And the owner of this mysterious
+habitation,--what manner of man was he? Perhaps there were several. And
+she, a woman, alone with these men! From such bitter reflections she was
+recalled, slowly, by the realization that her eyes were resting upon a
+little portrait about twice the size of an ordinary miniature--a woman's
+face--confronting her from across the table. It hung against the back of
+the opposite chair, on a level with her own eyes, and was suspended by a
+narrow black ribbon,--an odd place for a portrait, but in glancing at
+the table in front of her she thought she guessed the reason. Before the
+place in which she had thrown herself she noticed for the first time a
+plate, a pewter mug, a napkin, and a knife and fork. Evidently the host
+expected to eat alone, for there were no other dishes on the table. And
+the portrait, of course, must be his wife, or his mother, perhaps, or
+daughter. It proved a pleasant face as it, in turn, regarded her from
+the little oval frame,--rather plump and youthful, with a curious little
+mouth and large dark eyes, with a peculiar droop at the outer corners.
+The hair was drawn up, away from the forehead; the shoulders were bare,
+and a string of pearls encircled the neck. She was dark, with good
+features, not strictly beautiful, but gentle and somewhat melancholy, in
+spite of the mirthful eyes.
+
+So this was the romance of their mysterious host! She of the miniature,
+whatever her title--wife, mother, daughter, or sweetheart,--was ever
+present at his table, looking into his eyes across the board.
+
+The American girl felt a quickening interest in this host. Was it love
+that drove him to the wilderness? And why did he bring into it such a
+wealth of household goods?
+
+As she leaned back in the old-fashioned chair, her eyes wandering over
+the various objects in this unaccountable abode, her imagination began
+to play, giving a life and history to the people in the tapestries and
+portraits. The outside world was almost forgotten when she was recalled
+to herself by the chimes of an enormous clock behind the door. This
+triumph of a previous century, after tolling twelve, rambled off with a
+music-box accompaniment into the quaint old minuet attributed to Louis
+XIII. Before it had finished, two other clocks began their midday
+strike.
+
+Elinor looked about in alarm, under a vague impression that the various
+objects in the room were coming to life. Then, with the reaction, she
+smiled and thought:
+
+"Our friend is methodical with his clocks."
+
+But still, in this atmosphere, she was not at ease; there was an excess
+of mystery, too much that needed explanation. And now that it was
+midday, the host might return at any moment and find her there, alone.
+So she went out; and to avoid any appearance of pursuing Mr. Boyd, she
+followed a little path behind the house that led among the pines. Hardly
+had she entered the wood, however, when she saw, off to her right and
+not many yards away, the man she was trying to escape. He was lying at
+full length along the ground, one arm for a pillow, his face against the
+pine-needles. In this prostrate figure every line bore witness to a
+measureless despair.
+
+In her one glance she had seen that Solomon, as he sat by his master's
+head, was following her with his eyes. And these eyes seemed to say: "We
+stand or fall together, he and I. So go about your business."
+
+She also saw that a warning from the watcher had aroused the downcast
+figure; for it raised its head and looked about. Mortified and angry
+with herself, and still angrier with him, she averted her eyes and
+passed coldly on; but with the consolation of having witnessed some
+indication of his own misery and repentance. However, it was an empty
+joy. Of what avail his remorse? The evil was done; her good name was
+forever compromised.
+
+Preoccupied with these thoughts, she halted suddenly, and with a shock.
+At her feet, across the little path she had unconsciously followed,
+stretched an open grave. It was not a fresh excavation, for on the
+bottom lay a covering of pine-needles. And the rough pile of earth
+alongside was also covered with them. Projecting into the grave were
+several roots, feeders sent out by the great trees above; and from the
+stumps of other and larger roots it was evident that he who dug the
+grave had been driven to use the axe as well as the shovel. Close beside
+this grave was a mound with a wooden cross at the head.
+
+"There," she thought, "rests the lady of the miniature--perhaps." This
+mound was also covered with pine-needles, as if Nature were helping some
+one to forget.
+
+The silence of this spot, the murmuring of the wind among the branches
+high above, all tended to a somewhat mournful revery; and she wondered
+how this empty grave had been cheated of its tenant. With reverence she
+gazed upon the primitive wooden cross, evidently put together by
+inexperienced hands. Then she looked upward, as if to question the
+voices in the boughs above. But of the empty grave and its companion the
+whispering pines told nothing.
+
+Approaching footsteps gave no sound in this forest, and she was startled
+by a cough behind her. It was only Pats, not wishing to startle her by a
+sudden presence. His face seemed flushed, and even thinner than before;
+and about his mouth had come a drawn and sensitive look. But her eyes
+rested coldly upon him as they would rest upon any repugnant object that
+she despised, but did not fear.
+
+Smiling with an effort, he said: "Excuse my following you, but it is
+nearly one o'clock and time for food. I am sure we can find something in
+that cottage."
+
+"I am not hungry."
+
+"Did you have breakfast on the boat?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then you _must_ be hungry."
+
+"I do not care to eat." And she turned away.
+
+"Excuse me, Miss Marshall," and he spoke more seriously, "pardon my
+giving you advice, but you have had a hard morning and you will feel
+better, later on, for a little food. As for me, I have had nothing since
+yesterday, and shall collapse without it. Suppose I go to the house and
+scrape up some sort of a lunch. Won't you come there in a few minutes?"
+
+Her eyes travelled frigidly from his face to his feet. But before she
+could reply, he added:
+
+"Besides, the owner may come back, now, at any minute, and if he finds
+us together it will save time in our getting off."
+
+Turning away to resume her walk she answered, indifferently: "Very well,
+I will be there soon."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE SECRET OF THE PINES
+
+
+At one o'clock the lunch was served.
+
+Pats had placed before the lady a portion of a ham, a plate of crackers,
+some marmalade, and a bottle of claret.
+
+"There are provisions in the cellar," he said, "to last a year: sacks of
+flour, dried apples, preserved fruits, potatoes, all sorts of canned
+things, and claret by the dozen."
+
+As he spoke, he laid his hand upon the back of the chair that held the
+miniature,--the seat opposite her own.
+
+"Don't sit there!" she exclaimed. "We must respect the customs of the
+house."
+
+"Of course!" and he drew up another seat.
+
+Food and a little wine tended to freshen the spirits of both travellers.
+Pats especially acquired new life and strength. The arrival of a glass
+or two of claret in his yearning stomach revived his hopes and loosened
+his tongue. Noticing that her eyes were constantly returning to the
+little portrait that faced her, he said, at last:
+
+"By the way, there is something in the cellar that may throw some light
+on this lady, or on that empty grave back there." And he nodded toward
+the pines.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"A coffin."
+
+He smiled at her surprise and horror. In a low voice, she murmured:
+
+"It is empty, of course!"
+
+"Yes, I raised the lid."
+
+"What can it mean?"
+
+"I have no idea, unless some one disappointed somebody else by remaining
+alive, when he--or she--ought to be dead. That sometimes happens."
+
+"It is very mysterious," and she looked into the eyes of the miniature
+as if for enlightenment.
+
+"Very, indeed; but on the other hand, certain things are pretty evident.
+Such as the character of our host, and various points in his career."
+
+"You mean that he is a hermit with a history?"
+
+"Yes, and more specific than that!" Then, turning about in his chair and
+surveying the room: "He is an aristocrat, to begin with. These works of
+art are ancestral. They are no amateur's collection. Moreover, he left
+France because he had to. A man of his position does not bring his
+treasures into the wilderness for the fun of it. And when he settled
+here he had no intention of being hunted up by his friends--or by his
+enemies."
+
+Elinor, with averted eyes, listened politely, but with no encouraging
+display of interest.
+
+"But let us be sure he is not within hearing," Pats added, and he
+stepped to the door and looked about. "Not a sail in sight."
+
+At this point Solomon renewed his efforts to get his master to follow
+him, but in vain.
+
+"Why don't you go with him?" said Elinor. "He may have made an important
+discovery, like the graves, perhaps."
+
+"More likely a woodchuck's hole, or a squirrel track. Besides," he
+added, with a smile, as he dropped into his chair again, "these
+broomsticks of mine have collapsed once to-day, and I am becoming
+cautious. It has been a lively morning--for a convalescent."
+
+With a look that was almost, but not quite, sympathetic, she replied:
+"You have done too much. Stay here and rest. I will go with him, just
+for curiosity."
+
+She went out, preceded by the bounding Solomon. Through the open door
+Pats watched them, and into his face came a graver look as he followed,
+with his eyes, the graceful figure in the gray dress until it
+disappeared from the sunlight among the shadows of the forest.
+
+That he and she were stranded at a point far away from his own home he
+had little doubt. No such extraordinary house as this could have existed
+within fifty miles of Boyd's Island without his hearing of it. Moreover,
+he keenly regretted on her account his own physical condition. Since
+rising from his bed of fever he had carefully avoided all fatigue,
+according to his doctor's injunction. But now, after this morning's
+efforts, his legs were weak and his head was flighty. Things showed a
+tendency to dance before his eyes in a way that he had not experienced
+heretofore. When he lay upon the ground an hour ago he did it, among
+other reasons, to avoid tumbling from dizziness and exhaustion.
+
+The lady's situation was bad enough already. To have a collapsible man
+upon her hands was a supreme and final calamity that he wished to spare
+her. He leaned back in his chair and rested his feet on the heavy
+carving beneath the table. How good it was, this relaxation of all one's
+muscles!
+
+The pompous rooster, with a few favorites of his seraglio, came and
+stood about the open door, eying him in disapproval, and always
+muttering.
+
+In looking idly about Pats found himself becoming interested in the huge
+tapestry extending across the room at his right,--the one that served as
+a screen to the bed-chamber. While no expert in no such matters, he
+recognized in this tapestry a splendid work of art, both from its color
+and wealth of detail, and from the quality of its material. The more he
+studied it, the deeper became his interest--and his amusement. The
+scene, a formal Italian garden of the sixteenth century, of vast
+dimensions, showed fountains and statues without limit, and trees
+trimmed in fantastic shapes, with a chateau in the background. But the
+central group of figures brought a smile to his face. For, while the
+gardens were filled with lords and ladies of the court of Henri III.,
+those in the foreground being nearly the size of life,--all clad in
+their richest attire, feathers in their hats, high ruffs about the neck,
+and resplendent with jewels, the ladies in stiff bodices and voluminous
+skirts,--there were two figures in the centre in startling contrast with
+their overdressed companions. These two, a man and a woman, wore nothing
+except a garland of leaves about the hips.
+
+Pats smiled and even forgot his fatigue, as he realized that he was
+gazing upon a serious conception of the Garden of Eden. And the bride
+and groom showed no embarrassment. The groom was pointing, in an easy
+manner, to anything, anywhere, while the bride, in a graceful but
+self-conscious pose, ignored his remarks.
+
+And all the lords and ladies round about accepted, as a matter of
+course, the nakedness of this unconventional pair. While still
+fascinated by the brazen indifference of this famous couple, and
+pleasantly shocked by their disregard for all the rules of propriety, he
+was aroused by the sudden appearance in the doorway of Elinor Marshall.
+She had evidently been hurrying. There was excitement in her voice, as
+she exclaimed:
+
+"He is here! He has come back!"
+
+"The owner?"
+
+"Yes, he is taking a nap on a bench, on the other side of the point."
+
+In another moment Pats was beside her, both walking rapidly through the
+wood. Approaching the western edge of the point, they saw, between the
+trees, a figure sitting upon a bench, overlooking the water, his back
+toward them. With one elbow upon an arm of the rustic seat, his cheek
+resting on his hand and his knees crossed, he seemed in full enjoyment
+of a nap.
+
+Pats took a position in front of the sleeper, at a respectful distance,
+then said, in a voice not too loud:
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir."
+
+There was no responsive movement. When it became clear that he had not
+been heard, Pats stepped a very little nearer and repeated, in a louder
+tone:
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir."
+
+Still the sleeper slept.
+
+Pats glanced at Elinor Marshall, who smiled, involuntarily. Pats also
+smiled, as he realized that this ceremonious and somewhat labored
+greeting had a distinctly comic side, especially when so completely
+thrown away. However, he was about to repeat the salutation and in a
+louder voice, when he was struck by the color of the hand against the
+cheek. He went nearer and, stooping down, looked up into the sleeper's
+face. A glance was enough.
+
+Slowly he straightened up, then reverently removed his hat.
+
+Elinor, with a look of awe, came nearer and whispered:
+
+"Dead! Is it possible!"
+
+For a moment both stood in silence, looking down upon the seated figure.
+It was that of an elderly man, short, and slight of frame, with thick
+gray hair, and a beard cut roughly to a point. The face, brown, thin,
+and bony, was unduly emphasized by a Roman nose, too large for the other
+features. But the face, as a whole, impressed the two people now
+regarding it as almost handsome. He was clad in a dark gray suit, and a
+soft felt hat lay upon the seat beside him.
+
+"How long has he been here, do you think?" asked Elinor, in a low voice.
+
+"A day or two, I should say. His clothes are a little damp, and there
+are pine-needles on his shoulders and on his head."
+
+"But how dreadfully sudden it must have come! Not a change in his
+position, or in his expression, even."
+
+"An ideal death," said Pats. "I have helped bury a good many men this
+year, both friends and enemies, but very few went off as comfortably as
+this."
+
+He took out his watch, seemed to hesitate a moment, then said,
+reluctantly:
+
+"This is bad for us, you know, finding him dead this way."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"It means there is no boat to get away with."
+
+A look of alarm came into her face.
+
+"We may as well face the situation," he continued, looking off over the
+water. "This man lived here alone, as we know from what we have seen in
+his house. And he evidently selected this place, not wishing to be
+disturbed. We are at the end of a bay at least ten miles deep, with no
+settlement in sight. There is nothing whatever to bring a visitor in
+here. The traffic of the gulf is away out there, perhaps thirty miles
+from here."
+
+She made no reply. Venturing to glance at her face, he saw there were no
+signs of anger, only a look of anxiety.
+
+"I will tell you just what I think, Miss Marshall, and you can act
+accordingly. I shall, of course, do whatever you wish. But, as nearly as
+I can judge, we are prisoners until we can get away by tramping through
+the wilderness."
+
+He indicated, with a gesture, the broad current at their feet, washing
+the western edge of the point. "That river we can never cross without a
+boat, or a raft; and in that direction--I don't know how many miles
+away--is Boyd's Island. In the other direction, to the east, there is
+nothing but wilderness for an indefinite distance. That is, I think so.
+Now, if you prefer, I will go up this bank of the river at once, tie
+some logs together and try for a passage; then push on as fast as
+possible for our place, or the nearest settlement, and come back for
+you. Or, I will stay until we can go on together. Whatever you decide
+shall be done."
+
+He had spoken rapidly, and was ill at ease, watching her earnestly all
+the while.
+
+As for her, she was dismayed by his words. She had been listening with a
+growing terror. Now, she turned away to conceal a tendency to tears. But
+this was repressed. With no resentment, but with obvious emotion, she
+inquired:
+
+"Can you get across the river?"
+
+"Very likely."
+
+"If you fail, or if anything happens to you, what becomes of me?"
+
+"You would be here alone, and in a very bad plight. For that reason I
+think I would better stay until we can start together."
+
+A slight gesture of resignation was her only reply. There was a pause;
+uncomfortable for Pats from his consciousness of her low opinion of him.
+However, he continued, in a somewhat perfunctory way, turning to the
+silent occupant of the bench.
+
+"Now, as we take possession of this place, the least we can do is to
+give the owner a decent burial. Fortunately for us a grave is dug and a
+coffin ready."
+
+"Yes, _his_ grave and _his_ coffin," and she regarded with a
+gentler expression the sitting figure. "And I think I know why he dug
+the grave."
+
+"To save somebody else the trouble?"
+
+"To be sure of resting beside his companion."
+
+"Of course! that explains it all. He knew that strangers might bury him
+in the easiest place; that they would never chop through all those
+roots."
+
+He stepped around behind the body, placed his hands under the arms, and
+made an effort to raise it, but the weight was beyond his strength.
+Looking toward his companion with an apologetic smile, he said: "I am
+sorry to be so useless, but--together we can carry him, if you don't
+mind."
+
+At this suggestion Elinor, with a look of horror, took a backward step.
+
+"I beg your pardon," he said, "for suggesting it. I have been doing so
+much of this work that I had forgotten how it affected others."
+
+"What work?"
+
+"Burying people. In the Transvaal. One morning, with a squad, I buried
+twenty-eight. Nine of them my own friends. So, if I go about this in the
+simplest way, do not think it is from want of sympathy."
+
+"I shall understand."
+
+"Then I will bring that wheelbarrow I saw behind the house."
+
+He started off, then stopped as if to say something, but hesitated.
+
+"What is it, Mr. Boyd?"
+
+"I am afraid that coffin is too heavy for me. Would you mind helping
+with it?"
+
+"No. And I can help you with the body, too, if necessary." And together
+they returned to the cottage.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Never, probably, did simpler obsequies befall a peer of France.
+
+Sitting up in the same position as on the rustic bench, his cheek upon
+his hand, his elbow on the side of the barrow, the hermit was wheeled to
+his final resting-place beneath the pines. Beside him, with a helping
+hand, walked Elinor Marshall, shocked and saddened by these awful
+incongruities.
+
+Behind came Solomon.
