# The House Without Windows/The Sea

II THE SEA
Your flashing waves hold out their arms to me— I entangle myself in their silver hair, And ride with them to catch the wind. The sun trails bright jewels in the water,
dimmer in her mind, and the memory of how the sea bad looked grew brighter. She couldn't see it now, for the was in a valley; but she knew that she was going in the right direction. The spring breeze was blowing; it was not cold, and the breeze stirred the air gently, so that it wasn't hot. Occasional whiffs from the meadow came to Eepersip with that breeze; but when the had gone about two miles this fragrance ceased.
That afternoon she came into a great forest where strange. mysterious shadows passed back and forth in a frightening way. She hurried on as fast as she could, but she had to spend a night in it—one alarming, terrible night. The next day she came out, torn and bedraggled with fighting her way through the dense thickets. Several times she had to cross rivers—some of them without a bridge, though luckily none of these was over her depth. Another day had passed. Nightfall found her wearily climbing a very high hill. The reflection of the moon showed her where the ocean was. It seemed hardly any nearer than before! ​The third morning she descended into a rich and fertile valley. A small brook was winding down it, and where the weeping willows dipped into the current it bubbled and sang. This valley was the broadest that Eepersip had yet gone through. But after a long time she came out of it against a high, precipitous cliff. Up the side of this she climbed, digging her toes into the cracks between the rocks, At last she got to the top; and a long, weary climb it had been. She was now on a grassy hill where bloomed daisies shining like stars, and little butter-cups of gold. There were butterflies, too, with brilliant wings, and they hovered and fluttered over the flowers. And lo! there was the ocean, nearer now, with the sun shining on it; and Eepersip could see the surf rolling and foaming. Shrill cries pierced the air—the cries of birds, of seagulls swooping inland in wide circles. And as went on through the waving grass she could smell the delicious salt air of the sea.
But, alas, she met with a hindrance. Between, her and the coast there was a valley extending for miles, and poor Eepersip would have to clamber down a precipitous cliff, through the valley, and up another cliff. Down she went, rather unwillingly but knowing that she would get there sometime. At last she came to the bottom. It wasn't so bad ​down there—there was a lovely lakelet at which she refreshed herself with a drink; it was grassy, and there were flowers. But it was stiflingly hot. There was a patch of pine woods here and there, but it was hot even in the shade of the great trees.
She stumbled on in the almost blinding heat, clambering up the other great precipice—the wall of the valley. From the top she looked down, and, seeing again that ponderous cliff, she wondered how she could ever have got up it. Then she lay down on the grass, and in a moment was asleep.
When she awoke, the strong wind was blowing again. It made her almost fly through the cold, salty air. Before her was the long-sought ocean, with the waves rolling and the gulls swooping, diving and screaming. She flew; her feet could not stay still. She was tired no longer—she didn’t feel the smallest effects of her wearisome journey.
Suddenly she heard a sound—the magical sound of the waves as they crashed on the rocks. In they would come, pounding, roaring, breaking upon the shore. The foam and spume would fly back and leap up into the air. Everything sounded strange—stranger than anything Eepersip had ever heard. No words can describe what she imagined. She never had had such a lot of emotions in her head at the same time. She tried to describe ​them to herself, but soon gave it up as useless. She thought: "Here I am; I see it; you don't need to tell me about it!" And then she realized that she was alone, knowing in her own mind what it was like, yet unable to stop wishing that she could describe the hollow, ringing sound. Was she becoming homesick? No! it was sheer delight.
For a moment she paused. Then she bounded through the yellow sand, and, ever going faster and faster, she came to the edge of her sea. Her longing had been fulfilled.
This beach was almost overhung at one end by a great shelf of rock. The sand was glistening with shells of all colours and bordered with sea-weeds washed up. Tiny sand-pipers' tracks ran all over it. Eepersip stayed there a long time, gazing into the waves, gazing at everything.
The rock-ledge at one end of the beach had been catching her eye for some time. She watched how fearlessly the gulls plunge on quivering wings, down, down, then rose again, covered with silvery drops, to fly here and there. Then she would look back at the little precipice. She thought: "I cannot fly! They do it from the air, but I cannot. I can do it from the precipice! Why not? "Then, aloud: "I will be a bird—I will do it!"
She walked back to the point where the cliff ​towered from the beach. She climbed up. She selected, in the water so far below, a place that was free from the treacherous-looking rocks. Then, swaying her arms a moment and plucking up high courage, she gave a flying leap and landed in the deep water.
