Jupiter Lights Part 41

Eve hesitated a moment. Then she obeyed.

Cicely wrapped a shawl about Jack, and laid him down; she set to work and made two packets of clothing--one for herself, and one for the child--slinging them upon her arm; she put on her straw hat, took Jack, and went out, closing the door behind her. Eve, who was waiting outside in the darkness, followed her. She dared not call for help; she hoped that they might meet Paul coming back, or Porley, or the nurse. But they met no one, Paul was still at the big pine. Cicely turned down to the beach, and began to walk westward. Eve followed, moving as noiselessly as possible; but Cicely must have heard her, though she gave no sign of it, for, upon pa.s.sing a point, Eve found that she had lost her, there was no one in sight. She ran forward, she called her name entreatingly; she stood by the edge of the water, fearing to see something dark floating there. She called again, she pleaded. No answer from the dusky night. She turned and ran back to the camp.

At its edge she met Paul. "You promised me that you would not leave the lodge," he said.

"Oh, Paul, I don't know where she is. Oh, come--hurry, hurry!"

They went together. She was so tired, so breathless, that he put his arm round her as a support.

"Oh, do not."

"This is where you ought always to be when you are tired--in my arms."

"Don't let us talk. She may be dead."

"Poor little Cicely! But you are more to me."

His tones thrilled her, she felt faint with happiness. Suddenly came the thought: "When we find her, she will tell him! She will tell him all I said."

"Don't believe her; don't believe anything she may tell you," she entreated, pa.s.sionately. A fierce feeling took possession of her; she would fight for her happiness. "Am I nothing to you?" she said, pausing; "my wish nothing? Promise me not to believe anything Cicely says against me,--anything! It's all an hallucination."

Paul had not paid much heed to her exclamations, he thought all women incoherent; but he perceived that she was excited, exhausted, and he laid his hand protectingly on her hair, smoothing it with tender touch.

"Why should I mind what she says? It would be impossible for her to say anything that could injure you in _my_ eyes, Eve."

Beyond the next point they saw a light; it came from a little fire of twigs on the beach. Beside the fire was Jack; he was carefully wrapped in the shawl, the two poor little packets of clothing were arranged under him as a bed; Cicely's straw hat was under his head, and her handkerchief covered his feet. But there was no Cicely. They went up and down the beach, and into the wood behind; again Eve looked fearfully at the water.

"She isn't far from Jack," said Paul. "We shall find her in a moment or two."

Eve's search stopped. "In a moment or two he will know!"

"Here she is!" cried Paul.

And there was Cicely, sitting close under the bank in the deepest shadow. She did not move; Paul lifted her in his arms.

"The moon is under a cloud now," she explained, in a whispering voice; "as soon as it comes out, I shall see Ferdie over there on the opposite sh.o.r.e, and I shall call to him. "Don't let that fire go out, I haven't another match; he will need the light as a guide."

"She thinks she is on Singleton Island!" said Eve;--"the night we got away."

Her tone was joyous.

XXVI.

PAUL AND EVE took Cicely back to the camp. And almost immediately, before Mrs. Mile could undress her, she had fallen asleep. It was the still slumber of exhaustion, but it seemed also to be a rest; she lay without moving all that night, and the next day, and the night following. As she slumbered, gradually the tenseness of her face was relaxed, the lines grew lighter, disappeared; then slowly a pink colored her cheeks, restoring her beauty.

They all came softly in from time to time to stand beside her for a moment. The nurse was sure that the sleep was nature's medicine, and that it was remedial; and when at last, on the second day, the dark eyes opened, it could be seen that physically the poor child was well.

She laughed with Jack, she greeted her grandfather, and talked to him; she called Porley "Dilsey," and told her that she was much improved. "I will give you a pair of silver ear-rings, Dilsey, when we get home." For she seemed to comprehend that they were not at home, but on a journey of some sort. The memory of everything that had happened since Ferdie's arrival at Romney had been taken from her; she spoke of her husband as in South America. But she did not talk long on any subject. She wished to have Jack always with her, she felt a tranquil interest in her grandfather, and this was all. With the others she was distant. Her manner to Eve was exactly the manner of those first weeks after Eve's arrival at Romney. She spoke of Paul and Hollis to her grandfather as "your friends."