+
+Among the pines, in the solemn shade of this cathedral, grander and more
+impressive than any human temple, moved the little procession.
+
+No requiem; only the murmuring in the boughs above, those far-away
+voices, dearer to him, perhaps,--and to his companion in the grave
+beside,--than all other music.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE CLOUDS GATHER
+
+
+The supper that evening was late.
+
+After the simple repast--of crackers, tongue, and a cup of tea--Pats and
+Elinor strolled out into the twilight and sat upon a rock. The rock was
+at the very tip of the point, overlooking the water to the south.
+
+On the right, off to the west, the land showed merely as a purple strip
+in the fading light, stretching out into the gulf a dozen miles or more.
+Behind it the sinking sun had left a bar of crimson light. To the east
+lay another headland running, like its neighbor, many miles to the
+south. These two coasts formed a vast bay, at whose northern extremity
+lay the little point at which Miss Elinor Marshall and Mr. Patrick Boyd
+had been landed by the _Maid of the North_. In the gathering gloom
+this prospect, with the towering forest that lay behind, was
+impressive--and solemn. And the solemnity of the scene was intensified
+by the primeval solitude,--the absence of all sign of human life.
+
+Both travellers were silent, thoughtful, and very tired. It had been a
+long day, and then the misunderstanding in the middle of it had told
+considerably upon the nerves of both. To Pats the most exhausting
+experience of all had been the business of the baggage,--its
+transportation from the beach below to the house above. Elinor's trunk,
+being far too heavy for their own four hands, Pats had suggested
+carrying the trays up separately; and this was done. Certain things from
+his own trunk he had lugged off into the woods, where, as he said:
+
+"There's a little outbuilding that will do for me. Not a royal museum
+like this of yours, but good accommodations for a bachelor."
+
+She did not inquire as to particulars. The gentleman's bed-chamber was
+not a subject on which she cared to encourage confidences.
+
+Her fatigue had merely created a wholesome desire for rest,--the
+sleepiness and indifference that come from weary muscles. But Pats's
+exhaustion was of a different sort. All the strength of his body had
+departed. Every muscle, cord, and sinew was unstrung. His spine seemed
+on the point of folding up. A hollow, nervous feeling had settled in the
+back of his head, and being something new it caused him a mild
+uneasiness. Moreover, his hands and feet were cold. Dispiriting chills
+travelled up and down his back at intervals. This might be owing to the
+change in temperature, as a storm was evidently brewing.
+
+The wind from the northwest had grown several degrees colder since the
+sun went down, and the heavens were sombre. There was not a star in
+sight. A yearning to close his eyes and go to sleep came over him, but
+he remembered how offensive was his presence to this lady, even at his
+best behavior. He must take no liberties; so he remarked, cheerfully, in
+a tone indicative of suppressed exuberance of spirit:
+
+"I hope you will not feel nervous in your chateau to-night."
+
+"No, I think not. It is a weird place to sleep in, however."
+
+"Yes, it is. Wouldn't you like me to sleep just outside, near the door?
+I am used to camping out, you know."
+
+"No, I thank you. I shall get along very well, I have no doubt."
+
+After that a prolonged silence. At last the lady arose.
+
+"I think I shall go in, Mr. Boyd. I find I am very tired."
+
+While they were groping about the cottage for a lamp, Elinor remembered
+two candelabra that stood upon a cabinet, stately works of art in bronze
+and gilt, very heavy, with five candles to each. One of them was taken
+down.
+
+"Don't light them all," said Elinor. "We must not be extravagant."
+
+But Pats did light them all, saying: "This is a special occasion, and
+you are the guest of honor."
+
+The guest of honor looked around this ever-surprising interior and
+experienced a peculiar sense of fear. She kept it to herself, however;
+but as her eyes moved swiftly from the life-sized figures in the
+tapestry to the sharply defined busts, and then to the canvas faces, the
+whole room seemed alive with people.
+
+"Plenty of company here," said Pats, reading her expression. "But in
+your chamber, there, you will have fewer companions, only the host and
+his wife." Then, with a smile, "Excuse my suggesting it, if an
+impertinence, but if you would like to have me take a look under that
+monumental bed I shall be most happy to do it."
+
+She hesitated, yet she knew she would do it herself, after he had gone.
+While she was hesitating, Pats drew aside the tapestry and passed with
+the candelabrum into the chamber. He made a careful survey of the
+territory beneath the bed and reported it free of robbers. Solomon,
+also, was investigating; and Pats, who was doing this solely for
+Elinor's peace of mind, knew well that if a human being were anywhere
+about the dog would long ago have announced him. But they made a tour of
+the room, looking behind and under the larger objects, lifting the lids
+of the marriage chests and opening the doors of the cupboard. Into the
+cellar, too, they descended, and made a careful search. The five candles
+produced a weird effect in their promenade along this subterraneous
+apartment, lighting up an astonishing medley of furniture, garden
+implements, empty bottles, the posts and side pieces of an extra bed, a
+broken statue, another wheelbarrow, a lot of kindling wood, and the
+empty corner where the coffin had awaited its mission. There seemed to
+be everything except the man they were looking for.
+
+"Fearfully cold down here!" Pats's teeth chattered as he spoke, and he
+shivered from crown to heel.
+
+"Cold! It doesn't seem so to me," and her tone suggested a somewhat
+contemptuous surprise.
+
+"To me it is like the chill of death." The candles shook in his hand as
+he spoke.
+
+"Perhaps you have taken cold," and with stately indifference she moved
+on toward the stairs.
+
+"Proximity of a Boston iceberg more likely." But this was not spoken
+aloud.
+
+Upstairs, when about to take his departure, Pats was still shivering. As
+he stood for a moment before the embers in the big open fireplace at the
+end of the cottage, his eyes rested upon a chest near by, with a rug and
+a cushion on the top, evidently used as a lounge by the owner. After
+hesitating a moment, he asked:
+
+"Would you object to my occupying the top of that chest, just for
+to-night?"
+
+As she turned toward him he detected a straightening of the figure and
+the now familiar loftiness of manner which he knew to be unfailing signs
+of anger--or contempt. Possibly both.
+
+"Certainly not. If you have a cold, it is better you should remain near
+the fire. I have no objections to sleeping in that other house. You say
+there _is_ another house."
+
+"Oh, yes! There is another house," he hastened to explain. "And it's
+plenty good enough. Of course I shall go there. I beg your pardon for
+suggesting anything else. I forgot my resolve. I didn't realize what I
+was doing."
+
+"I prefer going there myself," she said, rapidly. "I _much_ prefer
+it."
+
+And she turned toward the chamber to make arrangements for departure.
+But Pats stepped forward and said, decisively, and in a tone that
+surprised her:
+
+"You stay here. I go to the other house myself."
+
+He took his hat, and with Solomon at his heels strode rapidly to the
+door. There he stopped, and with his hand on the latch said, more
+gently, in his usual manner:
+
+"Wouldn't you like Solomon to stay here with you? He is lots of company,
+and a protector."
+
+She made no reply, but looked with glacial indifference from the man to
+his dog.
+
+"You would feel less lonesome, I know." Patting Solomon on the head and
+pointing to the haughty figure, "You stay here, old man. That's all
+right. I'll see you in the morning."
+
+The dog clearly preferred going with his master, but Pats, with a
+pleasant good-night to the lady, stepped out into the darkness and
+closed the door behind him.
+
+Solomon, with his nose to the door, stood for several moments in silent
+protest against this desertion. Later, however, he followed Elinor into
+the bed-chamber, and although his presence gave her courage and was
+distinctly a solace, she remained vaguely apprehensive and too ill at
+ease to undress and go to bed; so, instead, she lay on the outside of
+it, in a wrapper.
+
+Without, the northeast wind had become a gale. The howling of the storm,
+together with the ghostly silence of the many-peopled room excited her
+imagination and quickened her fears.
+
+But weariness and perfect physical relaxation overcame exhausted nerves,
+and at last the lady slept.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+"WOMEN ARE DEVILS"
+
+
+So sound was Elinor Marshall's sleep that when she awoke the old clock
+behind the door was celebrating, with its usual music, the hour of nine.
+From the fury of the rain upon the roof and the sheets of water coursing
+down the little panes of the window in her chamber, it seemed as if a
+deluge had arrived. And upon opening the front door she stepped hastily
+back to avoid the water from the roof and the spattering from the
+doorstep. But Solomon was not afraid. He darted out into the rain and
+disappeared among the pines.
+
+"Mr. Boyd will surely get a soaking when he comes for his breakfast,"
+she thought. And she wondered, casually, if he had a waterproof or an
+umbrella. He would soon appear, probably, and, as men were always
+hungry, she turned her attention to hunting up food and coffee for a
+breakfast. These were easily found. Having started a fire and set the
+table for two, she got the coffee under way. Crackers, boiled eggs,
+sardines, marmalade, cold ham, and apples were to appear at this repast.
+
+But at ten o'clock Mr. Boyd had not appeared. At half-past ten she
+realized the folly of waiting indefinitely for a man who preferred his
+bed to his breakfast, and she sat down alone. In the midst of her meal,
+however, she heard Solomon scratching at the door. No sooner had he
+entered--dripping with rain--than he began the same pantomime of
+entreaty as that of yesterday when he tried to get somebody to follow
+him. Now, perhaps his master was in trouble.
+
+But Elinor remembered what Mr. Boyd himself had said, "He has probably
+found a woodchuck or a squirrel track."
+
+Looking out into the driving rain she decided to take the benefit of the
+doubt. But Solomon was persistent; so aggressively persistent that in
+the end he became convincing. At last she put on her waterproof and
+plunged forth into the tempest, the overjoyed dog capering wildly in
+front. Straight into the woods he led her.
+
+Only a short distance had they travelled among the pines when she
+stopped, with a new fear, at the sound of voices. Two men, she thought,
+were quarrelling. Then a moment later, she heard the fragment of a song.
+After listening more attentively she decided that the voice of Mr. Boyd
+was the only one she heard. But was he intoxicated? All she caught was a
+senseless, almost incoherent flow of language, with laughable attempts
+at singing. At this, Elinor was on the point of turning back, prompted
+both by terror and disgust, when Solomon, with increasing vehemence,
+renewed his exhortations. She yielded, and a few steps farther the sight
+of Pats lying upon the ground at the foot of a gigantic pine, his valise
+beside him, its contents, now soaked with rain and scattered about,
+brought a twinge of remorse.
+
+So he had done this rather than oppose her ideas of propriety! And
+yesterday, when he spoke of another house, she, in her heart, had not
+believed him.
+
+All scruples regarding intoxication were dismissed. She hastened forward
+and knelt beside him. Pats, with feverish face, lay on his back in wild
+delirium. The pine-needles that formed his bed were soggy with rain, and
+his clothing was soaked. She laid her hand against his face and found it
+hot. His eyes met hers with no sign of recognition.
+
+"That's all right," he muttered, rolling his head from side to side,
+"nobody denies it. Run your own business; but I want my clothes. Damn
+it, I'm freezing!"
+
+His teeth chattered and he shook his fist in an invisible face.
+Involuntarily, from a sense of helplessness, she looked vaguely about as
+if seeking aid.
+
+Here, in the woods, was protection from the wind, but the branches aloft
+were moving and tossing from the fury of the gale above. The usual
+murmuring of the pines had become a roar. Great drops of rain, shaken
+from this surging vault, fell in fitful but copious showers. This
+constant roar,--not unlike the ocean in a gale,--the sombre light, the
+helpless and perhaps dying man before her, the chill and mortal dampness
+of all and everything around, for an instant congealed her courage and
+took away her strength. But this she fought against. All her powers of
+persuasion, and all her strength, she employed to get him on his feet.
+Pats, although wild in speech and reckless in gesture, was docile and
+willing to obey. The weakness of his own legs, however, threatened to
+bring his rescuer and himself to the ground. And, all the time, a
+constant flow of crazy speech and foolish, feeble song.
+
+Half-way to the cottage he stopped, wrenched his arm from her grasp and
+demanded, with a frown: "I say; you expect decent things of a woman,
+don't you?"
+
+"Yes, of course." And she nodded assent, trying to lead him on again.
+But he pushed her away and would have fallen with the effort had she not
+caught him in time.
+
+"Well, there's this about it," he continued, trying feebly to shake his
+arm from her hands yet staggering along where she led, "I'm not stuck on
+that woman or any other. I'm not in that line of business. Do I look
+like a one-eyed ass?"
+
+"No, no, not at all!" And, gently, she urged him forward.
+
+"Because three or four fools are gone over her, she thinks everybody
+else--oh! who cares, anyway? Let her think!"
+
+It was a zigzag journey. He reeled and plunged, dragging her in all
+directions; and so yielding were his knees that she doubted if they
+could bear him to the house. Once, when seemingly on the point of a
+collapse, he muttered, in a confidential tone: "This hauling guns under
+a frying sun does give you a thirst, hey? Say, am I right, or not?"
+
+"Yes, yes, you are right. Come along: just a little farther."
+
+"Did you ever swim in champagne with your mouth open?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What a fool!"
+
+Then he stopped, straightened up and sang, in a die-away, broken voice,
+with chattering teeth:
+
+  "See the Britons, Bloody Britons,
+    Millions of 'em doncherknow,
+  All a swarming up the kopje--
+  Just to turn about an hopje!
+    O, where in hell to go!
+      Bloody Britons!"
+
+Grasping her roughly by the shoulder, he exclaimed: "Why don't you join
+in the chorus, you blithering idiot?"
+
+This song, in fragments and with variations, he sang--or rather tried to
+sing--repeatedly. At the edge of the woods he seemed to shrink from the
+fury of the storm which drove, in cutting blasts, against their faces.
+And on the threshold of the cottage he again held back. In the doorway,
+leaning against the jamb, he said, solemnly:
+
+"Look here, young feller, just mark my words, women are devils. The less
+you have to do with them the better for you. D--n the whole tribe!
+That's what I say!"
+
+But she dragged him in and supported him to a chair before the fire. He
+sat shivering with cold, his chin upon his breast, apparently exhausted
+by the walk. The water dripping from his saturated garments formed
+puddles on the floor.
+
+Elinor, for a moment, stood regarding him in heart-stricken silence.
+Once more she felt of his clothes, then, after an inward struggle, she
+made a resolve. As she did it the color came into her cheeks.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+A SINNER'S RECOMPENSE
+
+
+After a lapse of time--an unremembered period of whose length he had no
+conception--Pats awoke.
+
+Was it a little temple of carved wood in which he lay? At each corner
+stood a column; above him a little dome of silk, ancient and much faded.
+Gradually--and slowly--he realized that he was reposing on a bed of vast
+dimensions and in a room whose furnishings belonged to a previous
+century. A mellow, golden light pervaded the apartment. This light,
+which gave to all things in the room an air of unreality--as in an
+ancient painting luminous with age--came from the sunshine entering
+through a piece of antiquated silk, placed by considerate hands against
+the window.
+
+Pats's wandering eyes encountered a lady in a chair. She sat facing him,
+a few feet away, her head resting easily against the carved woodwork
+behind, a hand upon each arm of the seat. She was asleep. In this golden
+mist she seemed to the half-dreaming man a vision from another
+world--something too good to be true--a divine presence that might
+vanish if he moved. Or, perhaps, she might fade back into a frame and
+prove to be only another of the portraits that hung about the room. So
+far as he could judge, with his slowly awakening senses, he was gazing
+upon the most entrancing face he had ever beheld. At first the face was
+unfamiliar, but soon, with returning memory, he recalled it. But it
+seemed thinner now. There were dark lines beneath the eyes, and
+something about the mouth gave an impression of weariness and care; and
+these were not in the face as he had known it. However, the closed lids,
+and the head resting calmly against the back of the high chair made a
+tranquil picture. For a long time he lay immovable, his eyes drinking in
+the vision. There was nothing to disturb the silence save the solemn
+ticking of a clock in another part of the cottage. He heard, beyond the
+big tapestry, the sound of a dog snapping at a fly. Pats smiled and
+would have whistled to Solomon, but he remembered the weary angel by his
+bed. With a sort of terror he recalled this lady's capacity for
+contempt.
+
+Being too warm for comfort he pushed, with exceeding gentleness and
+caution, the bed-clothes farther from his chin. But the movement,
+although absolutely noiseless, as he believed, caused the eyes of the
+sleeper to open. She arose, then stood beside him. A cool hand was laid
+gently upon his forehead; another drew up the bed-clothes to his chin,
+as they were before. With anxious eyes he studied her face, and when he
+found therein neither contempt nor aversion he experienced an
+overwhelming joy. And she, detecting in the invalid's eyes an unwonted
+look, bent over and regarded him more intently. As his eyes looked into
+hers he smiled, faintly, experimentally, in humble adoration. The face
+above him lit up with pleasure. In a very low tone she exclaimed:
+
+"You are feeling better!"
+
+He undertook to reply but no voice responded. He tried again, and
+succeeded in whispering:
+
+"Has anything happened?"
+
+"You have been very ill."
+
+"How long?"
+
+"This is the eighth day."
+
+"The eighth day!" He frowned in a mental effort to unravel the past.
+"Then I must have been--out of my head."
+
+"Yes, most of the time." She was watching him with anxious eyes.
+"Perhaps you had better not talk much now. Try and sleep again."
+
+"No, I am--full of sleep. Is this the same house--we discovered that
+first day?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He closed his eyes, and again she rested a hand upon his brow.