Another miracle! She had never had a chance to swim before, but somehow she did it naturally now. It was an instinct in her to kick with her legs and throw out her arms in the right way. Fortunately she had landed in the place without rocks. Shaking herself in imitation of the gulls, so that silvery drops flew from her in all directions, she began to swim about. She played in the water for a time, entranced, singing as she had never done before, even in the meadow. After a while she came out, all shining, laughing and dancing. But it was then too late in the day to play any more; so she lay down on the sand, well out of reach of the tide, and slept, with the murmuring of the sea in ears all night.
I had been high tide; but the tide was now going out, and near the beach the tops of the great rocks were appearing. To Eepersip, who ​had never before been near the ocean, these things which happened every day were strange and delightful, and she could not look at them enough. Each wave was pure blue, topped and trimmed with spray. As the waters drew back Eepersip had to retreat; for the low tide revealed more and more rocks, and the spray that hit upon them flew back farther and farther. Gradually they were left bare and dry, and Eepersip arranged sea-weeds and sea-plants in the little pools left in their hollows. When, at last, high tide came in, she sorrowed to watch them become part of the sea again. But she knew, of course, that when the tide went out other pools would be left—perhaps more than there had been before.
Among the rocks at the back of the beach Eepersip found a pool made by leaping spray from a storm. She trimmed it with sea-weeds of brown and green. She took some of the dried low-tide snails from the rocks around it and cast them into the sea. With her hands she caught some sluggish yet pretty little fishes and put them into her pool. As she was doing this she noticed how the tide was coming in—she had been so intent upon her task that she hadn't seen it. It was now almost up to her. She stopped what she was doing and watched it anxiously, afraid that it was going to reach her ​pool. But, to her great joy, it didn't. The waves lapped as if they wanted it very much, but they couldn't quite touch it; and Eepersip, worried no longer, continued her happy playing.
In this way the days passed, with something new all the time. But she did not forget her little pool. She tended it, putting in fresh plants and rocks, and replacing a fish if it died.
She slept in a crevice in the rocks at the end of the beach.There was a tunnel under the rocks that the water had cut; if she crept to the farther end, no tide could reach her. There was a spring in the pasture in back of the beach, about a hundred yards away, and there Eepersip got her supply of fresh water. It made a merry brooklet which ran bubbling down a small hill and into the sea. When it was stormy she had a habit of merely snuggling under the rocks as far as she could go, to watch the glistening white-caps and listen to the crashing surf. But before she had seen many storms she stayed out when they weren't too severe, and sometimes played about in the waves—and she liked to be ducked.
In her explorations along the shore one day Eepersip found a great raft, made from ​interlacing twigs and plastered over with clay and pitch, Here and there great water-soaked ropes bound it firmly. It had been washed up on the shore, and from a long period in the sea, had become terribly slimy and water-logged. Eepersip hauled it to the water to see if it would hold her weight, but it sank immediately. So she let it dry off in the sun for a long time; and at last, when it had become quite dry, she tried again. This time it held her. It started drifting off to sea with her on it, but she quickly slipped off and took it to shore again. A few days afterward Eepersip found a board, about three feet long and broad enough to serve perfectly as a paddle.
That was what she had wanted. She hauled the raft out to her depth, climbed on to it, took the paddle, and pushed off merrily.
Under strong strokes the water whirled and rushed, and the raft pushed through it. Sometimes she came to a sand-flat, and again to such a deep place that when she looked down all she could see was menacing shadows. Once the raft came into a shoal of carmine-coloured fishes with very long pointed fins. Of course, they scattered in all directions as she came amongst them.
When she had started it was dawn. By midday, with the help of a favourable wind, she was out ​of sight of land. Then she saw that, if she were going to get back to the beach by evening, she must hurry and use her remaining daylight in that direction. So she turned about, with great difficulty because of the wind, and then she started homeward. But everything that had before been favourable was now against her; with her clumsy craft she could make no headway, and the waves were rising higher all the time. So she gave up, thinking that possibly the wind would soon change or calm down altogether. But this did not happen.
She was dashed about wildly, ever going farther from land, and seeing nothing save the unlimited expanse of rough water. Yet, even in her fright, she enjoyed it. She was not hurt at all, and she had only to cling tight to the raft. The sensation of being so dashed set and of riding up and down on the waves was glorious.
All the same, when it began to grow darker, darker, the wind remaining steady, she began to wish she had not ventured forth, but had stayed in shelter and safety at her little beach. She had always had great fun watching the storms, the high spray, the wind-tossed gulls; but now she saw that she had wished for rather too much.
It became steadily blacker, and still she was borne on, making no resistance now, for she saw ​how useless it was. By the faint remaining light from where the sun had set, she saw ahead of her a dark pointed object rising out of the water. She knew that it was a rock; and, afraid of being dashed against it, she began resisting with her paddle. Extreme fright made her strokes powerful, and she actually managed to slow up the raft a little. She came gently against the edge of the rock, fastened her raft to it by means of one of the ropes, and climbed up to its peak. From there, the sea, with its wild waves, was like the sky, full of weird cloud-caves, fringed with light from a hidden moon.