She gathered flowers; she talked to the Indians, who looked at her with awe; she wandered up and down the beach, singing little songs, and she spent hours afloat. Mrs. Mile, who, like the well-trained nurse that she was, had no likes or dislikes as regarded her patients, and who therefore cherished no resentment as to the manner in which she had been befooled in the forest--Mrs. Mile thoroughly enjoyed "turning out" her charge each morning in a better condition than that of the day before.

Cicely went willingly to bed at eight every evening, and she did not wake until eight the next morning; when she came out of her lodge after the bath, the careful rubbing, and the nouris.h.i.+ng breakfast which formed part of Mrs. Mile's excellent system, from the crisp edges of her hair down to her quick-stepping little feet, she looked high-spirited, high-bred, and fresh as an opening rose. Mrs. Mile would follow, bringing her straw hat, her satisfaction expressed by a tightening of her long upper lip that seemed preliminary to a smile (though the smile never came), and by the quiet pride visible in her well-poised back.

When, as generally happened, Cicely went out on the lake, Mrs. Mile, after over-seeing with her own eyes the preparations for lunch, would retire to a certain bench, whence she could watch for the returning boats, and devote herself to literature for a while, always reading one book, the History of Windham, Connecticut, Windham being her native place. As she sat there, with her plain broad-cheeked face and smooth scanty hair, her stiff white cuffs, her neat boots, size number seven, neatly crossed before the short skirt of her brown gown, she made a picture of a sensible, useful person (without one grain of what a man would call feminine attractiveness). But no one cared to have her attractive at Jupiter Light; they were grateful for her devotion to Cicely, and did not study her features. They all cl.u.s.tered round Cicely more constantly than ever now, this strange little companion, so fair and fresh, so happily unconscious, by G.o.d's act, of the sorrows that had crushed her.

Paul was back and forth, now at the camp for a day or two, now at Port aux Pins. One afternoon, when he was absent, Eve went to the little forest burying-ground belonging to Jupiter Light. On the way she met Cicely, accompanied by Mrs. Mile.

"Where are you going? I will go with you, I think," Cicely remarked. "It can't be so tiresome as _this._"

Mrs. Mile went intelligently away.

"I am very tired of her," Cicely continued; "she looks like the Mad Hatter at the tea-party: this style ten-and-six. Why are you turning off?"

"This path is prettier."

"No; I want to go where you were going first."

"Perhaps she won't mind," thought Eve.

When they came to the little enclosure, Cicely looked at it calmly. "Is this a garden?" she asked. She began to gather wild flowers outside.

Eve went within; she cleared the fallen leaves from the grave of the little girl. While she was thus occupied, steps came up the path, and Hollis appeared; making a sign to Eve, he offered his arm quickly to Cicely. "Mrs. Morrison, the judge is in a great hurry to have you come back."

"Grandpa?" said Cicely. "Is he ill?"

"Yes, he is very ill indeed," replied Hollis, decidedly.

"Poor grandpa!" said Cicely. "Let us hurry."

They went back to the camp. Reaching it, he took her with rapid step to her lodge, where the judge and Mrs. Mile were waiting. "You are ill, grandpa?" said Cicely, going to him.

"I am already better."

"But not by any means well yet," interposed Mrs. Mile; "he must stay here in this lodge, and you shouldn't leave him for one moment, Mrs.

Morrison."

Porley and Jack were also present; every now and then Mrs. Mile would give Porley a peremptory sign.

Hollis and Eve stood together near the door talking in low tones. "A muss among the Indians," Hollis explained. "Those we brought along are peaceful enough if left to themselves; in fact, they are cowards. But a dangerous fellow, a _very_ dangerous scamp, joined them this morning on the sly, and they've got hold of some whiskey; I guess he brought it. I thought I'd better tell you; the cook is staying with them to keep watch, and the judge and I are on the lookout here; I don't think there is the least real danger; still you'd better keep under cover. If Paul comes, we shall be all right."

"Do you expect him to-day?"

"Sorter; but I'm not sure."

A drunken shout sounded through the forest.

"An Indian spree is worse than a white man's," remarked Hollis. "But you ain't afraid, I see that!" He looked at her admiringly.

"I'm only afraid of one thing in the world," replied Eve, taking, woman-like, the comfort of a confession which no one could understand.