+
+"Who is here besides you?" he asked.
+
+"No one--except Solomon."
+
+"Solomon!" and he smiled. "Is Solomon well?"
+
+"Oh, yes! Very well."
+
+"Then you have taken care of me all this time?"
+
+She turned away and took up a glass of water from a table near the bed.
+
+"Yes; Solomon and I together. Are you thirsty? Would you like anything?"
+
+Pats closed his eyes and took a long breath. There was no use in trying
+to say what he felt, so he answered in a husky voice, which he found
+difficult to control:
+
+"Thank you. I _am_ thirsty."
+
+"Would you like tea or a glass of water?"
+
+"Water, please."
+
+"Or, would you prefer grapes?"
+
+"Grapes!"
+
+"Yes, grapes, or oranges, or pears, whichever you prefer."
+
+His look of incredulity seemed to amuse her. "Do you remember the two
+boxes and the barrel left by the _Maid of the North_ on the beach
+with our baggage?"
+
+He nodded.
+
+"Well, one of those boxes was filled with fruit."
+
+"Is there plenty for both of us?"
+
+"More than enough."
+
+"Then I will have a glass of water first and then grapes--and all the
+other things."
+
+He drank the water, and as she took away the empty glass, he said, in a
+serious tone: "Miss Marshall, I wish I could tell you how mortified I am
+and how--how--"
+
+"Mortified! At what?"
+
+"All this trouble--this--whole business."
+
+"But you certainly could not help it!"
+
+"That's very kind of you, but it's all wrong--all wrong!"
+
+She smiled and moved away, and as she drew aside the tapestry and
+disappeared, he turned his face to the wall, and muttered, "Disgraceful!
+Disgraceful! I must get well fast."
+
+And he carried out this resolve. Every hour brought new strength. In
+less than a week he was out of bed and sitting up. During this early
+period of convalescence--the period of tremulous legs and ravenous
+hunger--the Fourth of July arrived, and they celebrated the occasion by
+a sumptuous dinner. There was soup, sardines, cold tongue, dried-apple
+sauce, baked potatoes, fresh bread, and preserved pears, and the last of
+the grapes. At table, Elinor faced the empty chair that held the
+miniature, for the absent lady's right to that place was always
+respected. Pats sat at the end facing the door. They dined at noon. A
+bottle of claret was opened and they drank to the health of Uncle Sam.
+
+Toward the end of the dinner, Pats arose, and with one hand on the table
+to reinforce his treacherous legs, held aloft his glass. Looking over to
+the dog, who lay by the open door, his head upon his paws, he said:
+
+"Solomon, here's to a certain woman; of all women on earth the most
+unselfish and forgiving, the most perfect in spirit and far and away the
+most beautiful--the Ministering Angel of the Pines. God bless her!"
+
+At these words Solomon, as if in recognition of the sentiment, arose
+from his position near the door, walked to Elinor's side and, with his
+habitual solemnity, looked up into her eyes.
+
+"Solomon," said Pats, "you have the soul of a gentleman."
+
+In Elinor's pale face there was a warmer color as she bent over and
+caressed the dog.
+
+After the dinner all three walked out into the pines, Pats leaning on
+the lady's arm. The day was warm. But the gentle, southerly breeze came
+full of life across the Gulf. And the water itself, this day, was the
+same deep, vivid blue as the water that lies between Naples and
+Vesuvius. The convalescent and his nurse stopped once or twice to drink
+in the air--and the scene.
+
+Pats filled his lungs with a long, deep breath. "I feel very light. Hold
+me fast, or I may float away."
+
+Both his head and his legs seemed flighty and precarious. Those two
+glasses of claret were proving a little too much--they had set his brain
+a-dancing. But this he kept to himself. She noticed the high spirits,
+but supposed them merely an invalid's delight in getting out of doors.
+
+Under the big trees they rested for a time, in silence, Elinor gazing
+out across the point, over the glistening sea beyond. The shade of the
+pines they found refreshing. The convalescent lay at full length, upon
+his back, looking up with drowsy eyes into the cool, dark canopy, high
+above. Soothing to the senses was the sighing of the wind among the
+branches.
+
+"This is good!" he murmured. "I could stay here forever."
+
+"That may be your fate," and her eyes moved sadly over the distant,
+sailless sea. "It is a month to-day that we have been here."
+
+"So it is, a whole month!"
+
+Elinor sighed. "There is something wrong, somewhere. It seems to me the
+natural--the only thing--would be for somebody to hunt us up."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Could they have sailed by this bay and missed us?"
+
+"Not unless they were idiots. Everybody on the steamer knew we sailed
+into a bay to get here."
+
+"Still, they may have missed us."
+
+"Well, suppose they did go by us, once or twice, or several times;
+people don't abandon their best friends and brothers in that off-hand
+fashion."
+
+After a pause he added, "Something may have happened to Father Burke or
+to Louise."
+
+"But even then," said Elinor, turning toward him, "wouldn't they try and
+discover why I had not arrived? And wouldn't they hunt _you_ up?"
+
+"No, I was to be a surprise. None of them knew I was coming. They think
+I am still in South Africa."
+
+There was a long silence, broken at last by Pats. "What a hideous
+practical joke I have turned out! In the first place I strand you here
+and--"
+
+"No! I was very unjust that day and have repented--and tried to atone."
+
+"Atone! You! Angels defend us! If atonement was due from you, where am
+I? Instead of getting you away, I go out of my head and have a
+fever--and am fed--like a baby."
+
+She smiled. "That is hardly your fault."
+
+"Yes, it is. No _man_ would do it. Pugs and Persian cats do that
+sort of thing. For men there are proper times for giving out. But there
+is one thing I should like to say--that is, that my life is yours. This
+skeleton belongs to you, and the soul that goes with it. Henceforth I
+shall be your slave. I do not aspire to be treated as your equal; just
+an abject, reverent, willing slave."
+
+She smiled and played with the ears of the sleeping Solomon.
+
+"I am serious," and Pats raised himself on one elbow. "Just from plain,
+unvarnished gratitude--if from nothing else--I shall always do whatever
+you command--live, die, steal, commit murder, scrub floors, anything--I
+don't care what."
+
+"Do you really mean it?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"Then stop talking."
+
+With closed eyes he fell back into his former position. But again,
+partially raising himself, he asked, "May I say just one thing more?"
+
+"No."
+
+Again he fell back, and there was silence.
+
+For a time Elinor sat with folded hands gazing dreamily beyond the point
+over the distant gulf, a dazzling, vivid blue beneath the July sun. When
+at last she turned with a question upon her lips and saw the closed eyes
+and tranquil breathing of the convalescent, she held her peace. Then
+came a drowsy sense of her own fatigue. Cautiously, that the sleeper
+might not awake, she also reclined, at full length, and closed her eyes.
+Delicious was the soft air: restful the carpet of pine-needles. No
+cradle-song could be more soothing than the muffled voices of the pines:
+and the lady slept.
+
+But Pats was not asleep. He soon opened his eyes and gazed dreamily
+upward among the branches overhead, then moved his eyes in her
+direction. For an easier study of the inviting creature not two yards
+away, he partially raised himself on an elbow. The contemplation of this
+lady he had found at all times entrancing; but now, from her unconscious
+carelessness and freedom she became of absorbing interest. Her dignity
+was asleep, as it were: her caution forgotten. With captivated eyes he
+drank in the graceful outlines of her figure beneath the white dress,
+the gentle movement of the chest, the limp hands on the pine-needles.
+Some of the pride and reserve of the clean-cut, patrician face--of which
+he stood in awe--had melted away in slumber.
+
+Maybe the murmur of the pines with the drowsy, languorous breeze relaxed
+his conscience; at all events the contours of the upturned lips were
+irresistible. Silently he rolled over once--the soft carpet of
+pine-needles abetting the manoeuvre--until his face was at right
+angles to her own, and very near. Then cautiously and slowly he pressed
+his lips to hers. This contact brought a thrill of ecstasy--an
+intoxication to his senses. But the joy was brief.
+
+More quickly than his startled wits could follow she had pushed away his
+face and risen to her feet. Erect, with burning cheeks, she looked down
+into his startled eyes with an expression that brought him sharply to
+his senses. It was a look of amazement, of incredulity, of contempt--of
+everything in short that he had hoped never to encounter in her face
+again. For a moment she stood regarding him, her breast heaving, a stray
+lock of hair across a hot cheek, the most distant, the most exalted, and
+the most beautiful figure he had ever seen. Then, without a word, she
+walked away. Across the open, sunlit space his eyes followed her, until,
+through the doorway of the cottage, she disappeared.
+
+For a moment he remained as he was, upon the ground, half reclining,
+staring blankly at the doorway. Then, slowly, he lowered himself and lay
+at full length along the ground, his face in his hands.
+
+Of the flight of time he had no knowledge: but, at last, when he rose to
+his feet he appeared older. He was paler. His eyes were duller. About
+the mouth had come lines which seemed to indicate a painful resolution.
+But to the shrunken legs he had summoned a sufficient force to carry
+him, without wavering, to the cottage door. He entered and dropped, as a
+man uncertain of his strength, into the nearest chair--the one beside
+the doorway. Solomon, who had followed at his heels, looked up
+inquiringly into the emaciated face. Its extraordinary melancholy may
+have alarmed him. But Pats paid no attention to his dog. He looked at
+Elinor who was ironing, at the heavy table--the dining-table--in the
+centre of the room. Her sleeves were rolled back to the elbow; her head
+bent slightly over as she worked.
+
+The afternoon sun flooded the space in his vicinity and reached far
+along the floor, touching the skirt of her dress. Behind her the old
+tapestry with the two marble busts formed a stately background. To the
+new arrivals she paid no attention.
+
+After a short rest to recover his breath, and his strength, Pats cleared
+his throat:
+
+"Miss Marshall, you will never know, for I could not begin to tell
+you--how sorry--how, how ashamed I am for having done--what I did. I
+don't ask you to forgive me. If you were my sister and another man did
+it, I should--" He leaned back, at a loss for words.
+
+"I don't say it was the claret. I don't try to excuse myself in any way.
+But one thing I ask you to believe: that I did not realize what I was
+doing."
+
+He arose and stood with his hand on the back of the chair. As he went on
+his voice grew less steady. "Why, I look upon you as something sacred;
+you are so much finer, higher, better than other people. In a way I feel
+toward you as toward my mother's memory; and that is a holy thing. I
+could as soon insult one as the other. And I realize and shall never
+forget all that you have done for me."
+
+In a voice over which he seemed to be losing control, he went on, more
+rapidly:
+
+"And it's more than all that--it's more than gratitude and respect. I--"
+For an instant he hesitated, then his words came hotly, with a reckless
+haste. "I love you as I never thought of loving any human being. It
+began when I first saw you on the wharf. You don't know what it means.
+Why, I could lay down my life for you--a thousand times--and joyfully."
+
+From Elinor these words met with no outward recognition. She went
+quietly on with her ironing.
+
+Pats drew a deep breath, sank into his chair and muttered, in a lower
+tone, "I never meant to tell you that. Now I--I--have done it."
+
+During the pause that followed these last words she said, quietly,
+without looking up:
+
+"I knew it already."
+
+He straightened up. "Knew what already?"
+
+She lifted a collar she was ironing and examined it, but made no reply.
+
+"You knew what already?" he repeated. "That I was in love with you?"
+
+She nodded, still regarding the collar.
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+She laid the collar beside other collars already ironed and took up
+another; but he heard no answer.
+
+"How did you know?" he asked. "From what?"
+
+"From various things."
+
+"What things?"
+
+There was no reply.
+
+"From things I did?"
+
+She nodded, rather solemnly, and her face, what he could see of
+it--seemed very serious. Pats was watching her intently, and exclaimed,
+in surprise:
+
+"That is very curious, for I kept it to myself!"
+
+"Any woman would have known."
+
+Pats leaned back, and frowned. A torturing thought possessed him. In an
+anxious tone he said: "I hope I did not talk much when I had the fever."
+
+As she made no reply he studied the back of her head for some responsive
+motion. But none came.
+
+"Did I?" he demanded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+A look of terror came into his face and his voice grew fainter as he
+asked: "Did I talk about you?"
+
+"Freely."
+
+With trembling fingers he felt for his handkerchief and drew it across
+his brow. "Did I say things that--that--I should be ashamed of?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+Pats sunk lower in his chair and closed his eyes. Judging from the lines
+in his cadaverous face the last three minutes had added years to his
+age.
+
+"Would you mind telling me," he asked in a deferential voice, so low
+that it barely reached her, "whether they were impertinent and
+ungentlemanly--or--or--what?"
+
+"Everything."
+
+His lips were dry, and on his face came a look of anguish--of
+unspeakable shame. There was a pause, broken only by the faint sound of
+the flatiron.
+
+"Then I really talked about you--at one time?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"More than once?"
+
+"For days together."
+
+Pats closed his eyes in pain, and there was a silence. Then he opened
+them: "Would you mind telling me some of the things I said?"
+
+"I could not remember."
+
+"Have you forgotten _all_?"
+
+"No--but I prefer not repeating them."
+
+On Pats's face the look of shame deepened. In a very low voice he said:
+"Please remember that I was not myself."
+
+"I make allowance for that."
+
+"Excuse my asking, but if I was out of my head and irresponsible, what
+could I have said to make you believe that I was--in love with you?"
+
+"You protested so violently that you were not."
+
+With unspeakable horror and humiliation Pats began to realize the awful
+possibilities of that divulgence of his most secret thoughts. A cold
+chill crept up his spine. He looked down at the floor, from fear that
+she might glance in his direction and meet his eyes. Solomon, who felt
+there was trouble in the air, came nearer and placed his cold wet snout
+against the clinched hands of his master; but the hands were
+unresponsive.
+
+At last, the stricken man mustered courage enough to stammer in a
+constrained voice:
+
+"It is not from curiosity I ask it, but would you mind telling
+me--giving me at least some idea of what I said?"
+
+Elinor carefully deposited a neatly folded handkerchief upon a little
+pile of other handkerchiefs. Then, looking down at the table and not at
+Pats, she said calmly, as she continued her work:
+
+"You said I was a pious hypocrite--coldblooded and heartless--and a
+fool. You repeated a great many times that I was superior, pretentious,
+and 'everlastingly stuck on myself,'--I think that was the expression.
+Of course, I cannot repeat your own words. They were forcible, but
+exceedingly profane."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"You kept mentioning three other men who could have me for all you
+cared."
+
+Pats felt himself blushing. He frowned, grew hot, and bit his lip.
+Mingled with his mortification came an impotent rage. He felt that
+behind her contempt she was laughing at him. As there was a pause, he
+muttered bitterly:
+
+"Go on."
+
+But she continued silently with her ironing.
+
+"Please go on. Tell me more; the worst. I should like to know it."
+
+Raising one of the handkerchiefs higher for a closer examination, she
+added: "You sang comic songs, inserting my name, and with language I
+supposed no gentlemen could use."
+
+Pats gasped. His cheeks tingled. In shame he closed his eyes. The
+ticking of the old clock behind the door seemed to hammer his
+degradation still deeper into his aching soul. As his wandering,
+miserable gaze encountered the marble face of the Marshal of France he
+thought the old soldier was watching him in contemptuous enjoyment.
+
+But Elinor went on quietly with her ironing.
+
+Suddenly into his feverish brain there came a thought, heaven-born,
+inspiring. It lifted him to his feet. With a firm stride he approached
+the table. No legs could have done it better. He stood beside her, but
+she turned her back as she went on with the ironing. His expression was
+of a man exalted, yet anxious; and he spoke in a low but unruly voice.
+
+"You say you have known I was in love with you ever since the fever?"
+
+She nodded slightly, without looking up.
+
+"And yet you have been very--kind, and not--not annoyed or offended.
+Perhaps after all, you--you--oh, please turn around!"
+
+But she did not turn, so he stepped around in front. Into her cheeks had
+come a sudden color, and in her eyes he saw the light that lifts a lover
+to the highest heaven.
+
+It was Pat's cry of joy and his impulsive and somewhat violent embrace
+of this lady that awakened the dog reposing by the door. Looking in the
+direction of the voice Solomon seemed to see but a single figure. This
+was a natural mistake. In another moment, however, he realized that
+extraordinary things were happening,--that these two distinct and
+separate beings with a single outline signified some momentous change in
+human life. Whether from an over-mastering sympathy, from envy,
+delicacy, or disgust, Solomon looked the other way. Then, thoughtfully,
+with drooping head, he walked slowly out and left the lovers to
+themselves.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+TRAPPING A QUAIL
+
+
+Happy were the days that followed. Pats, uplifted with his own joy,
+became a lavish dispenser of cheerfulness and folly. Elinor, with
+unclouded eyes and a warmer color in her cheeks, seemed to have drifted
+into the Harbor of Serenity. Both were at peace with creation.
+
+In pleasant weather they strolled among the pines, worked in the little
+garden behind the house, fished, played upon the beach, or explored the
+neighborhood. When it rained, which was seldom, they cleaned up the
+house, read books and old letters, ransacking trunks and drawers trying
+to discover the secret of the departed owner. But in vain. The departed
+owner had been careful to leave no clew to his identity or of his reason
+for abiding there. They did find, however, between the leaves of a book,
+a little chart of the point done by his own hand apparently, and beneath
+it was written
+
+                           La Pointe de Lory.