She looked for a long time; she looked steadily. And then, not far off, she saw a dark mass which, outlined against the deep blue of the night sky, appeared to be land—blessed land! She realized that the waves were going straight toward it. With a cry of joy, she unfastened her raft, leaped upon it, gave a useless push with her paddle, and went on.
Soon she came to the shore—a smooth beach, She pulled up her raft, well out of reach of the advancing tide, and started for the bushes to find a place to sleep. For the first time since night had fallen, she noticed the wondrous beauty of the moon, almost full, and the stars that showed faintly their silvery faces. She crawled in among ​the bushes, and, watching all these lovely things and listening to the soft murmuring of the waves, which were now calm again, she fell into a deep, delicious sleep.
The next day the sea was absolutely calm. The sun was shining brilliantly on the water, making it dance and sparkle. Even Eepersip, who was so accustomed to waking in a different place from where she had been yesterday, was surprised to find herself where she was, and she had to rub her eyes hard to make sure that she was not dreaming. Then the whole adventure came back to her—the raft, the windy night, the raging sea, and the happy landing on this shore. There was her raft, lying on the beach just where she had left it.
She got up and started to explore along the beach, but suddenly she stopped short in her tracks; for there, covered with climbing vines and bordered with bright little flowers, was a cottage—a little cottage in the midst of its forest of green leaves and bushes. Beautiful thought it was, for a moment tears came to Eepersip's eyes, Exactly so had her own cottage looked; through all these years she had remembered it—just how it was in every detail. But this recollection soon passed ​away, in the dismay of realizing that she had come to an inhabited place It was all so beautiful—she had wanted to stay and explore—and her hopes were crushed!
She stood stock-still for a long time, looking at the cottage. Nothing stirred within, Everything was quiet—oh! so quiet. Stealthily as a mouse Eepersip crept toward it, opened the door, and went in. A house, a detested house!—one of those houses that she had run away from. Everything came back to her—those foolish coverings on the floors which they called carpets, at the windows those useless decorations called curtains. To think of it! when there was a carpet so much lovelier of green grass or of white sand—and no windows to be curtained!
It was a delightful little room, all the same; with a brownish woolly carpet, a small fireplace, and little blue curtains of a delicate material. It was quite deserted, so she decided not to let it bother her.
A small back door opened into the lovely woods at the back of the house. Quickly Eepersip made her way out into the open; and everything looked twice as lovely as before. How light it was, with all the world a window, instead of those silly little peep-holes fringed about! How much more ​glowingeverything was! Oh, nothing in a house could compare with the world of light that Eepersip lived in!
Out here, the sunbeams made shadows wherever they struck; the birds twittered; the ripples lapped the shore caressingly. Otherwise all was still. But she was not thinking of the sea: she had decided to explore the woodland, for she felt, in a way, that it was her home. Following a little winding path, she came through a grove of white pines carpeted with needles and dotted with gnome-like toadstools of red and yellow, looking very bright and mysterious in that shady place. They were, to Eepersip, like the traces of some elfin revel, perhaps thrones of precious mineral. There were great boulders, too, covered with grey-green lichens some bearing aloft tiny cup-like blossoms of pearly grey—the cups from which the feasters had drunk their flower-wine. Seeing a lighter place ahead, she knew that she was coming out of the pine grove. A flood of pale green radiance greeted her, as she stepped out of the dimness of the woods into a meadow. White and yellow butterflies were fluttering over it in great flocks, with wings shining. Eepersip could hear birds chirping and singing. She passed on through the meadow and came again into woodlands, so thick now that hardly a ​sunbeam could penetrate the dense canopy of leaves.
After a while she emerged into a clearing. In the middle of it there was a pool, almost entirely surrounded with dark green moss, very soft, overhung by a boulder. It, too, had a covering of moss. A tiny stream flowed silently and mysteriously into the pool, which was so dark that Eepersip could just see its floor of dark sand. On the bottom grew strange star-leaved plants, and small fishes were nibbling them. It was all very strange and magical, it was so silent.
Eepersip stayed looking at this pool for a long time, and then she decided to follow the little brook which was trickling into it and see where it came from. She followed it through deep woodland for about three miles. All this way it was sluggish. Then the land changed abruptly; and Eepersip realized that she was climbing a steep and rugged hill. She went up and up on a rough path. It was very hard climbing, and she was becoming tired. At last she got to the top, and her happy eye looked back upon the way she had come.
She saw from that high perch the pool, into which she knew the little brook was trickling; the blotches which were clumps and patches of dark forest; the field, a mass of sparkling green light, ​a brilliant illumination to the gloomy pine forests around it; the cottage, a tiny brown speck in the distance—and the sea, the billowing sea, with the spots of foam, the towering waves, and that green colour which the waves show when they are agitated. She could even see the gulls, no bigger than flies to her, swooping about; but she was too far away to hear their shrill, excited screams. Long and steadily she looked. And then—the strangest thought Eepersip had ever experienced came to her happy mind. "Forgetfulness!" she whispered to herself. "Oh, I loved it so! and then, when it happened that I came to the woodlands again, why—I forgot it. I must go back instantly. But I am so tired!"
Each wave seemed to bring a pain to Eepersip's heart, as she watched the sea, like emerald, stretching away until it seemed to meet the blue sky. Suddenly she sprang to her feet and started down like a wild deer. Tearing through the woodlands, through the dense thickets and the brambles, she came out at last by the pool. But she had no eye for all its beauties; she had no mind but for the sea. She rested a second; than she was on her feet again, plunging, rearing, fighting her way through the woods. She came again, in the depths of exhaustion, into that pool of light, the meadow. ​Unable to move, she sank down in the delicious soft grass and watched the butterflies, like winged jewels, swooping above. Then she fell into a deep, heavy slumber.
She was awakened by shrill cries which pierced the air. Looking up, she saw a flock of gulls with their long, narrow wings, the colour of foam, winging their way toward the sea. Then she remembered that she, too, was supposed to be winging her way toward the sea, and she cried: "O happy birds, I would I were among you, to go with such flashing speed!" It seemed to her that the sea was in her care, and that she, through foolish forgetfulness, had wandered off from it—wandered off from her guarding, leaving it to the mercy of the beasts. Of course, if she had thought a moment she would have seen how out of proportion this was, but she could do nothing but blame herself, and fancy a terrible monster who would come and drink it all up in her absence. And she began fighting and struggling against her tiredness, until, with one desperate effort, she managed to start running again. Then there was no stopping! Her old strength seemed to come back, the strength which she had had before starting her woodland explorations—the result, as she thought now, of a foolish desire. Once she had ​started running again, her feet winged with a great longing, she sped along the ground.
Soon she passed the cottage; and then—there was her sea again, just as she had left it, with the waves beating the sandy shore. The gulls were screaming and diving; everything was excited and trembling. With a cry of ecstasy, Eepersip sprang into the waves
Many happy days Eepersip spent here, living in the vicinity of the hated little cottage. Since she had come from the sea she had worn a mermaid dress of sea-weeds, fastened at the neck by a white shell with a hole through it. Her favourite play was with the waves. She could swim now, even under water, with a speed that surprised herself, and she dived gracefully from all the rocks that she came upon. But it was watching the sea that fascinated her more than anything else. She would sit for hours at a time on the rocks and listen to the waves bellowing beneath her. Sometimes, when they were very high, she would go down on the low rocks and shout with delight when the white spray rushed along and whirled itself up into her face. The waves would wash her over and over and play with ​her in their salty hands, and they seemed rough and wild, something always guided her away from the treacherous rocks which which they headed for.
But she was born to wander, and it was not long before she was off on her explorations again. One sparkling day when the sun danced and glimmered on the little ripples, Eepersip started to explore the shore-line. Every sun-sparkle made her feel happier and happier, and every breath of salty air lighter, until at last she thought she must rise up into the air on strong wings. After exploring quite a while and finding nothing unusual, she sat down on a rock. Her auburn curls goldened in the sunlight, and her brown eyes sparkled.
After she had rested a while, watching the swooping sea-gulls, she decided to collect shells. She went along the beach some way, picking up shells and pebbles. But soon she tired of this and, feeling very hot, flung herself into the sea and played a while in the shallow water. Soon she thought that she would like to take a long swim, and she started out rapidly.
The waves came in higher and higher and brought with them great flocks of gulls sweeping around in wide graceful circles and uttering strange wild cries. Eepersip went on a long way until she saw a great rock ahead, draped with sea-​weeds of a dark green which were floating up and down with the motion of the waves. There were many crabs and snails caught in them. She was borne forward to the rock in a mighty wave, and, clinging to it hard, she waited until the wave drew back before climbing up. After she had rested some time she noticed a shoal of shining little fishes down in the water. Some were gold, some silver, and some had bands of dark blue. They all had ruby eyes. She watched them for a long time, lying on her stomach on the rock. She observed how they nosed down and fed on the oozy sea-plants on the bottom, which were covered with silver oxygen-bubbles. Also she could see, 'way down there, lovely bright corals of all colours. The water was rather muddy, but there was a current coming in underneath, and before long it was perfectly clear. The rock was tremendous, spreading out beneath the surface and going down, down, all covered with slime and sea-weeds. Eepersip was fascinated watching those little fishes: she cared for nothing else. How long might she have watched them if the tide bad not been rising and rising? Now it was touching her dress when a ripple larger than the others came in. And now—a flash of lightning down there in the shadows! Eepersip could not realize what had happened. ​Then she thought: a great brownish-green fish had shot into the middle of the shoal, seized one of them, and carried it off. It was so quick that Eepersip could not think, until some time after it was all over, what had really happened.