+
+So they felt they had learned the name of the place, but whether it was
+the official name or one given by the old gentleman for his private use
+they could not discover.
+
+"There is a town of St. Lory in the south of France," said Pats. "I knew
+a man who came from there. Perhaps our host was from that vicinity."
+
+The days went by and no sail appeared. This, however, was of slight
+importance. In fact, during that first ecstatic period, nothing was
+important,--that is, nothing like a ship. It was during this period they
+forgot to keep tally of time, and they either lost or gained a day, they
+knew not which--nor cared.
+
+All days were good, whatever the weather. Time never dragged. With a
+companion of another temperament Elinor could easily have passed moments
+of depression. For a girl in her position there certainly was abundant
+material for regret. But the courage and the unwavering cheerfulness of
+Pats were contagious. He and melancholy were never partners. A
+discovery, however, was made one morning on the little beach that, for a
+moment at least, filled Elinor with misgivings.
+
+Midway along this beach they found a bucket, rolling about on the sand,
+driven here and there by the incoming waves.
+
+"That is worth saving," and Pats, watching his opportunity, followed up
+a receding breaker and procured the prize. It resembled a fire-bucket;
+and there were white letters around the centre. Elinor ran up and stood
+beside him, and, as he held it aloft, turning it slowly about to follow
+the words, both read aloud:
+
+"Of--the--North--Maid."
+
+"Maid of the North!" exclaimed Elinor, grasping Pats by the arm. "Oh, I
+hope nothing has happened to her!"
+
+"Probably not. More likely some sailor lost it overboard." Then, looking
+up and down the beach, "There is no wreckage of any kind. If she had
+blown up or struck a rock there would surely be something more than one
+water-bucket to come ashore and tell us. I guess she is all right."
+
+"But how exciting! It seems like meeting an old friend."
+
+She held it in her own hands. "Poor thing! You did look so melancholy
+swashing about on this lonely beach."
+
+When they returned to the house they carried the bucket with them.
+
+Pats had his own misgivings, however. One or two other objects he had
+discerned floating on the water farther out, too far away to distinguish
+what they were. And the fact that no search had been made for Elinor was
+in itself disquieting. But as his chief aim at present was to bring
+contentment to the girl beside him, he carefully refrained from any
+betrayal of these doubts. Nothing else, however, that might cause alarm
+was washed ashore.
+
+And Pats, all this time, was growing fat. His increasing plumpness was
+perceptible from day to day, and it proved a constant source of mirth to
+his companion. One morning he appeared in a pair of checkered trousers
+purchased in South Africa during his skeleton period. They seemed on the
+verge of exploding from the outward pressure of the legs within. Elinor
+made no effort to suppress her merriment. She called him "Fatsy." And to
+the dog, who regarded the trousers with his usual solemnity, she
+remarked:
+
+  "O, Solomon!
+    See him grow fat!
+  Our erstwhile skinny,
+    Diaphanous Pat."
+
+But with "Fatsy's" flesh came increase of strength, and he proved a hard
+worker. As soon as he was strong enough he began to build the raft by
+which they hoped to cross the river. But progress was slow for his
+endurance had limits, and he could work but an hour or two each day.
+Their plan was to paddle across the river on this raft as they floated
+down. Owing to the swiftness of the current they built the raft nearly a
+mile farther up the stream. With the walk to and fro, which also taxed
+the builder's strength, the month of July brought little progress. One
+afternoon, they sauntered home, the broad, swift, silent river on their
+right, the sun just above the trees on the opposite bank. Close at hand,
+on their own side of the river the nearest pines stood forth in strong
+relief against the mysterious depths behind. Near the river's bank long
+shadows from these towering trunks lay in purple bars across the smooth,
+brown carpet. It was about half-way home that the man, with an air of
+weariness, seated himself upon a fallen tree. Elinor regarded him with
+an anxious face.
+
+"Patsy, you have done too much again." As he looked up, she saw in his
+eyes an expression she had learned to associate with levity and
+foolishness. "Be serious. You are very tired, now aren't you?"
+
+"Just pleasantly tired. But if I were suddenly kissed by a popular belle
+it would give me new strength."
+
+When, a moment later, he arose, fresh life and vigor seemed certainly to
+have been acquired. Catching her by the waist, he hummed a waltz and
+away they floated, over the pine-needles, he in gray and she in white,
+like wingless spirits of the wood. When the waltz had ended and they
+were walking hand in hand, and a little out of breath, the lady
+remarked:
+
+"When I am frivolous in these woods I feel very wicked. They are so
+silent and reserved themselves, so solemn and so very high-minded that
+it seems a desecration."
+
+"All wrong," said Pats. "This is a temple built for lovers: shady,
+spacious, and jammed full of mystery--and safe."
+
+"But it's the spaciousness and mystery that make it so like a temple and
+suggest serious thoughts."
+
+"Not to a healthy mind. Oh, no! This gloom is here for a purpose. Pious
+thoughts should seek the light, but lovers need obscurity. They always
+have and they always will."
+
+A few steps farther on he stopped and faced her, still holding her hand:
+"If you will feed the hens to-night, bring in the wood and wash the
+dishes, you may embrace me once again--now, right here."
+
+She snatched away her head. He sprang forward to catch her--but she was
+away, beyond his reach. She ran on ahead and Pats, after a short
+pursuit, gave up the chase, for his fallible legs were still unfit for
+speed. With a mocking laugh and a wave of the hand she hastened on
+toward the cottage. Following more leisurely he watched the graceful
+figure in the white dress hurrying on before him until it was lost among
+the pines.
+
+Just at the edge of the woods, not a hundred feet from the house, he
+stopped. Standing behind a tree so that Elinor, if she came to the door,
+could not see him, he whistled three notes. These notes, clear and full,
+were in imitation of a quail. And he did it exceedingly well. The
+imitation was masterly.
+
+But no one appeared at the cottage door, and after a short silence he
+repeated the call.
+
+"Perfect!"
+
+Pats started and turned about.
+
+"A very clever hoax!"
+
+And as Elinor stepped forth from behind a neighboring tree, there was a
+look in her eyes that caused the skilful deceiver to bow his head. With
+a slight movement of the hands, the palms turned outward, as if in
+surrender, he offered a mute appeal for mercy.
+
+"So you are that quail!" And slowly up and down she moved her head as if
+realizing with reluctance the bitterness of the discovery. "What fun you
+must have had in fooling me so often and so easily! And the many times
+that I have hurried to that door and waited to hear it again! What was
+my offence that you should pay me back in such a fashion?"
+
+"Oh, don't put it that way! Don't speak like that!"
+
+"And my sentiment about it! My saying that I loved the sound because it
+took me back to my own home in Massachusetts--all that must have been
+very amusing."
+
+"Listen. Let me explain."
+
+"And to keep on making me ridiculous, day after day, when I was on the
+verge of collapse from pure exhaustion--yes, it showed a nice feeling."
+
+"Elinor, you are very unjust. Let me tell you just how it happened. The
+first morning that I could walk as far as this, you left me here at this
+very spot, and you went back to the house. I was told to whistle if I
+wanted anything. You remember?"
+
+Almost perceptibly and with contempt she nodded.
+
+"Well, when I did whistle, I whistled in that way--like a quail. You
+thought it was a real quail and you didn't come out. When finally you
+helped me back you spoke of hearing a quail, and of how much pleasure it
+gave you. You hoped he would not go away." And he smiled humbly, as he
+added: "And you made me promise not to shoot him."
+
+She merely turned her eyes away, over the river, toward the sunset.
+
+"And I thought then that if it gave you so much pleasure, why not keep
+on with it? The Lord knows the favors a helpless invalid can bestow are
+few enough! And the Lord also knows that I have no accomplishments. I
+cannot sing, or play, or recite poetry. At that time I could not even
+start a fire or bring in water. In fact, my sole accomplishment was to
+imitate a bird. 'Tis a humble gift, but I resolved to make the most of
+it."
+
+She stood facing him, about a dozen feet away, a striking figure, with
+the light from the setting sun on her white dress, the dark recesses of
+the wood for a background. Into her face came no signs of relenting. But
+he detected in her eyebrows a slight movement as if to maintain a frown,
+and he ventured nearer, slowly, as a dog just punished manoeuvres for
+forgiveness. Removing his straw hat he knelt before her, his eyes upon
+the ground.
+
+"I confess to a guilty feeling every time I did it. I knew a day of
+reckoning would come. But I was postponing it. I am ashamed, really
+ashamed; but on my honor my motive was good. Please be merciful."
+
+"Are you serious?--or trying to be funny, and not really caring much
+about it?"
+
+"I am serious; very serious."
+
+"Do you realize what a contemptible trick it was--how mean-spirited and
+ungrateful?"
+
+Lower still sank his head. "I do."
+
+"And you promise never to deceive me again?"
+
+"I swear it."
+
+"You value my good opinion, I suppose."
+
+"I would rather die than lose it!"
+
+"Well, you have lost it, and forever."
+
+From the bowed head came a groan. At this point Solomon approached the
+kneeling figure and placed his nose inquiringly against the criminal's
+ear. And the criminal involuntarily shrank from the cold contact. At
+this the lady smiled, but unobserved by the kneeling man.
+
+"Are you sincerely and thoroughly ashamed?"
+
+"Yumps."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Yes, oh, yes!"
+
+"I don't like your manner."
+
+"Please like it. I am honest now. I shall always be good."
+
+"You couldn't. It isn't in you."
+
+"There is going to be a mighty effort."
+
+"Get up!"
+
+He obeyed. As their eyes met, he smiled, but with a frown she pointed
+toward the cottage. "Turn around and walk humbly with your head down.
+You are not to speak until spoken to. And you are to be in disgrace for
+three days."
+
+"Oh! Three days?"
+
+"Go ahead."
+
+And again he obeyed.
+
+Elinor was firm. For three days the disgrace endured. But it was not of
+a nature to demolish hope or even to retard digestion. And Solomon, who
+was a keen observer, displayed no unusual sympathy, and evidently failed
+to realize that his master was in any serious trouble.
+
+On pleasant evenings Pats and Elinor often went to the beach below and
+sat upon the rocks, always attended by Solomon, the only chaperon at
+hand. Here they were nearer the water. And one evening they found much
+happiness in watching a big, round moon as it rose from the surface of
+the Gulf. The silence, the shimmer of the moonlight on the waters--all
+tended to draw lovers closer together. Already the heads of these two
+people were so near that the faintest tone sufficed. And they murmured
+many things--things strictly between themselves, that would appear of an
+appalling foolishness if repeated here--or anywhere. They also talked on
+serious subjects; subjects so transcendentally serious as to be of
+interest only by night. Like all other lovers they exchanged
+confidences. Once, when Pats was speaking of his family she suddenly
+withdrew her hand. "By the way, there is something to be explained. Tell
+me about that interview with your father."
+
+"Which interview?"
+
+"The disgraceful, murderous one."
+
+Pats reflected. "There were several."
+
+"Oh, Patsy! Are you so bad as that?"
+
+"As what?"
+
+"But you did not mean to do him injury, did you?"
+
+"_I_ do _him_ injury?" he inquired, in a mild surprise. "Why,
+what are you driving at, Elinor?"
+
+"I mean the quarrel in the arbor."
+
+"And what happened?"
+
+"You know very well."
+
+"Indeed I do! But there were several quarrels. Which one do you mean?"
+
+"I mean the one when you were violent--and murderous."
+
+"But I wasn't."
+
+"Yes, you were. I know all about it."
+
+"If you know all about it, what do you want me to tell?"
+
+"Tell about the worst quarrel of all."
+
+"That must have been the last one."
+
+"Well, tell me about that."
+
+Pats took a long breath, then began: "The old gentleman was a hot
+Catholic. There was no harm in that, you will think. And I am not such a
+fool as to spoil a night like this by a religious discussion."
+
+"Go on."
+
+"Well, he insisted upon my becoming a Catholic priest. Now, for a young
+man just out of college--and Harvard College at that--it was a good deal
+to ask. Wasn't it?"
+
+"Continue."
+
+"One day in that summer-house he sailed away into one of his
+tempers--did you ever happen to see him in that condition?"
+
+"No, but I have heard of them."
+
+"Well, my mother was a Unitarian. So was I. And the gulf between a
+Unitarian and a Catholic priest is about as wide as from here to that
+moon. It was like asking me to become a beautiful young lady--or a green
+elephant--I simply couldn't. Perhaps you agree with me?"
+
+"Go on. Don't ask so many questions."
+
+"I told him, respectfully, it was impossible. Then as he made a rush for
+me I saw, from his eyes and his white face, that murder and sudden death
+were in the air. Being younger I could dodge him and get away, and that
+so increased his fury that he fell down on the gravel walk in a sort of
+convulsion--or fit. I ran into the house for assistance, and while Sally
+and Martha tried to bring him to I went for the doctor."
+
+A silence followed this story. At last Elinor inquired if his father
+persisted.
+
+"Persisted! That question, oh, Angel Cook, shows how little you knew my
+father! As soon as he recovered he lost no time in telling me to leave
+the house and never see him again."
+
+"And what happened?"
+
+"I vanished."
+
+"Oh!" A sympathetic pressure of his hand and the girl beside him leaned
+closer still. "Horrible! So you wandered out into the world and this is
+your home-coming. Well, Patsy, I shall never treat you in that way. When
+you are very obstinate I shall just put my arms around your neck and
+treat you very differently."
+
+"Well," said Pats, "I think it safer for you to be doing that most of
+the time, anyway. It might stave off any inclination to obstinacy."
+
+Here followed a snug, celestial silence, broken at last by Pats. "Would
+you mind telling me, O Light of the North, where you heard I was the
+attacking party at that interview?"
+
+"No, I must not tell."
+
+"Did Father Burke make you promise?"
+
+"Why do you mention _him_?"
+
+"For lots of reasons. One is that he is the only person on earth who
+could possibly have told you. But it was clever of him to warn you
+against me. I knew from his expression when he said good-by, on the
+boat, that he thought he had settled my prospects, and to his perfect
+satisfaction. However, I don't ask you to betray him. And I bear no
+malice. He did his best to undo me, but Love and all the angels were on
+my side."
+
+She laughed gently. "And you all made a strong combination, Patsy."
+
+Then another long silence, and soon he felt the lady leaning more
+heavily against him. The head drooped and he knew she slumbered. Having
+no wish to disturb her, he sat for a while without moving, and watched
+the moon and thought delectable thoughts of the creature by his side.
+And as his thoughts, involuntarily, and in an amiable spirit, travelled
+back to Father Burke, he smiled as he pictured quite a different
+expression on the face of the priest when he should learn what had
+happened. And the smile seemed reflected in the radiant countenance of
+the big, round moon mounting slowly in the heavens. She appeared to beam
+approval upon him and upon the precious burden he supported. But with
+the drowsiness which soon came stealing over him he saw--or dreamed he
+saw--out in the glistening path of light between the moon and him, not
+far from where he sat, an object like a human face, upturned, moving
+gently with the waves. And mingling among the quivering moonbeams around
+the head was a silvery halo that might be the hair of Father Burke; for
+the face resembled his.
+
+Pats was startled and became wide awake. Even then, he thought he had a
+glimpse of the face with its silver hair, as it drifted out of the bar
+of light into the darkness, slowly, toward the sea.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+FOOD FOR THOUGHT
+
+
+There came, with August, a perceptible shortening of the days. Cooler
+nights gave warning that the brief Canadian summer was nearing its end.
+
+Pats labored on the raft, but the work was long. A float that would bear
+in safety two people down the river's current--and possibly out to
+sea--demanded size and strength and weight. Felling trees, trimming
+logs, and steering them down the river to the "ship-yard," proved a
+slower undertaking than had been foreseen. But nobody complained. The
+air they breathed and the life they led were in themselves annihilators
+of despair. It was an exhilarating, out-of-door life,--a life of love
+and labor and of ecstatic repose.
+
+Both Elinor and Pats were up with the sun, and the days were never too
+long. To them it mattered little whether the evenings were long or short
+or cold or warm, for by the time the dishes were washed and the chores
+were done, they became too sleepy to be of interest to each other. And
+when the lady retired to her own chamber behind the tapestries, Pats, at
+his end of the cottage, always whistled gently or broke the silence in
+one way or another as a guarantee of distance, that she might feel a
+greater security.
+
+As for lovers' quarrels none occurred that were seriously respected by
+either party. In fact there was but little to break the monotony of that
+solid, absolute content with which all days began and ended.
+
+"'Tis love that makes the world go round."
+
+There is no doubt of that, but two lovers, with unfailing appetites,
+however exalted their devotion, are sure, in time, to produce
+conspicuous results with any ordinary store of provisions. In the
+present instance the discovery--or realization--of this truth was
+accidental. It came one morning as Elinor, in a blue and white apron,
+with sleeves rolled up, was preparing corn-bread at the kitchen
+table--so they called the table near the fireplace at the end of the
+room. Pats came up from the cellar with a face of unusual seriousness.
+
+"I have been an awful fool!"
+
+She looked up with her sweetest smile:
+
+"And that troubles you, darling?"
+
+Without replying, he laid three potatoes on the table.
+
+"I told you to get four."
+
+"These are the last."
+
+"Isn't there a second barrel?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why, Patsy! We both saw it!"
+
+"That's where I was a fool. I took it for granted the other barrel held
+potatoes because it looked like the first one."
+
+"But it was full of something."