She swam to the shore, but, to her surprise, it was quite a different shore from where she had started. She wondered where she was, She landed on a beach of white sand, so fine that it was impossible to hold. It was covered with shells of all colours. These interested her for a long time, and she piled up the whole beach with heaps of them that she had collected, and had a beautiful time playing with herself until—
She saw some footprints! Footprints! They came down on the beach and apparently into the water, then out again, and disappeared in the woods on a narrow path which Eepersip had not noticed before.
But she was not interested in where they went to or where they came from. Her only thought was to get away—away. It was then too late to go out in the sea again—that is, far from shore. The sun-was about to set. She would spend the night there, and then she would wander again. So she lay down and went to sleep.
​The next morning when she woke up she was not alone. A little golden-haired boy with sky-blue eyes was looking at her. They looked at each other for a long time.
"Who are you?" he ventured at last.
Here was a puzzler. "Eepersip Eigleen," she answered. "I mean," she added doubtfully, "I was."
"Who are you now, then?"
"I don't know exactly."
"Why don’t you?"
"I haven't any name now. I'm just somebody. Have you any name?"
"Yes—Toby—Toby Carrenda."
"Do you live here in the woods?"
"Yes."
"In a house?"
He looked at her curiously a moment; then he said: "Yes, of course—don’t you?"
"NO!"
"How funny!"
"Yes, it is." With a little reluctance—"Will you play with me?"
Strange: here was Eepersip, who detested people, asking a little boy to play with her! It was simply that she, not having seen any children for ​a long time, was fascinated by this small boy who seemed so unafraid of her and so natural.
They wandered together on the beach and picked up shells. Then Eepersip asked the little boy if he liked to swim.
"Yes," he said. "But do you think I'd better?"
"Yes—why not?"
"All right."
So he took off all his clothes and went in with her, and they splashed each other and had a lovely time. Eepersip wanted to make him a mermaid dress, but there was no sea-weed right there, and she didn't want to leave him. So they went into the woods to find some ferns to make him a nymph dress. She found a beautiful ferny glade, and sat down and began to weave ferns together, talking to him at the same time. When it was all done he was delighted.
"But, please," he said, "can't I have a shell, too?"
He touched the shell strung up on her sea-weed dress. They looked all over the beach, and at last they found another shell with a hole all the way through. Then he was entirely content.
They went into the woods together and picked flowers, and Eepersip showed him how to make fern dresses and how to weave wreaths of flowers. ​They went into a grove of sunlit white pines and danced there together. Finally the little tiny said: "I'm hungry, Eeserpip."
"It's Eepersip,” she said, "but it doesn’t matter much. I'll find you something to eat." After a while they found some flame-coloured berries, and then Eepersip dug up some white roots of which she was fond.
The boy said: "This is jolly, it is. Is this the way you get your food?"
"Always," she said.
They played a while longer, and then someone called.
Eepersip had a strange feeling at that moment. She could not help feeling a certain reluctance when she had first played with him; then she had decided that he could not have anything to do with the civilized people she hated so, He must be separate from them, perhaps even a wild thing like herself. She felt a sensation of horror when the strange voice sounded. Then he was not alone—then he lived in a house with other people!
Startled, she cried: "Who's that?"
"My mother," he answered.
"Then you don't live here all by yourself?" She had a bitter feeling of disappointment.
"Oh, no."
​"I wish you did." This escaped her before she could think. Strange, that some magic power in this child had already made her say as much as had said.
"I must go now," he said sorrowfully. "But I'll be out this afternoon—I guess."
Eepersip fell on her knees in front of him said entreatingly: "Will you do something me?"
"I will—maybe."
"Don't tell anybody about me."
"Why?"
"Never mind why, but don't, will you?"
"I want to."
"Then I won't play with you any more."
"All right, Eepersip. I won't." She looked at him doubtfully. "I promise you I won't. Goodbye. I like you."
Eepersip was delighted with her little friend. She waited anxiously for him to come out. Presently he came.
"Eepersip," he said, "will you swim with me again?"