+
+"Yes, but not potatoes. It is crockery, glassware, a magnificent
+table-set. Old Sevres, I should say."
+
+"What a shame!" And with the back of a hand whose fingers were covered
+with corn-meal, she brushed a stray lock from her face.
+
+"Yes," he went on, "it's a calamity, for we cannot afford it. I took an
+account of stock while I was down there, and all we have now in the way
+of vegetables is the dried apples. Of course, there's the garden
+truck,--the peas, beans, and the corn,--if it ever ripens."
+
+After further conversation on that subject, Elinor said, with a sigh:
+"Well, we did enjoy those baked potatoes! We shall have to eat more
+eggs, that's all."
+
+"Eggs!" and his face became distorted. "I am so chock full of eggs now
+that everything looks yellow. I dream of them. I cackle in my sleep. My
+whole interior is egg. I breathe and think egg. I gag when I hear a
+hen."
+
+"But you are going to eat them all the same. We have a dozen a day, and
+you must do your share."
+
+"I won't."
+
+"Yes, you will."
+
+As Pats's eyes fell on Solomon, he brightened up. "There's that dog eats
+only the very things we are unable to spare. Why shouldn't _he_ eat
+eggs?"
+
+"You might try and teach him."
+
+"Tell me," said Pats, "why hens should lay nothing but eggs, always
+eggs? Why shouldn't they lay pears, lemons, tomatoes,--things we really
+need?"
+
+In silence the lady continued her work.
+
+"Angel Cook?"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"What do you think?"
+
+"I think, considering your years, that your conversation is surprising.
+Eggs are very nourishing, and we are lucky to have them. Didn't I make
+you a nice omelette only a few days ago?"
+
+"You did, and I never knew a better for its purpose. I still use it for
+cleaning the windows."
+
+"Really! Well, you had better make it last, for you won't get another."
+
+"Oh, don't be angry! I thought you meant it as a keepsake."
+
+He approached with repentant air, but when threatened with her doughy
+hands, he retreated, and sat on the big chest by the window. This chest
+had served for his bed since his convalescence.
+
+Elinor frowned, and pointed to the fire. Pats arose and laid on a fresh
+stick, then knelt upon the hearth and, with a seventeenth-century
+bellows, inlaid with silver, that would have graced the drawing-room of
+a palace, he coaxed the fire into a more active life.
+
+"Now go out and bring in some wood. More small sticks. Not the big
+ones."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+THE WOLF AT THE DOOR
+
+
+During dinner, which occurred at noon, there were fewer words that day,
+and with somewhat more reflection than was usual. The store of
+provisions now rapidly disappearing, together with no prospect of
+immediate escape, furnished rich material for thought. Both knew the
+raft might prove a treacherous reliance. Instead of landing them on the
+opposite bank of the river there were excellent chances of its carrying
+them out to sea. And the prevailing westerly wind was almost sure to
+drive them backward to the east again. Pats had been all over this so
+many times in his own mind, and with Elinor, that the subject was pretty
+well exhausted. But still, from habit, he speculated.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts."
+
+He raised his eyes, and as they met her own his habitual cheerfulness
+returned. "My thoughts are worth more than that, for I was thinking of
+you."
+
+"Something bad?"
+
+"I was wondering how many days you could foot it through the wilderness
+before giving out."
+
+"For ever, little Patsy, if you were with me."
+
+"Then we have nothing to fear. We can both march on for ever. You are
+not only food and drink to me,--that is, the equivalent of corncake,
+potatoes, marmalade, and claret,--but your presence is life and strength
+and a spiritual tonic."
+
+"That is a good sentiment," and she reached forth a hand, which he took.
+
+"Merely to look at you," he continued, "will be exhilarating on a long
+march. And to hear your voice, and touch you--why, my soul becomes drunk
+in thinking of it."
+
+"Then you expect to be in a state of intoxication during the whole
+journey?"
+
+"That is my hope."
+
+It happened, a few minutes later, that she herself became preoccupied,
+her eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the little portrait on the opposite
+chair.
+
+"A dollar for your thoughts."
+
+"Why so much?"
+
+"Because any thought of yours," said Pats, "is worth at least a dollar."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"You are thinking, as usual, of that woman. The woman who has my place."
+
+"It is _her_ place; she had it before we came."
+
+"But you ought to be looking at _me_ all this time. I am the person
+for you to think about. I shall end by hating the woman."
+
+"Oh, you mustn't be jealous. You _can't_ hate her. Such a gentle
+face! And then all the mystery that goes with her! I would give anything
+to know who she was."
+
+Pats scowled: "You would give Solomon and me, among other things."
+
+"No, never!" And again she extended the hand, but he frowned upon it and
+drew back into the farther corner of his chair. She laughed. "And is
+Fatsy really jealous?"
+
+"No, not jealous; but hurt, disgusted, outraged, and upset."
+
+"Because I insist upon treating our hostess with respect and recognizing
+her rights?"
+
+"Our hostess! More likely some female devil who beguiled the old man.
+Probably he was so ashamed of her he never dared go home again."
+
+"Oh, Pats! I blush for you."
+
+"It's a silly face."
+
+"It is a face full of character."
+
+"Oh, come now, Elinor! It would pass for a portrait of the full moon."
+
+"Well, the full moon has character. And I love those big merry eyes with
+the funny little melancholy kind of droop at the outer corners. Poor
+thing! She must have had a sad life out here in the wilderness."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+As their eyes met he frowned again, and she, for the third time,
+extended the hand. "A sad life, because she had no Pats."
+
+But he refused the hand. "That is very clever, but too late. The stab
+had already reached home."
+
+She smiled and began to fold her napkin.
+
+"To return to business, Miss Marshall, of Boston, the provisions are so
+low that we really must decide on something."
+
+"How long will they last?"
+
+"Perhaps a month or six weeks. Could you pull through the winter on eggs
+and dried apples--and candles?"
+
+"If necessary."
+
+He laughed. "I believe you could! You are an angel, a Spartan, and a
+sport. Your nature is simply an extravagant profusion of the highest
+human attributes. And the worst of it is, you look it. You are too
+beautiful--in a superior, overtopping way. You scare me."
+
+She pushed back her chair. "You have said all that before."
+
+"You remember the frog who was in love with the moon?"
+
+She regarded him from the corners of her eyes, but made no reply.
+
+"He used to sit in his puddle and adore her. One pleasant evening she
+came down out of the sky and kissed him."
+
+"That was very good of her. And then what happened?"
+
+"It killed him."
+
+Elinor pushed back her chair, arose from the table and stood beside him.
+"Do you think it was a happy death?"
+
+"Of course it was! Lucky devil!"
+
+"Well, close your eyes and dream that I am the moon looking down at
+you."
+
+With face upturned, just enough to make it easier for the moon, Pats
+closed his eyes. In serene anticipation he awaited the delectable
+contact that never failed to send a thrill of pleasure through all his
+being. But the tranquil, beatific smile changed swiftly to a very
+different expression as he felt against his lips--a slice of dried
+apple. And the cold moon stepped back beyond his reach, and laughed.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the table had been cleared and the dishes washed Pats, Elinor, and
+Solomon went out behind the house and stood near the edge of the cliff.
+Eastward, across the bay, Pats pointed to a distant headland running out
+into the Gulf, the highest land in sight.
+
+"As near as I can guess that hill is about twenty miles away. If there
+is nothing between to hinder I can walk it in a day. Now, from that
+highest point I can probably get a view for many miles. Who knows what
+lies beyond? There may be a settlement very near. In that case we are
+saved."
+
+"And suppose there is none?"
+
+"Then I return, and we are no worse off than we were before."
+
+Elinor stood beside him, regarding the distant promontory with
+thoughtful eyes. He put his arm around her waist. "You see the sense of
+it, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose so. How long would you be gone?"
+
+"Not over three days."
+
+"That is, three days and two nights."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And if the ground is very rough, and there are swamps, and divers
+things, it might be longer still."
+
+"Hardly likely."
+
+"And what am I to do while you are gone?"
+
+"Oh, just wait."
+
+She moved away and stood facing him.
+
+"Yes, that is like a man. Just wait! Just wait and worry. Just watch by
+day and lie awake at night. Just be sick with anxiety for four or five
+days. You would find me dead when you returned. Why should not I go with
+you?"
+
+He seemed surprised. Into the ever-cheerful face came a look of anxiety.
+"I am afraid it would be a hard tramp for you, Angel Cook. And there
+would be twice as much luggage to carry, and we should be a longer time
+away."
+
+"I will carry my own luggage."
+
+"Never!"
+
+"But I shall go with you."
+
+"Is that a final decision?"
+
+She nodded, an emphatic, half-fierce little nod, and frowned.
+
+Pats smiled. "Miss Elinor Marshall, I am, as I have before remarked,
+your humble and adoring slave. Your will is law. When shall we start?"
+
+"Whenever you say."
+
+"To-morrow?"
+
+She nodded, this time with a smile.
+
+"Early?"
+
+"As early as you please."
+
+"Then at crack o' dawn we go."
+
+And the next morning, at crack o' dawn, they started off, Pats with a
+knapsack so voluminous that he resembled a pedler.
+
+Elinor thought it too much for him to carry. "You can never walk all day
+with that on your back. Pedestrians that I have seen never carry such
+loads."
+
+"Then you have never seen pedestrians who carry their food and lodgings
+with them. And you forget that we are not in the zone of large hotels."
+
+"I feel very guilty. If I were not along you would have less to carry."
+
+"Have no fears, Light of the North. If one of us three falls by the
+wayside it will be neither Solomon nor myself."
+
+This knapsack consisted of three blankets,--two of flannel, one of
+rubber,--some claret bottles filled with water, and food for five days.
+There was also coffee and a little brandy.
+
+As they started off, along their own little beach, the sun was just
+appearing over the strip of land ahead. Solomon, in high spirits,
+galloped madly about on the hard sand, with an occasional plunge among
+the breakers. But Pats and Elinor, although similarly affected by the
+morning air, economized their steps, for a long day's tramp was before
+them.
+
+At the eastern end of the beach, before entering the woods, both stopped
+and took a final look toward home. A rosy light was on sea and land.
+Beyond the beach, with its tumbling waves all aglow from the rising sun,
+stood the Point of Lory, and their eyes lingered about the cottage.
+Nestling peacefully among the pines, it also caught the morning light.
+
+"Adieu, little house," said Elinor. And then, turning to Pats, "Why, I
+am really sorry to leave it."
+
+"So am I, for it has given me the happiest days of my life--or of
+anybody's life."
+
+In and out among the trees they tramped, three hours or more, with
+intervals for rest, generally through the woods, but always keeping near
+the coast unless for a shorter cut across the base of some little
+peninsula. Elinor stood it well and enjoyed with Pats the excitement of
+discovery. After a long nooning they pushed on until nearly sunset. When
+they halted for the night both explorers were still in good condition;
+but the next morning, in starting off, each confessed to a stiffness in
+the lower muscles. This disappeared, however, after an hour's walking.
+
+Early in the afternoon of this second day's march they stood upon the
+top of the hill which, from a distance, had promised a commanding view.
+But they found, as so often happens to every kind of climber, that
+another hill, still higher and farther on, was the one to be attained.
+So they pushed ahead. Just before reaching the summit of this final hill
+Pats halted.
+
+"Now comes a critical moment. What do you think we shall see?"
+
+Elinor shook her head sadly. "I am prepared for the worst; for the
+wilderness, without a sign of human life."
+
+Pats's ever-cheerful face took on a smile. "I suspect you are right, but
+I am not admitting it officially. I prophesy that we shall look down
+upon a large and very fashionable summer hotel."
+
+"Awful thought!" And she smiled as she surveyed her own attire and that
+of Pats. "What a sensation we should create! You with that faded old
+flannel shirt, your two days' beard, and those extraordinary South
+African trousers; and I, sunburnt as a gypsy, with my hair half down--"
+
+"No hair like it in the world--"
+
+"And this weather-beaten dress. What would they take us for?"
+
+"For what we are--tramps, happy tramps."
+
+Five minutes later they stood upon the summit. To the eastward, as far
+as sight could reach, lay the same wild coast. For several miles every
+detail of the shore stood clearly out beneath a cloudless sky. Of man or
+his habitation they saw no sign. To the vast sweep of pines--like an
+ocean of sombre green--there was no visible limit either to the east or
+north. And southward, over the blue expanse, no sail or craft of any
+kind disturbed the surface of the sea. Here and there along the coast
+shone a strip of yellow beach with its fringe of glistening foam. Not
+far away an opening among the trees, extending inland for several miles,
+showed the grasses of a salt marsh.
+
+In silence Pats and Elinor gazed upon this scene. Beautiful it was,
+grand, indescribably impressive; but it brought to both observers the
+keenest sense of their isolation. The vastness of it, and the stillness,
+brought a vague despair, and, to the girl, a sort of terror. Tears came
+to her eyes.
+
+Pats turned and saw them. His own face had taken on a sadder look than
+was often allowed there, but his eyes met hers with their customary
+cheerfulness. For the first time since their acquaintance, Elinor
+wept--very gently, but she wept. All that a sympathetic and unskilful
+lover could do was done by Pats. He patted her back, kissed her hair,
+and suggested brandy. Her collapse, however, was of short duration. She
+drew back and smiled and apologized for her weakness.
+
+"I am ashamed of myself for breaking down. But it's the first time,
+isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it is; and I have wondered at your courage. But do it all the time
+if you feel the least bit better."
+
+She smiled and shook her head. "No, I shall not collapse again. I shall
+follow your example. You are always in good spirits."
+
+"I? Well, I should think I might be! Here I am alone in the wilderness
+with the girl that all men desire,--and not a rival in sight! Why, I am
+in Heaven! I had never dreamed that a fellow could have such an
+existence."
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+When they descended the hill and started leisurely on the homeward march
+two smiling faces were illumined by the western sun.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+THE HORN OF PLENTY
+
+
+Heavy showers escorted the travellers during the last afternoon of
+their homeward march. Of the trio Solomon was the wettest, for his two
+friends were enfolded in a rubber blanket, drawn over their heads and
+shoulders and held together in front. Thus, by walking arm in arm and
+keeping close together, they escaped a soaking. But Elinor was tired,
+with a tendency to sadness. This was excusable, as the failure of the
+expedition left the choice of a perilous experiment on the raft or of
+starvation at the cottage. Even the saturated Solomon, as he preceded
+them with drooping head, seemed to have lost his buoyancy.
+
+But Pats, whatever his inward state, continued an unfailing well-spring
+of cheerfulness and courage. Not a disheartening word escaped him, nor a
+sign of weakening. And his efforts to enliven his companion were
+persistent--and successful. Being of a hopeful and self-reliant nature
+this task was not so very difficult.
+
+At last, toward the middle of the afternoon, in rain and mist, they came
+to the eastern end of their own beach. But all view was shut out. Both
+the cottage and the point of land on which it stood were hidden in the
+fog. As they tramped along this beach, on the hard wet sand, the wind
+and rain from the open sea came strong against their faces.
+
+"It will be good to get back," said Elinor.
+
+"Yes, but I like this better," and Pats drew the rubber blanket a little
+closer still. "Our life at the cottage is too confined; too cut and
+dried, too conventional and ceremonious."
+
+"Too much company?"
+
+"No, just enough. But too much routine and sameness. Above all, it is
+too laborious. The charm of this life is having no chores to be done. No
+shaving; no floors to scrub or windows to clean."
+
+"Poor boy! And you must work doubly hard when we first get back. To
+begin with, you will have to eat your half of all the eggs that have
+been laid."
+
+"Not an egg! I swear it!"
+
+"Let's see--four days. That will make about thirty-six eggs. You must
+eat eighteen this afternoon."
+
+Their heads were of necessity very close together, and as Pats with a
+frown turned his face to look at her, she continued: "And to-morrow
+being your birthday, you shall have a double allowance. Just think of
+being thirty-one years old! Why, Patsy, it take one's breath away."
+
+"Yes, it is a stupendous thought."
+
+"How does it feel?"
+
+"Well, I can still see and hear a little; and I am holding on to my
+teeth. Of course, the lungs, liver, brain, and all the more perishable
+organs have long since gone."
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"But the heart is still there, and thumping hard and strong for the
+finest woman in the world."
+
+"Well, the heart is everything, and you are a good boy--I mean a good
+old man."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"And as soon as we get to the cottage I shall--" She pressed his arm,
+stopped suddenly, and listened. "Why, what was that?"
+
+"What was what?"
+
+"Out on the water, off the point there. I heard a noise like a
+steamboat."
+
+Both listened.
+
+"Are you sure?" he asked.
+
+"I certainly thought so."
+
+Again they listened. Nothing was heard, however, except the lapping of
+the waves along the beach.
+
+At last, in a low tone, Pats muttered:
+
+"A whole fleet might be within a mile on a day like this and nobody know
+it. Are you sure it wasn't Solomon? He is a heavy breather sometimes."
+
+She sighed. "Very likely. With this blanket about one's ears anything
+was possible."
+
+They started on again. A few moments later the final shower had ceased.
+Swiftly the clouds dispersed, but the mist, although illumined by the
+sun, still lingered over land and sea. Solomon, followed by his friends,
+climbed the gentle ascent at the end of the beach, and as they hastened
+on among the pines all felt a mild excitement on approaching the
+cottage.