They went in again, and this time Eepersip ​showed him how to swim, by holding hint up while he kicked with his arms and legs. After a long time he could swim a little bit by himself; and then Eepersip took him to some rather high rocks and showed him how to jump in. At first he wouldn't do it alone; she took his hand and they jumped in together. After that he did it alone, and screamed with laughter when he came up. Then Eepersip showed him how to go in head first, and he had so much faith in her that he tried it right off. Although he went rather flat, he liked it very much. The next time Eepersip bent him 'way over before he went in, and he straightened out and hit the water clean as an arrow. That was much better, he said.
Eepersip asked him what his mother had said about the fern dress, for he had gone in no quickly that he had forgotten his own clothes. He said that she had asked him about it, and he had said that he found it. Eepersip thanked him for not telling about her.
But she was discovered in spite of her caution. One day when they were playing in the woods, Mrs. Carrenda came out and found them. Eepersip dashed for the waves immediately, in spite of the fact that Toby's mother called: "Don't run away, little girl; I won't hurt you!"
​But Toby began to cry bitterly. "Why did you send her away, Mother?"
"I didn't, Toby. She ran as soon as I came. Who is she?"
That Toby did not answer. There were two instincts equally strong struggling within him—one to obey his mother, and the other to do what the strange girl asked him to with the threat of refusing to play with him if he did not.
"I can't tell you, Mother," he said courageously. It would have been as true if he had said "I don't know," for he knew nothing but her name, after all. However, he never stopped to think that knowing her name was not all there was to knowing her.
Mrs. Carrenda wisely pursued the matter no further; but she determined to keep watch.
Eepersip was much more cautions after this. She was always on the lookout. Several times Toby asked her why she didn't want to be seen. But she would not answer him. She was, however, very kind in all other respects. Several times Mrs. Carrenda found Toby playing with her, but never spoke or let him know. She saw that Eepersip played nicely with him and that they liked each other much; no she did not interfere. Once, however, she put her hands suddenly on Eepersip's ​shoulders from behind and said kindly: "Little girl, don't be afraid of me."
Eepersip sprang to her feet, stared wildly a moment, and then dashed off straight to the sea. But for fear of making Toby very unhappy, Mrs. Carrenda never questioned him about her.
She and her husband had many anxious conferences together. Her husband thought that it was exceedingly risky to let Toby play so unwatched with Eepersip, but Toby's mother did not feel that way at all. Then they talked over the matter of who she was.
One day Eepersip was peeping into the house to see if she could find Toby, for he had not been out to play with her. Looking into the dining-room, she sow him there, eating luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Carrenda. They were talking anxiously, and she was curious, and listened.
"I have it," said Mr. Carrenda suddenly. "Don't you remember those people—the Eeglines, or Eigleens—that came over to the hill near Mount Varcrobis where we lived before we came here? who wanted to know if we had seen a strange little girl, dressed all in ferns? She is the Eigleens' lost little girl."
Mrs. Carrenda looked puzzled.
"They told us, you know, that they had given ​up all hope of having Ee—ee—serpip" (Toby started violently) "back again—"
"Oh yes, I remember now."
"—When Fleuriss came, and—"
"Oh yes, it all comes back to me now. They were making a great effort to find her and entice her bark home by telling her about her baby sister."
"Yes."
"Why, father," said Toby," Eepersip—"He suddenly saw her in his mind, kneeling in front of him, begging him not to tell—and he said no more. Nobody noticed his remark.
A moment Mrs. Carrenda gazed at her husband astounded. Then she said: "I believe it is so. Let us send word to them right off."
"No," said Mr. Carrenda, bluntly. "Supposing they came all the way down here. Supposing the plan failed. Mrs. Eigleen would only be unhappier than ever. We'll just have to let them alone for a while. Supposing we try it. Supposing it fails. Mrs. Eigleen will never know. Supposing it succeeds. They will be much happier, and we shall have made some staunch and grateful friends."
"Oh, let's try it!" agreed Mrs. Carrenda.
"I bet Eepersip—Ee-serpip, Eeserpip, ​Eepersip, Eeserpip, Eepersip — funny name I — I bet she'll go home fast when she finds out."
"Perhaps—but she is like a sea-nymph now. How strange it is! Well, it's worth trying, at any rate."
Eepersip had listened with growing amazement—fascinated, entranced. But when they paused in their conversation, the charm was broken that had held her there. She sped away into the woods. She came to a place that she knew well, a glade surrounded by ferns and a few wild-rose-bushes now in bloom.