+
+Gathered about the doorway, as if to welcome the returning travellers,
+stood a few white hens and the pompous rooster. To this impressive bird
+Pats took off his hat with a deferential bow.
+
+"Glad to see you again, Senator."
+
+"Why 'Senator'? Because nobody listens when he talks?" Elinor had been
+to Washington.
+
+"Yes; and he knows so little and feels so good over it."
+
+From its hiding-place behind the vines, Pats took the key and opened the
+door. With a military salute he stood aside, and the lady entered. He
+followed; and as he unslung his knapsack Elinor looked about her with a
+pleased expression.
+
+"How rich it all is!" she exclaimed. "I had forgotten what a splendid
+collection we had."
+
+Pats drew a long breath, as if to inhale the magnificence.
+
+"Are you familiar with bric-a-brac shops?" he asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And with the rooms of old palaces and chateaux that are opened only
+when visitors arrive?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, this is that smell."
+
+She also inhaled, and closed her eyes. "So it is."
+
+"It's the tapestries and old wood, and the bloom on the paintings, I
+suppose. But it's good. I like it."
+
+"It's a little musty, perhaps, but--"
+
+She stopped so suddenly that Pats turned toward her. With a look of
+surprise she was pointing to the dining-table, close beside them. In the
+centre of this table, and very white against the dark oak, lay an
+envelope. Upon it had been placed a silver spoon to prevent disturbance
+from any possible gust of air through the open door.
+
+"Some one has been here!" And she regarded Pats with startled eyes.
+
+Before touching the letter he instinctively cast a look about the room
+for other evidence. While he was doing it, Elinor pointed toward the
+farther end of the cottage, to the kitchen table, and whispered:
+
+"Look!"
+
+Upon that table rested a pile of cans, boxes, and sundry packages. For a
+short moment both regarded in silence this almost incredible display.
+Then Pats took up the letter. On the envelope was no address--no name
+nor writing whatsoever. He turned it over in his fingers. "I suppose it
+is intended for the old gentleman, the owner of the place."
+
+"And how careful they are that nobody shall know his name."
+
+"There must have been several men here to bring up all these provisions,
+and whoever left the letter had no intention of giving the old gentleman
+away," and Pats tossed the letter upon the table.
+
+Elinor in turn picked it up and looked it over. "I _would_ like to
+know what it says."
+
+"So would I," said Pats. "Let's open it."
+
+"Open another man's letter!" And she frowned.
+
+"It may not be a letter. It may be some information as to when they are
+coming again, or what he is to do about provisions or something
+important for us to know. Our getting away from here may depend on what
+is inside that envelope."
+
+"Yes, that is possible."
+
+"Well, open it."
+
+But she handed it back to him. "No, _you_ must do it."
+
+Pats tore open the envelope. Elinor stepped nearer and stood beside him,
+that she also might read.
+
+"It is in French." Then he began
+
+"_Monsieur le Duc_--"
+
+"Why, the old gentleman was a duke!" exclaimed Elinor.
+
+"I am not surprised. You know we always suspected him of being a howling
+swell. But this writing and the language are too much for me. You really
+must read it." And he put the paper in her hands.
+
+Elinor's French was perfect, but after the first sentence Pats
+interrupted:
+
+"Translate as you go along. It is too important to take chances with,
+and I never was at home in that deceitful tongue."
+
+Elinor dropped into the chair that stood beside her. Pats sat upon the
+edge of the table.
+
+    Monsieur Le Duc:
+
+    It is with a grand regret that I find myself unable to pay my
+    respects in person to your Grace, but a broken ankle keeps me a
+    prisoner in the cabin. If there is anything your Grace wishes to
+    communicate, have the extreme goodness to send me a note by the
+    bearer. He can be trusted. I leave the stores following last
+    instructions. Enclosed is the list. The bearer will bring to me
+    your new list from behind the door, if by chance you are not at
+    home.
+
+                        Your Grace's devoted servitor,
+                                              Jacques Lafenestre.
+
+She laid the letter on the table. "What a shame! It really tells us
+nothing."
+
+"Not a thing. Lafenestre might at least have mentioned the date of the
+next visit."
+
+"They all seem dreadfully afraid we may learn something." She took up
+the other paper and unfolded it. "This is the list."
+
+Then she read:
+
+  "Four sacks corn-meal,
+  Two sacks Graham flour,
+  Four boxes crackers,
+  Two barrels potatoes."
+
+"Those must be downstairs," said Pats. "I see the cellar door is open."
+
+Elinor continued:
+
+  "One box lemons,
+  Four dozen candles,
+  Four dozen Pontet Canet,
+  Six pounds tobacco--"
+
+"Good!" said Pats. "Just what we need."
+
+She went on:
+
+  "Four pounds coffee,
+  Four boxes matches,
+  One pocket-knife,
+  Six pairs woollen socks,
+  Six old maids--"
+
+"Six _what_?"
+
+"Six old maids: _vieilles filles_--that is certainly old maids."
+
+"Yes, but, Heavens! What does he want so many for? And where are they?
+In the cellar?"
+
+She smiled, still regarding the paper. "But you needn't worry. They are
+something to wear. It says six old maids, extra thick and double
+length."
+
+"Double length! Well, each man to his taste. Go on."
+
+"That is all," and she dropped the paper on the table and looked up into
+his face. Thoughtfully he stroked the three days' beard upon his chin.
+He was watching through the open door the last clouds of mist as they
+floated by, driven before the wind.
+
+Suddenly he jumped to his feet. "Then you were right about the boat! You
+_did_ hear one. And it was here an hour ago!"
+
+Quickly he snatched a shotgun from the wall, rushed out of the house,
+down to the edge of the point and discharged one of the barrels. He
+shouted at the top of his voice, fired the second barrel and shouted
+again. For a few moments he stood looking off into the slowly dissolving
+fog, listening vainly for an answering sound.
+
+Elinor joined him.
+
+"I know it's of no use," he said, "for the wind is in the wrong
+direction. But I thought I would try it."
+
+A moment later the final cloud of mist in which they stood was swept
+away, giving a clear view over all the waters to the south. And they
+saw, disappearing toward the west, around a promontory, a speck upon the
+blue horizon, and behind it a line of smoke.
+
+In a melancholy silence both watched this far-away handful of vapor
+until it faded into space. When no trace remained of the vanished craft,
+Pats dropped the empty gun, slowly turned his head and regarded his
+companion. In Elinor's eyes, as they met his own, he recognized a
+gallant effort at suppressing tears. Remembering her resolve of
+yesterday he smiled,--a smile of admiration, of gratitude, and
+encouragement.
+
+She also smiled, for she read his thoughts. And something more was
+plainly written in his face,--that self-effacing, immortal thing that
+lovers live on; and it shone clear and honest from this lover's eyes.
+Whereupon she stepped forward; he gathered her in his arms, and an
+ancient ceremony was observed,--very ancient, indeed, primitive and
+easily executed.
+
+Solomon, weary of this oft-repeated scene, looked away with something
+like a sigh, then closed his eyes in patience.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+PILGRIMS
+
+
+Another June.
+
+Along the northern shore of the St. Lawrence Gulf, through the cold,
+gray light of early dawn, a yacht was steaming eastward.
+
+Leaning against the rail, near the bow, a woman with eager eyes watched
+the elusive coast. But this coast, in the spreading light, was rapidly
+revealing itself, becoming less ethereal, more savage and majestic. The
+woman was daintily attired. Every detail of her apparel, from the
+Parisian hat to the perfect-fitting shoes, while simple and designed
+expressly _pour le voyage_, was sumptuous in its simplicity.
+Although about thirty-five years of age, her round, rather wide face,
+graceful figure, and vivacious expression would have made deception easy
+if she cared to practise it. In feelings, in manner, and in appearance,
+she was eighteen. And she would never be older. A peculiar droop at the
+outer corners of two large and very dark eyes, and a mouth--too small
+for the face--with a slight and rather infantile projection of the upper
+lip gave a plaintive, half-melancholy expression to an otherwise merry
+and youthful face.
+
+Behind her, pacing to and fro, a strongly built, elderly man with heavy
+face and heavy hands, also watched the coast.
+
+"_Voila, Jacques_!" and the lady pointed to a promontory in front,
+just revealed by the vanishing mist. "_Le voila, n'est-ce pas_?"
+
+The man stepped forward and stood beside her. After a careful scrutiny
+he replied, also in French:
+
+"Truly, I think it is."
+
+"_Ah, le bonheur_! At last! And how soon shall we land?"
+
+He hesitated, stroking the end of his nose with a stubby finger. "In
+less than two hours."
+
+"In less than two hours! Absurd! You mean to say in less than twenty
+minutes, is it not?"
+
+He shrugged his shoulders in respectful protestation. "But, Princess,
+deign to remember that we are still some miles from this headland, and
+that Monsieur, your father, is yet farther away,--some fifteen miles, at
+the very end of the bay which lies beyond."
+
+She frowned and turned away. "Are we going as fast as possible?"
+
+"I think so."
+
+"Well, if you are not sure of it, Jacques, go down and tell that
+engineer to enliven his exasperating machinery. Make everything turn
+faster, or I shall jump into the sea and swim ahead. It is of a slowness
+to rend the nerves."
+
+Jacques Lafenestre moved away to carry out this order. From his youth up
+he had served this lady and her parents. And when the father, for
+excellent reasons, left France in haste and came into the wilderness,
+the old servant followed. Later on he settled in Quebec as keeper of an
+inn. And ever since that day he had maintained communication with his
+master.
+
+As the Princess walked impatiently up and down the deck, erect and with
+elastic tread, often looking at her watch and frowning, she gave the
+impression of a commanding little person, much accustomed to having her
+own way--and with no talent for resignation. And when, a few moments
+later, another individual appeared upon the deck, a tall, thin,
+dark-robed ecclesiastic, evidently of high degree, with fine features
+and a stately bearing, she hastened to express her annoyance. To his
+polite greeting she replied rapidly:
+
+"Good-morning, your Grace; but tell me, did you ever see anything like
+this boat? Did you ever imagine a thing could crawl with such a
+slowness--such a slowness? I shall die of it! I believe the screw is
+working backwards."
+
+The Archbishop smiled,--that is, his mouth lengthened, for mirth and he
+were strangers,--"But it seems to me we move, Princess, and quite
+rapidly."
+
+"Rapidly! Well, never mind. Time and the wind will get us there. But why
+are you up so early? This is an hour when gentlemen are abed."
+
+"I could not sleep."
+
+"Ah, the misfortune! For you may have a hard day. Remember, you are to
+do your best, and use your strongest arguments. You will need them. My
+father is wilful."
+
+"Have no fears, Princess, I shall do all in my power, for the cause
+seems righteous. The Duc de Fontrevault is, as you say, too old a man to
+be left alone under such conditions."
+
+"Surely! And you are the one of all others to convince him. He will not
+listen to the rest of us. And don't fail to impress upon him his duty to
+his family. That is your strongest point, is it not?"
+
+"Yes, and that now he can return with safety."
+
+She shook her head. "No, do not rely too much on that, for he loves his
+wilderness. And he has known for a long time all danger was past. Better
+attack his conscience, and his sense of duty."
+
+"As you say, Princess. And I shall spare no effort."
+
+"Then you will succeed." And looking up with a smile, "You could
+convince anybody of anything, dear Archbishop. A few words from you, if
+you could only get him alone, and the devil himself would turn over a
+new leaf--perhaps join the Church. Who knows?"
+
+For these sentiments his Grace had no responsive smile. This lady from
+Paris, while a good Catholic, seemed to have so little reverence for
+certain sanctities that he was always on his guard. Her nature was not
+of the sort he preferred to deal with. There were too many conflicting
+elements. No one could tell with precision just when she was serious or
+when she was having a little fun. And, moreover, the dignity of an
+archbishop was not a thing to be compromised. But she was a _grande
+dame_, a person of great influence--also of great wealth and a free
+giver. And the Archbishop was no fool.
+
+As they rounded the promontory and came in sight of the bay the emotion
+of the Princess was apparent. Impatiently she walked the deck. With the
+sun once fairly above the water, the little point of land at the farther
+end of the bay showed clearly in the morning light.
+
+She beckoned the old servant to her side.
+
+"There it is, Jacques! I see distinctly the cottage, a little mass of
+green against the shadows of the pines. And surely there is smoke from
+the chimney! My father is an early riser; already up and cooking his
+breakfast. Is it not so, Jacques?"
+
+"Yes, I do not doubt Monsieur le Duc cooks his breakfast at this
+moment."
+
+"What enormous trees!" she went on. "Beautiful, beautiful! And they
+stretch away forever. An ocean of pines! I had forgotten they were so
+tall--so gigantic. How many minutes now, Jacques, before we arrive?"
+
+Jacques frowned and shrugged his heavy shoulders. "I shall not tell
+you."
+
+"Wicked old man!"
+
+And again, through her glass, she studied the coast.
+
+He had carried this lady in his arms before she could walk; he had
+superintended, in a way, her childhood; and so, like many old servants
+in France, he was not expected to bear in mind, at all times, certain
+differences in birth.
+
+With a fresh enthusiasm she exclaimed: "And there, down below, to the
+right, is the little beach--the ravishing little beach! How I loved it!
+Here, take the glasses, Jacques, and regard it."
+
+Jacques regarded. "Yes, it is a good beach."
+
+She dropped the glasses in their case, folded the daintily gloved hands
+upon the rail, and for several moments gazed in silence at the coast in
+front. Her face, in repose, became somewhat sadder, and now there was a
+moisture in the eyes.
+
+"Tell me again, Jacques, just how long it is since you were here?"
+
+"Eight months."
+
+"Much can happen in eight months."
+
+"Yes, without doubt, but then it is to be remembered that when I was
+here last, in the month of September--all went well."
+
+"You did not see him yourself, however."
+
+"No, my broken ankle kept me aboard, but those who went ashore with the
+provisions brought a good report."
+
+"But they did not _see_ him."
+
+"No, for he was away, probably on one of his hunting trips. But why
+disquiet yourself, Princess? We see the smoke rising from the chimney."
+
+"Yes, it is true. You have reason."
+
+When, at last, they arrived, the Princess was one of the first to land,
+and she hastened up the narrow path to the grove above. Although in
+haste to greet her father, she paused among the big trees to inhale the
+piney fragrance. With a smile of rapture she gazed upward and about.
+These old friends! How unchanged! And how many years they carried her
+back! As a very little girl her imagination had revelled without
+restraint and, to her heart's desire, in this enchanted grove. And now
+she was listening to the old-time murmurings, high above--the same
+plaintive whispering--the familiar voices, never to be forgotten--that
+told her everything a little girl could wish to hear, and whenever she
+cared to hear it.
+
+But she lingered for a moment only. With eager steps she hurried toward
+the cottage--picturing to herself an old gentleman's amazement when he
+recognized his visitor.
+
+The door was open. She stood upon the threshold and looked in--and
+listened. No sound came to her ears except from the old clock behind the
+door. How familiar this solemn warning of the passing time! It seemed a
+part of her youth, left behind and suddenly found again. But her heart
+was beating many times faster than the stately ticking of this
+passionless machine. Silently she entered and stood beside the table.
+She saw the hangings, the pictures, the busts, the furniture, precisely
+as she had known them, years ago.
+
+From behind the tapestry came a sound, faintly, as of some one moving.
+She smiled and there was a quivering of the lips. Then, in a low but
+clear voice, she said:
+
+"_Petit pere_"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+REVELATIONS
+
+
+The rustle of a sudden movement--and an exclamation half
+suppressed--came from within the chamber. Then the tapestry was pushed
+aside.
+
+The Princess, at sight of the figure that emerged, took a backward step,
+her smile of welcome supplanted by a look of wonder. Another woman stood
+before her, also pausing in surprise, a hand still holding the tapestry.
+This woman was young and slight of figure, erect, dark-haired, and
+sunburned. In a single glance the quick eye of the Princess took in a
+number of details. She noticed that the stranger wore a jacket so faded
+that no trace of its original color remained; that the skirt, equally
+faded, was also stained and patched. But to the critical Parisian it was
+obvious that these garments, although threadbare, frayed, and
+weather-beaten, fitted extremely well.
+
+Now, while the Princess was the more surprised of the two, the girl in
+the faded garments experienced a greater bewilderment. For this visitor
+bore a startling resemblance to the miniature,--the wife whose grave was
+among the pines. And Elinor stared, as if half awake, at the round face,
+the drooping eyes, and the very familiar features of this sudden guest.
+Even the arrangement of the hair was unchanged, and the infantile mouth
+appeared exactly as depicted in the little portrait that hung beside
+her. Had this portrait come to life and stood near its own chair, the
+effect would have been the same.
+
+But the lady from Paris was the first to find her voice. In French, with
+somewhat frigid politeness, she said:
+
+"Pardon me, Mademoiselle; I expected to find another person here."
+
+Also in French the girl replied:
+
+"Madame is the daughter, perhaps, of the gentleman who lived here?"
+
+The Princess, with her head, made a slight affirmative movement. And she
+frowned more from anxiety than resentment as she asked: "You say
+_lived_ here. Does he not live here now?"
+
+And she read in the face before her, from its sympathy and sadness, the
+answer she dreaded.
+
+Elinor, before replying, came nearer to the table. "Do you speak
+English?"
+
+The Princess nodded, and seated herself in the chair of the miniature,
+and with clasped hands and a pale face, whispered:
+
+"He is--dead?"