She had a little sister!—it was too much. And that little sister haunted her dreams and her imagination, making everything seem less joyful than before. She felt a strange longing—the longing to see her. She might he several years old now. Eepersip had forgotten what a "year" meant, but she had a vague feeling that Fleuriss had been living some time already. Why had no one told her? She felt a sort of angry resentment, but it cooled immediately when she remembered that her parents had been trying desperately to tell her. Yes, a plan was certainly shaping itself in Eepersip's mind—but not the plan of letting herself be caught, tamed, and carried home. No indeed. She dreamed of some day going home by stealth, ​seeing Fleuriss, and playing with her as she now played with Toby. She wondered silently if she would be anything like the fair-haired little boy. She wondered whether Fleuriss, too, would play with her secretly. If Fleuriss were like Toby, how wonderful it would be!
But the problem of getting back home to see her did not appear so serious to her now while she had Toby to play with.
She continued her beloved explorations, discovering islands, beaches, peninsulas, and rocks out of sight of land, which she charted down in her mind, so that she could almost always find them.
One day Toby came to her and told her that they were going off on a tramp, rowing over across the bay to the woods near a little cottage that Mr. Carrenda knew about. They had always been interested in the cottage; they wanted to see who was living there. And they had heard about some beautiful hills behind it, which Mr. Carrenda wanted very much to see. And if it was pleasant they were going to start the next day. Eepersip was curious. She wondered if it could possible be her cottage and her hills—the cottage she had ​discovered, and the hills that she had climbed about in. She decided to follow and see where it was that the Carrendas were going.
When the boat started she let it get some way off, then she plunged into the sea and followed it. The waves came up behind, and she gained fast, but when she got dangerously near she stopped for a while, waiting for the boat to get farther off. They landed just where she thought they might—by the little cottage.
Near it they set up their tent, and soon they were exploring the peninsula. They climbed the beautiful hill which Eepersip had climbed. Once they saw her as she darted behind a tree, and wondered how she had got there so quickly. And they fell to talking about her again. She heard them talking over their plan of capturing her, telling her about Fleuriss, and, when she had been smoothed down a bit, letting her go back to the Eigleens to make them happy. If only they could have foreseen!
They tried only once, and never had the chance again. It was a golden day in October. Eepersip was sitting on a rock repairing some tears in her sea-weed dress. The waves were high, and every once in a while a little spray would splash up on to the rock where she was sitting. Mr. Carrenda ​discovered her sitting there, and, tiptoeing forward he caught her by the shoulders. She gnashed her little white teeth at him and struggled to get away, but he held her fast, and was about to pick her up in his arms. She shouted: "O waves, help me!" And, magically, a great wave rushed up, whirled itself into the air, and broke in Mr. Carrenda's face. He dropped her, and with a lightning manœuvre she dived down from the rock into the sea, and was far out before he recovered from the surprise. After this she remained far from the cottage and made her home on a deserted island. This island was a lovely place. It had a beach of fine sand on one side and was entirely surrounded with rocks on the other sides—rocks and, in places, even high cliffs. There was a grove of yellow pines there, where Eepersip danced when she wished to turn nymph again. There was a spring of fresh water on a small hill behind the grove. The hill was still covered with blueberries and raspberries; also there was a multitude of the plants with the sweet white roots that Eepersip was so fond of. There were asters, too, and Eepersip wove them in with her ferns or sea-weed, and crowned herself with them. Very happy to find not a single house on the island, she lived there for a long time, glad also to be able to have both the sea ​and the woods, to which she still instinctively returned occasionally. The period through which she stayed on this uninhabited island was one of the happiest stretches of her life by the sea.
But, now that she was alone again, Eepersip was filled once more with longing to see the little sister—to know her, love her, play with her, teach her to leap and dance and swim: filled with curiosities about what was going on at the home which she had been away from for so long. And these emotions grew and grew until they became a firm resolution. She struggled a while to prevent herself from thinking she had made a mistake in running away, and, thinking it all over, said that she had not, even if she did miss such exciting things as little sisters.
The plan of seeing Fleuriss had become more and more developed. now that she saw little of the boy and had more time to think about it (It was only once in a while that she swam to the mainland to play with him.) Her idea had changed a great deal: it now was to take Fleuriss away to live with her. She wondered whether she could ever get her over those awful crags, through that shadowy forest, to the sea whether she could make her comfortable living the wild He. Here was a difficult situation, for Eepersip was sure that so young a ​child could never endure the hardships of the life she lived—at least, until she was used to it.
This problem troubled her mind for days. Then, suddenly, as she was gazing over the restless murmuring sea, she had a great inspiration, "Oh! beautiful!" she exclaimed in her delight. The vision of the little brown cottage in the grove of white pines had come back to her—the whole thing, how she had been borne to it on her raft by those friendly yet terrible waves. And now she had a use for it! It seemed strange, when she hated houses so. But then, no one need know. She would go at once and make sure whether the Carrendas had gone from their camp, then fix up the cottage and discover all its secrets. Then she could go and take Fleuriss away.
So one cold day she swam back to the cottage. The Carrendas' tent was gone; everything was as it had been before. But this time it did not appear hateful. She opened the door and went into pleasant little living-room with the fireplace. Then she investigated the whole house shore thoroughly. She found a room with glass cupboards on the walls, filled with a marvellous collection of all kinds of sea-weeds, shells, and corals (how Fleuriss would enjoy them! she thought); and there was a tiny kitchen, There was one small attic room, with a ​ladder going up to it through a trap-door, and in it was a soft little bed with warm blankets, and a fireplace. Above the bed were three casement windows, and Eepersip liked to think how it would delight Fleuriss to see the stars out these. When she went to the second floor she came to a snug alcove with glass doors opening on to a porch, free to the wind and sun, overlooking the sea: and two sunny bedrooms.
But just as she was preparing to start after Fleuriss, her reason again detained her. Fleuriss of course could not begin her wild life in the winter: she must have a summer of it first, to sec what it was like. So Eepersip waited patiently till spring. During the winter she lived in a great pasture on a hill behind the cottage.
The spring came round incredibly soon, and again Eepersip prepared to start.
The night before she went a great black cloud came up from the west, and soon a gale was raging. The waves mounted higher than any Eepersip had ever seen before, topped with flying snow-white spray. They leaped the highest cliffs, thundered on the wet rocks, and then retreated, ​awashing down through the cracks with a strange hollow sound and sweeping the sea-weeds wildly up and down. The wind sounded as on a mountain-top, a curious mixture of high-pitched whistling and bass droning. Occasionally it would rise into a terrific scream, making the waves rage with the uncanny storm-green. At the crisis of the storm Eepersip, who had been standing on the beach watching, her curls flying, her ferns fluttering and often tearing loose, flung herself into the storm from a high rock, and was swept about like a tiny insect, disappearing under a wave, bobbing up to take a breath just as the next breaker washed over her. She had a glorious time out in the waves and the spray. The sea-gulls shrieked; sometimes they struck at a fish, and appeared all covered with spray and shaking the drops from their wings—strong narrow wings that beat down the air as the birds rose again, to hover and swoop and plunge. These marvellous birds being blown wildly in the gale reminded Eepersip of the swallows, as they were tossed about by the high pasture winds—the swallows she had loved so when she lived on the meadow.
Slowly the wind abated its fury, and Eepersip, covered with water-drops and spray like a silver fish or a sea-gull, swam to the shore bubbling with ​happiness ,With the stater still standing on her hair, she sand a sea-song on the beach, accompanied by the rocking waves, now calmed down, and by screaming and wildly circling gulls.
It was a wonderful night afterwards, for soon the sea was entirely calm, and the moon and the stars came out, reflecting themselves in trembling silver. Eepersip was up all that night, dancing singing, swimming and diving in the glorious moonlight. And then she remembered—to-morrow! and went up on the hill to say good-bye to the meadow, the pastured hill, and quiet, mossy pool that she had loved so.
Up on the hill she saw the sun rise. First the dark blue sky turned grey, and then a pearly streak came on the horizon as the first ray of the sun appeared; then it turned to the most heavenly shad of pink and deep rose, and then into the blue of one of the most gorgeous days Eepersip had ever seen. She gazed and gazed at the dawn until it grew pale and buttercup yellow, and finally turned to blue. The sun made a mass of gold sun-sparkles on the sea, and they blended together from the high hill and formed a solid splotch of gold, separating at the edges into individual sparkles. It was a windy day, but the wind was warm, and at first the sea was only rippling gently and smiling.
​Then Eepersip remembered her little sister Fleuriss, and she wished her already there to share that beautiful, beautiful day. And off at one end of the beach she found, to her delight, a little green boat with two oars, which had been washed in by the storm. Now she had everything she needed, for the clumsy raft was difficult to manage in the wind, and she might even be blown so far off that she could never find the cottage again Now, however, all was ready.
And so she made her way home, beginning in the boat, and rowing to where she had first entered the sea; then past the great precipices over which she had so laboriously clambered as she went to the sea. over hills, down into valleys, crossing rivers, and tearing her way through forests, until at last, to her delight, she arrived at the beautiful meadow where she had spent her first years of wildness with Chippy, Snowflake and the deer.
The deer did not remember Eepersip; that was one thing which distressed her. But a little fawn came cautiously and sniffed at her, obviously wishing he dared to approach and ear the ferns of her dress. She did not see Chippy anywhere.
She was soon at her own house, spying around, and looking in windows. All she could think of was Fleuriss, her little sister.