+
+Elinor took the opposite chair. "May I tell you about it in English? I
+can do it more easily and better than in French."
+
+"Certainly, certainly. And tell me all--everything."
+
+Bravely the Princess listened. The tears flowed as she heard the story,
+pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, and even trying to smile at times
+in grateful sympathy for the narrator's efforts at consolation.
+
+"Tell me how he looked the day you found him. Did he seem to have
+been--ill--to have suffered?"
+
+"We thought him asleep. There was no trace of suffering. The color of
+his face surprised us."
+
+When the story of his burial was finished, the Princess rose from her
+seat, came around and stood by Elinor, and took her hand. "I owe you so
+much. You were very good and considerate. I am grateful, very grateful.
+He was unfortunate in his life. It is a consolation to know his death
+was happy, and that he was reverently buried."
+
+Then Elinor, after hesitating, decided to ask a question.
+
+"If it is no secret, and if you care to do it, would you mind telling me
+why he came across the water, out here in the forest, and lived in such
+a way?"
+
+"Assuredly! And even if it were a secret I should tell you. In the first
+place, he was the Duc de Fontrevault, a very good name in France, as
+perhaps you know. He fell in love--oh, so fiercely in love!--with a lady
+who was to marry--well, who was betrothed to a king. It sounds like a
+fairy tale, _n'est-ce pas_?"
+
+"It does, indeed!"
+
+The Princess was now sitting on the arm of Elinor's chair, looking down
+into her face, in a motherly, or elder sisterly, sort of way.
+
+"Well, you would know all about the king if I told you. He died only the
+other day, so you will soon guess him. _C'etait un vaurien, un
+imbecile_. My father not only loved this--"
+
+She stopped, abruptly, leaning forward with one hand upon the table.
+"_Mais, Mon Dieu!_ there is my portrait! My old miniature of twenty
+years ago! How came it there?" And she pointed to the opposite chair.
+
+"We found it hanging there when we came, and have never disturbed it."
+
+"You found it hanging there, on the back of that chair?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"My own chair--where I used to sit! So, then, I was always before him!"
+
+Elinor nodded. In the eyes of the Princess came fresh tears. She
+undertook to say more, but failed; and getting up, she walked around the
+table and dropped into Pats's chair, gurgling something in French about
+the _petit pere_. Then she broke down completely, buried her face
+in her hands, and made no effort to control her grief.
+
+When she recovered composure, her self-reproaches were bitter for
+allowing so many years to go by without a visit to this devoted parent.
+Smiling as she dried her eyes,--the eyes with the drooping corners, old
+friends to Elinor,--she said: "You, also, had me for a guest all this
+time."
+
+"No, for a hostess. It is your house."
+
+"And where do _you_ sit?"
+
+"Here, where I am."
+
+"Then I have been your _vis-a-vis_?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The Princess smiled. "Well, my face must be terribly familiar to you.
+Perhaps you recognized me at first?"
+
+"Yes; I supposed you must be his daughter. But we believed the portrait
+to be your mother."
+
+"How amusing! But poor mamma! there is no portrait of her here. She came
+away in too much of a hurry to stop for trifles."
+
+She studied the miniature in silence, then, leaning back in her chair:
+
+"_Mais, voyons!_ I was telling something."
+
+"About your father--why he came here."
+
+"Ah, yes! Well, for a man to marry, or try to marry--or to dream of
+marrying--a princess formally betrothed to a king was _quelque chose
+d'inouie_. But he was badly brought up, this little father of mine:
+always having his own way,--_un enfant gate_,--you know, a child
+made worse--a child damaged--hurt--what am I trying to say?"
+
+"A spoiled child."
+
+"Of course! But the King also was a spoiled child, which is to be
+expected in a king. However, that did not smooth things for my little
+father, as the King was beside himself with rage--furious, wild!"
+
+"He was jealous?"
+
+The Princess laughed--more of a triumphant chuckle than a laugh. "And
+well he had reason!"
+
+"Then the lady preferred your father to the King?"
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ She had eyes." Then, with a slight motion of a hand:
+"And she had sense."
+
+Elinor smiled. "But a king is a great catch."
+
+The little lady shrugged her shoulders. "That made nothing to her. She
+was as good as the King. She was a _grande_ princess. Not an
+every-day princess, like me."
+
+"Are _you_ a princess?" Elinor asked in surprise.
+
+"Yes, an ordinary princess--the common, every-day kind. But _she_
+was a _princesse royale_. And so he did this." With a comprehensive
+gesture of both her hands she indicated the tapestries, paintings,
+busts, furniture, and the entire contents of the house.
+
+"You mean he brought his own possessions off here, across the water?"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"And did he bring the Princess with him?"
+
+"What a question! It is evident, Mademoiselle, that you were not
+acquainted with my father, the Duc de Fontrevault."
+
+"Then this princess was your mother?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And that is her grave out there, beneath the pines, next to his?"
+
+The Princess nodded, and blinked, but smiled: "Poor mamma! She only
+lived a few years after that; I was nine when she died."
+
+"Were you born here?"
+
+"In there." And she glanced toward Elinor's chamber.
+
+"You must have had a lonely childhood."
+
+"No. In those days we had a servant--and a cow."
+
+"But why should your father and mother escape to this wilderness? Surely
+a woman may marry whom she pleases in these days."
+
+"Certainly. But an agent was sent to arrest my father--on a legal
+pretext--and in the quarrel this agent--also a gentleman of high
+rank--was killed. So that was murder. Just what his Majesty wished,
+perhaps. And my father, in haste, packed a few things on a ship and
+disappeared."
+
+"A few things!"
+
+"The King never knew where he went. Nor did any one else. But enough of
+myself and family. Tell me of your coming here. And of your friend. Is
+she still here?"
+
+"My friend was a man."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+The Princess raised her eyebrows, involuntarily. "Pardon me if I am
+indiscreet, but you are not married?"
+
+"No."
+
+Now this Parisian, with other Europeans, had heard startling tales about
+American girls; of their independence and of their amazing freedom. She
+leaned forward, a lively curiosity in her face. To her shame be it said
+that she was always entertained by a sprightly scandal, and seldom
+shocked.
+
+"How interesting! And this gentleman, was he young?"
+
+But the American girl did not reply at once. She had divined her
+companion's thoughts and was distressed, and provoked. This feeling of
+resentment, however, she repressed as she could not, in justice, blame
+the Princess--nor anybody else--for being reasonably surprised. So, she
+began at the beginning and told the tale: of the stupid error by which
+she was left with a man she hardly knew on this point of land; of their
+desperate effort to escape in September, by taking to a raft and
+floating down the river; how they failed to land and were carried out to
+sea, nearly perishing from exposure. She described their reaching shore
+at last, several miles to the east. And when she spoke of the early
+snow, in October, of the violent storms and the long winter, the
+Princess nodded.
+
+"Yes, I remember those winters well. But we were happy, my father and
+I."
+
+"And so were we," said Elinor.
+
+"Then this stranger turned out well? A gentleman, a man of honor?"
+
+"Yes, oh, yes! And more than that. He gave his life for mine."
+
+From the look which came into Elinor's face, and from a quiver in the
+voice, the sympathetic visitor knew there was a deeper feeling than had
+been expressed. She said, gently:
+
+"You are tired now. Tell me the rest of the story later."
+
+"No, no. I will tell you now. One morning, about a month ago, the first
+pleasant day after a week of rain, we started off along the bank of the
+river to see if the flood had carried away our raft--the new one. Just
+out there, in the woods, not far from here, I stepped to the edge of the
+bank and looked down at the water. The river was higher than we had ever
+seen it,--fuller, swifter, with logs and bushes in it. Even big trees
+came along, all rushing to the sea at an awful speed."
+
+"Yes, I know that river in spring. The water is yellow, and with a
+frightful current,--fascinating to watch, but it terrifies."
+
+Elinor nodded. "Fascinating to watch, yes. But Pats told me--"
+
+"Pats?"
+
+"My friend. His name was Patrick."
+
+"And Pats is the little name--the familiar--for Patrick?"
+
+"Sometimes."
+
+"Ah, I never knew that! But pardon me. Please go on."
+
+"He told me to come back--that the bank was undermined by the river and
+might give way. He said: 'Whoever enters that river to-day leaves hope
+behind.' At the very instant I started back the earth under me gave way,
+and--and, well, I went down to the river and under the water--an awful
+distance. I thought I should never come up again. But I did come up at
+last, gasping, half dead, several yards from the shore. The current was
+carrying me down the river, but I saw Pats on the bank above, watching
+me. His face was pale and he was hurrying along to keep near. Oh, how I
+envied him, up there, alive and safe!"
+
+"Poor child! I can well believe it!"
+
+"He cried out, 'Try and swim toward the shore! Try hard!' And I tried,
+but was carried along so fast that I seemed to make no headway. Then I
+saw him run on ahead, pull off his shoes and outer clothes, slide down
+the bank and shoot out into the water toward me."
+
+"Bravo!" exclaimed the listener. "Bravo! That was splendid!" And in her
+enthusiasm she rose, and sat down again.
+
+Elinor sank back in her chair. But the Princess was leaning forward with
+wide open eyes and parted lips.
+
+"Then what happened?"
+
+"He reached me, caught me with one hand by my dress between the
+shoulders, and told me again to swim hard for the shore. It seemed
+hopeless, at first, for the current was frightful--oh, frightful! It
+washed us under and tried to carry us out again. But Pats pushed hard,
+and after an awful struggle--it seemed a lifetime--we we reached the
+shore."
+
+"Ah, good!"
+
+But in the speaker's face there came no enthusiasm. She closed her eyes,
+leaning back in her chair as if from physical weakness. The Princess got
+up, and once more came and stood by the girl's chair, and gently patted
+a shoulder.
+
+"Tell me the rest later. There is no haste."
+
+"I shall feel better for telling it now. I started to climb up the bank.
+It was steep, all stones and gravel, and a few little bushes. The stones
+gave way and kept letting me down--slipping backward. He was still in
+the water. I heard him tell me to go slow and not hurry. He was very
+calm, and his voice came up from beneath me, for--" and here she
+laughed, a little hysterical laugh--more of a sob than a laugh, as if
+from over-taxed nerves--"for I seemed to be sitting on his head."
+
+The Princess also laughed, responsively.
+
+"I shall never know just how it happened, but in one of my struggles the
+whole bank seemed to slide from under me into the river. I clung to a
+bush and called to him, and tried to look down, but--he was gone."
+
+A silence followed. The Princess rested her cheek against Elinor's hair,
+and murmured words of comfort. "How long ago did this happen?"
+
+"A month ago."
+
+More from sympathy than from conviction the Princess said:
+
+"He may return. Stranger things have happened. Perhaps he was carried
+out to sea--and rescued."
+
+Elinor shook her head. "He was buried beneath the rocks and gravel. If
+he had risen to the surface, I should have seen him, for the day was
+clear. No, I know where he is. I see him, all night long, in my sleep,
+lying at the bottom of the river, his face looking up."
+
+"My child," said the Princess, "listen. With your sorrow you have
+precious memories. From what you have _not_ told me of your Pats, I
+know him well. He loved you. That is clear. You loved him. That is also
+clear. Alone with him in this cottage through an endless winter, and
+perfectly happy! _Voyons_, you confessed all when you said 'we were
+happy!' He was the man of a woman's heart! With no hesitation, he gave
+his life for yours: to save you or die with you. Tell me, what can
+Heaven offer that is better than a love like that?"
+
+She closed her eyes and drew a long breath. "Ah, these Americans! These
+extraordinary husbands! I have done nothing but hear of them!"
+
+"He was not my husband."
+
+"But he was to be?"
+
+"Oh, yes!"
+
+The Princess rose, walked around the table and stood beside the chair
+that held her portrait.
+
+"My child, I respect your grief. My heart bleeds for you, but you are to
+be envied." With uplifted eyebrows, and her head slightly to one side,
+she went on: "My husband, the Prince de Champvalliers is good. We adore
+one another. As a husband he is satisfactory,--better than most. But if,
+by chance, I should fall into a river, with death in its current, and he
+were safe and dry upon the bank--"
+
+Sadly she smiled, and with a shrug of the shoulders turned about and
+moved away.
+
+Erect, and with a jaunty step, she walked about the room, renewing
+acquaintance with old friends of her youth: with the little tapestried
+fables on the chairs and sofa; with certain portraits and smaller
+articles. But it was evident that the story she had heard still occupied
+her mind, for presently she came back to the table and stood in front of
+Elinor. With a slight movement of the head, as if to emphasize her
+words, she said, impressively, yet with the suggestion of a smile in her
+half-closed eyes:
+
+"Were I in your place, my child, I should grieve and weep. Yes, I should
+grieve and weep; but I should enjoy my sorrow. You are still young. You
+take too much for granted. You are too young to realize the number of
+women in the world who would gladly exchange their living husbands for
+such a memory." She raised her eyebrows, closed her eyes, and murmured,
+with a long, luxurious sigh: "The heroism! the splendid sacrifice! I
+tell you, Mademoiselle, no woman lives in vain who inspires in an
+earthly lover a devotion such as that!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+NEWS FROM THE WORLD
+
+
+Jacqes soon appeared. As his knowledge of English was scant, the
+Princess gave him the story she herself had heard. Great was his horror
+on learning that when last he came--in September--and left the usual
+provisions, the Duc de Fontrevault had been in his grave since the
+previous June.
+
+He asked many questions. Elinor told him everything that could be of
+interest, and the Princess listened eagerly to these replies. The old
+servant seemed pleased when Elinor turned to him with a smile and said,
+in his own language: "So you are the French Fairy. That is what we
+always called you after finding your letter. Our lives were saved by
+that unexpected supply of food."
+
+Then they talked of other matters,--of what things should be carried
+back to France. And as the strength and energy of the American girl
+seemed to have gone--owing, perhaps, to a too meagre diet--the Princess
+insisted upon having her own maid sent up to pack the trunks. Jacques
+departed on this errand, and to get one or two men. He soon returned
+with them, and accompanied by the Archbishop. With a half-suspicious
+interest His Grace studied this young woman, still seated in her usual
+place by the table, her eyes, with a listless gaze, following the
+daughter of the house as she opened drawers and cabinets.
+
+His Grace was standing by the big tapestry, between the two busts, his
+hands behind him.
+
+"Pardon me, my child," he said with a deep-toned benevolence, calculated
+to impress the guiltless and to awe the guilty, "but what I find it
+difficult to understand is why your friends did not look for you. They
+certainly must have guessed the situation."
+
+Elinor shook her head gently, as if she also recognized the mystery.
+
+"To what do you attribute this singular indifference to your fate on the
+part of your family and friends?"
+
+"I cannot guess. I have no idea."
+
+"It was purely accidental your--your arrival here?"
+
+"Naturally."
+
+In this reply there was something that smote the Archbishop's dignity.
+It seemed verging upon impertinence. Again he scrutinized the faded
+garments, the sunburned face, the hands somewhat roughened by toil, now
+folded on the table before her. His perceptions in feminine matters were
+less acute than those of the Princess. He remembered a young man had
+been a companion to this girl in this cottage, and during a whole year.
+It was only natural that the Princess, in treating this person with so
+much consideration, should be misled by a very tender, romantic heart,
+and by a Parisian standard of morality too elastic and too easy-going
+for more orthodox Christians. Into his manner came a suggestion of these
+thoughts,--his tone was less gracious, a trifle more patronizing. But as
+the victim supposed this to be his usual bearing, she felt no
+resentment.
+
+"It was certainly a most unprecedented--one might almost say,
+incredible--blunder. And in daylight, too."
+
+She nodded.
+
+"Do I understand that you came here in a steamboat?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And the steamboat, after leaving you and the young man, kept on her
+course toward Quebec?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you remember the name of the boat?"
+
+"The _Maid of the North_."
+
+"The _Maid of the North_!"
+
+Elinor took no notice of this exclamation of surprise. In a purely
+amiable manner she was becoming tired.
+
+"The _Maid of the North_, did you say?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But, my child, when was that? When were you left here?"
+
+With a sigh of weariness, she replied: "A year ago this month, on the
+ninth of June."
+
+"The ninth of June," he repeated, in a lower tone, more to himself than
+to her. "Why--then, she was lost between this point and Quebec."
+
+"Lost?"
+
+And Elinor looked up at him with startled eyes.
+
+"Yes." Then he added: "But I see that you could not have known it."
+
+"Do you mean the _Maid of the North_ never reached Quebec?"
+
+"Nothing has been heard of her since the eighth of last June. On that
+day she was spoken by another steamer near the Magdalen Islands."
+
+Elinor had risen from her chair, and stood leaning against the table.
+"That is horrible! horrible! It does not seem possible! What do they
+think became of her?"
+
+"Nobody knows. There are several theories, but nothing is certain. You
+are probably the only survivor."
+
+"But were there no traces of her,--no wreckage, nothing to give a clew?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+With drooping head and a hand across her eyes, she murmured: "Poor
+Louise! And my uncle--and Father Burke!" And she sank back into her
+chair.
+
+The Archbishop took a step nearer. "Did you know Father Burke?"
+
+"He was a dear friend."
+
+At this reply the eyebrows of the holy man were elevated. A light broke
+in upon him. With a manner more sympathetic than heretofore--and less
+patronizing--he said gently:
+
+"Father Burke was a dear friend of mine, also,--an irreparable loss to
+the Church and to all who knew him. Is it possible you are the young
+lady whom he held in such high esteem and affection, and of whom he
+wrote to me? Were you in his spiritual charge, with thoughts of a
+convent?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+Into his face came a look of joy. Then, in a voice brimming over with
+tenderness and paternal sympathy:
+
+"I cannot express my pleasure, my heartfelt gratitude, that you have
+been spared us. Of your exalted character and of your holy aspirations
+our dear friend spoke repeatedly. And now, in your hour of affliction,
+it will be not only the duty, but the joy and privilege of our Holy
+Church to serve you as counsellor and guide."
+
+As the girl made no reply, he went on, in a subdued and gently modulated
+voice:
+
+"At this time more than ever before, you must need the consolation of
+Religion. Am I not right in believing that you feel a deeper yearning
+for the closer love and protection of our Heavenly Father, for that
+security and peace which the outer world can never offer? And too well
+we know that the outer world is uncharitable and cruel. It might look
+askance upon this strange adventure. But the arms of Our Mother are ever
+open. You are always her daughter, and with _her_ there is nothing
+to forgive. All is love, and faith, and peace."
+
+To this deeply religious girl, now stricken and weary, whose heart was
+numbed with grief, whose hope was crushed, these words came as a voice
+from Heaven. She held forth a hand which the prelate held in both his
+own.
+
+"God bless you, my child."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+VOICES OF THE WOOD
+
+
+When the Princess realized the somewhat famished condition of her new
+acquaintance she ordered a tempting lunch from the yacht, and had it
+served in the cottage: fresh meat, with fruit, vegetables, and cream and
+butter--new dishes among the Pines of Lory! Of this repast the
+Archbishop partook with spirit.
+
+"Truly an invigorating air. What an appetite it gives!" And he devoured
+the viands with a priestly relish, but always with arch-episcopal
+dignity. The person, however, for whom the meal was served leaned back
+wearily in her chair, barely tasting the different dishes.
+
+"You will starve, my child," said the Princess, gently. "Really, you
+must eat something to keep alive."
+
+The effort was made, but with little success. And in Elinor's face her
+friend divined an over-mastering grief.
+
+The two women, after lunch, strolled out among the pines, toward the
+bench by the river. It became evident to the Princess, from the manner
+in which her companion leaned upon her arm, that days of fasting--and of
+sorrow--had diminished her strength. Upon the rustic bench Elinor sank
+with a sigh of relief. But into her face came a smile of gratitude as
+her eyes met those of the little lady who stood before her, and who was
+looking down with tender sympathy.
+
+To Elinor's description of how she and Pats found the old gentleman
+reclining upon this same bench, the Princess gave the closest attention.
+Every detail was made clear by the narrator, who took the same position
+at the end of the seat, crossing her knees and leaning a cheek upon one
+hand, as if asleep. Then the Princess, after asking many questions, took
+the vacant place beside her and they sat in silence, looking across the
+river, to the woods beyond. To both women came mournful thoughts, yet
+with pleasant memories. And soothing to the spirit of each was the
+murmur of the woods. To Elinor this plaint of the pines was always a
+consoling friend: a sad but soothing lullaby which now had become a part
+of her existence. It recalled a year of priceless memories. But these
+memories of late had become an unbearable pain,--yet a pain to which she
+clung.
+
+For the Princess, also, there were memories, stirred by these voices
+overhead, but softened by time. Hers was not the anguish of a recent
+sorrow.
+
+From these day-dreams, however, she was brusquely awakened. With no word
+of warning, the girl at her side had sprung to her feet and faced about.
+Into her face had come a look of unspeakable joy. Her lips were parted
+in excitement, and a sudden color was in her cheeks.
+
+This transformation from deepest grief to an overpowering ecstasy
+alarmed her companion. And in Elinor's eyes there was a feverish
+eagerness, intense, almost delirious, as she exclaimed:
+
+"You heard it?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"That sound! The notes of a quail!"
+
+The Princess shook her head.
+
+"Oh, yes, you heard it! Don't say you did not hear it!"
+
+Then, when the Princess, still looking up in vague alarm, gently shook
+her head a second time, Elinor reached forth a hand imploringly, as it
+were, and whispered:
+
+"You must have heard it. The whistle of a quail, back there in the
+woods?"
+
+To the little woman upon the bench these words had no significance, but
+her sympathy was aroused. That sensitive nerves and an aching heart
+should succumb, at last, to despair and loneliness and fasting she could
+readily understand, and she answered, kindly:
+
+"I heard no bird, dear child, but it may be there. Perhaps your hearing
+is better than mine."
+
+At this reply all the joy went out of Elinor's face, leaving a look so
+spiritless and despairing that her friend, who could only guess at her
+companion's thoughts, added:
+
+"Or it may be nothing. You merely dreamed it, perhaps."
+
+Elinor straightened up. She drew a long breath, and murmured, in a low
+voice from which all hope had fled:
+
+"Of course! I dreamed it," and sank wearily into her place upon the
+bench.
+
+Furtively, but with pity in her face, the Princess regarded the drooping
+head and closed eyes; then she stood up and placed a hand affectionately
+upon Elinor's shoulder.
+
+"I understand your feelings. Rest here until the boat goes."
+
+Indicating, with a wave of her hand, the big trees towering high above,
+she added:
+
+"Your last moments with these old friends shall be respected. I am going
+to the two graves over there, and will return before it is time to
+start."
+
+She walked away, into the grove.
+
+Again, among the shadows of these pines, came memories of her childhood,
+with the feeling of being alone in a vast cathedral. And the fragrance,
+how she loved it! And she loved this obscurity, always impressive and
+always solemn, yet filling her soul with a dreamy joy.
+
+In her passage between the columns of this shadowy temple she stopped
+and turned about for a parting glance at her friend. In the same
+position, her head upon her hand, Elinor still sat motionless, a picture
+of patient suffering. For a moment the Princess watched her in silence,
+then slowly turned about and started once again upon her way. Only a
+step, however, had she taken when the color fled from her cheeks and she
+halted with a gasp of terror. Gladly would she have concealed herself
+behind the nearest tree, but she dared not move.
+
+In the gloom of the forest, scarcely a dozen yards away, a figure was
+moving silently across her path in the direction of the cottage. Such a
+figure she had seen in pictures, but never in the flesh. The North
+American savage she always dreaded as a child; and once, at a French
+fair, she had seen a wild man. This creature recalled them both. He was
+brown of color, with disorderly hair and stubby beard, and no covering
+to his body except strips of cloth, faded and in rags, suspended from
+one shoulder, held at the waist by a cord, and dangling in tatters about
+his legs. Bending slightly forward as he walked--or rather glided--among
+the pines, he was peering eagerly in the direction of the house. Had his
+gaze been less intent, he would have seen this other figure, the woman
+watching him in silent terror. Furtively she glanced about the grove to
+see if other creatures were stealing from tree to tree. But she failed
+to discover them.
+
+Now the Princess, while fashionable and frivolous, and reprehensible in
+many ways, was not devoid of courage. And her conscience told her to
+give warning to her friends. This heroic decision was swiftly made. In
+making it, however, her cheeks grew paler.
+
+But she was spared the sacrifice. As she drew in her breath for the
+perilous attempt, she saw the man himself stand still and straighten up.
+Then, before she could utter the warning,--before her own little mouth
+was ready,--the shadowy silence of the wood was broken, not by the
+dreaded warwhoop, but by an imitation, startlingly perfect, of the notes
+of a quail.
+
+That this was a signal to his followers she had no doubt. But suddenly,
+while these clear notes were yet in the air, the stillness of the pines
+was again disturbed by a cry--a cry of joy, intense and
+uncontrolled--from behind her, toward the river. She turned about. In
+astonishment she saw the grief-stricken maiden--a moment ago too weak to
+walk alone--already lifted from the rustic bench as by a heavenly hand,
+now flying in this direction over the brown carpet of the pines, swift
+and light of foot, with wings, it seemed. The savage, too, had heard the
+cry and already he was running toward the approaching figure. And he
+passed so near the Princess that he would have seen her had he wished.
+
+They met, the wild man and the girl. And the mystified
+spectator--mystified for a moment only--saw the maiden fling herself
+upon this denizen of the wood and twine her arms about his neck. And he,
+with a passionate eagerness, embraced her, then held her at arms'
+length, that again he might draw her to him, kissing her hair, mouth,
+forehead.
+
+From the rapturous confusion of exclamations, of questions interrupted
+and unanswered, the Princess understood. For a moment she looked on in
+wonder, fascinated by this astounding miracle. But she soon recovered.
+With a lump in her throat she began backing away, to escape unobserved.
+Elinor, through her tears, happened to see the movement and came
+forward, leading the savage by the hand. With a new light in her eyes,
+and her voice all a-quiver, she exclaimed:
+
+"This is my Pats!"
+
+The Princess courtesied.
+
+"And, Pats, this is the Princess--the Princess de Champvalliers: our
+girl of the miniature."
+
+Pats nodded--for he recognized the eyes with the drooping corners--and
+he smiled and bowed. And the Princess, as she looked into his face and
+forgot the wild hair and scrubby beard, the stains, the rags, and the
+nakedness, met a pair of unusually cheerful, honest eyes, and
+impulsively held out her hand.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+A NUNNERY?
+
+
+In very few words Pats told his story.
+
+As Elinor had believed, he was forced beneath the water by the sliding
+earth and stones; but instead of lying at the bottom he had been carried
+by the under-current far out toward the middle of the river. On coming
+to the surface, more dead than alive, he found himself among the
+branches of an uprooted pine, also speeding toward the sea, at the mercy
+of the torrent.
+
+Numb with cold from the icy water, he clung to this friend all one day
+and night, ever drifting toward the Gulf. At last, when rescued, he was
+barely conscious. And on recovering his wits he found himself aboard a
+Government coaster just starting on a two months' cruise.
+
+"I insisted on being landed. They refused at first, but when I told them
+the situation--of the solitary girl I was leaving alone in the
+wilderness,--they not only put me ashore, but gave me all the provisions
+I could carry."
+
+"Bravo! A boat-load of lovers!" exclaimed the Princess. "And they did
+well!"
+
+"Indeed they did!" said Pats, "for they were pressed for time, and it
+cost them several hours. So, in high spirits, I started westward along
+the coast, expecting to get here in three or four days."
+
+Then, turning to Elinor: "Do you remember the wide marsh we noticed from
+the top of that farthest hill to the east, at the end of our journey
+last autumn?"
+
+"Yes, I remember. We thought it the mouth of a river."
+
+"Well, it _was_ the mouth of a river, with a vengeance. That marsh
+extends for miles on both sides of a river as impassable as ours. Ten
+days I tramped northward up the farther bank. And then, in swimming
+across, I lost nearly all my provisions, and most of my clothes."
+
+With a slight bow to the Princess, he added, "I hope madam will pardon
+these intimate details: also certain deficiencies in my present toilet."
+
+"Make no apologies, and tell everything," she answered, "I am one of the
+family."
+
+Pats continued: "During nine days I travelled south, retracing my steps,
+but on this side of the river. The woods are different up there, with a
+maddening undergrowth, and it soon made an end of what clothes I had
+left. Yesterday morning I saw the sea again."
+
+To every word of this narrative Elinor had listened, absorbed and
+self-forgetful. As for the Princess, she loved the unexpected, and here
+she found it. The more she studied Pats, the better she liked him and
+his cheerfulness,--a cheerfulness which seemed to rise triumphant above
+all human hardship. She took an interest in his unkempt hair and
+barbaric, four weeks' beard, in his scratched and sunburnt chest and
+arms. Even in the tattered remnants of his clothes she found a certain
+entertainment. And she noticed that while he stood talking in the
+presence of two ladies he appeared unembarrassed by his semi-nakedness,
+perhaps from the habit of it. And, after all, what cause for
+embarrassment? How many times, on the beach at Trouville, had she
+conversed with gentlemen who wore even less upon their persons?
+
+Another surprise was given her when a brown setter, from somewhere in
+the forest, came flying toward them, and threw himself upon the long
+lost Pats. And the dog's delight at the meeting was similar to Elinor's.
+He, in turn, was presented to the Princess, who patted his head.
+
+"_Bon jour, Monsieur Solomon_. I am happy to meet you: and for your
+enthusiasm I have the profoundest regard."
+
+Then, as they all started toward the cottage, Pats still answering
+Elinor's questions, there appeared among the pines a black figure which
+recalled pictures of Dante in the forest of Ravenna. This figure halted
+in surprise at sight of the half-naked savage approaching with an easy
+self-possession, a lady on either side. And evidently the savage was a
+welcome object--a thing of interest--of affection even, if outward signs
+were trustworthy. And his Grace, when presented to this uncouth object,
+made no effort at assuming joy. Whether from an unfamiliarity with wild
+men, or from some other reason, this creature proved offensive to him.
+The lately lamented lover appeared politely indifferent to the priest's
+opinion,--good or bad,--and this so augmented his Grace's irritation
+that his words of welcome displayed more dignity than warmth. After
+proper congratulations on the return of her friend, he said to Elinor,
+in impressive tones, with a fatherly benevolence:
+
+"We always rejoice when a human life is saved, but it would prove a sad
+misfortune, indeed, should it cause you to falter in your high resolve
+and return to worldly affairs."
+
+Elinor instinctively edged a little closer to Pats and slid a hand in
+one of his,--a movement observed by the Princess.
+
+His Grace, with yet greater impressiveness in tone and manner, added:
+
+"Yours is not a nature to forget or lightly ignore a pledge once given.
+And please understand, my dear child, it is for your spiritual future
+that I remind you of your solemn words to our dear friend--to him who is
+no longer here to recall them to you, and whose beneficent influence is
+forever gone."
+
+Into Elinor's face had come a look of pain, for these words to a
+conscience such as hers were as so many stabs. Pats frowned. Still
+clasping the fingers that had slid among his own, and with a slight
+upward movement of the chin, he took one step forward toward the
+prelate. But before he could speak the Princess acted quickly, to avert
+a scene. In a vivacious, off-hand manner, yet with a certain easy
+authority, she said, smiling pleasantly in turn upon her three
+listeners:
+
+"You speak of a convent? Ah, your Grace forgets something! Religion is a
+mighty thing. We all know that. But there is one thing mightier--and
+here are two of its victims. 'T is the thing that makes the world go
+round. You know what it is. Oh, yes, you know! And it has made
+archbishops go round, too; even Popes--and many times! And when once it
+gets you--well! _il s'en moque de la religion et de touts les
+Saints_--for it has a heaven of its own. Moreover, we must not
+forget, your Grace and I, that this unconventional gentleman--"
+
+Here she turned a mirthful glance upon Pats and his rags, and he smiled
+as his eyes met hers:
+
+"That our unconventional gentleman has already tried to give his life
+for this girl. Moreover, he will do it again, whenever necessary, and
+she is not likely to forget it."
+
+Indeed not, if truth were in the look that came to Elinor's eyes.
+
+"Princess," said the Archbishop, "this is not a matter for argument. It
+is a question to be decided by the lady's own conscience."
+
+"But I have made no promise," said Elinor. "I told Father Burke it was
+my intention to enter a convent. It was merely the expression of a
+wish--not in the nature of a binding promise."
+
+"But to me," said Pats, smiling pleasantly upon the Archbishop, "she
+_did_ make a binding promise--a very definite promise of a
+matrimonial nature. If she enters a convent--I go too."
+
+Thereupon the Princess laughed,--a gentle, merry laugh, spontaneous and
+involuntary. "A nunnery with a bridal chamber! _Fi, l'horreur_!
+Imagine the effect on the other sisters!"
+
+At this utterance the Archbishop closed his eyes in reprobation. Then,
+with a paternal air he regarded Elinor. "Dear lady, I have no desire to
+argue, or to persuade you against your wishes--or against the wishes of
+your friends. Pardon me if I have appeared insistent. I only ask that
+you will not forget that our Church is your Church--that in sorrow and
+in trouble, and at all times, her arms are open to you."
+
+Then addressing the Princess: "I am the bearer of a message from Jacques
+Lafenestre. The baggage is aboard, and the yacht can sail whenever your
+Highness is ready."
+
+With a ceremonious bow--ceremoniously returned by the group before
+him--his Grace strode slowly away toward the little path that led to the
+beach. The Princess also--after handing to Pats the key of the
+house--moved away in the direction of the two graves, promising the
+lovers another half hour for their parting visit to the cottage. She had
+gone but a few steps, however, when she stopped and wheeled about as if
+moved by a sudden thought.
+
+"You know well the tapestry that screens the chamber. The scene in the
+Garden of Eden?"
+
+Both nodded; and Pats exclaimed: "The most entertaining work of art I
+have ever seen!"
+
+"I give it for my wedding present, so that Madame Pats may have a
+portrait of her husband as he appeared when first I met him."
+
+With a smile and a nod she turned away and the jaunty figure was soon
+lost among the trees.
+
+Once more alone, Pats and Elinor turned and looked into each other's
+eyes; and both discovered an overflowing happiness that choked all
+words--and all attempt at words.
+
+Pats opened his arms. As of old, she entered, and the familiar rite was
+observed.
+
+The surrounding silence remained unbroken. But in the murmuring of the
+pines, in that floating music now dear to both, there came to the
+reunited lovers a subdued but universal rejoicing--felicitations from
+above.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
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