The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1910-08-04

IN the dark rock. She cleaned whittier
sstll in the entrance for a moment
and then disappeared. She came forth
presently still unclothed, look OF
disappointment on her face.
She had many things to do, much
to occupy her mind, but the first duty
that lay to her hand and the first In
stinct which she followed was that
her nakedness should be covered.
Still warily watchful, still keenly
alert, still fearful apparently OF inter
ruption or observation, she ran across
the beach, her movement as free, as
graceful, as rapid as she had been
Atalanta herself, and disappeared un-
der the trees. The whirr of birds dis
turbed might have marked her pass
age.
After some time sne appeared on
the top of the high bare hill that
crowned the island. She had impro-
vised for herself a covering out of
three or four great fern leaves, soft
and pliable, which she fastened with
palm fibers from shoulder to knee on
either side, her bare shoulders rising
from the rich greenness like white
corolla from it's verdant calyx. She
went more assuredly, now, party be-
cause of the fact that she was clothed
and partly because her first rapid sur.
vey of the horizon revealed the fact
that the ships were gone. She was
glad that this was 90, and yet when
the realization came upon her, she
flung herself down on the grassy crest
and gave way to voiceless agony.
Sometimes there is nothing so ter
rible, she realized, as prayer granted,
as desire accomplished, as undertak'
ing brought to conclusion. The aw-
that hour. Her ruse had worked. Her
object had been attained, yet the
achievement gave her no pleasure.
Her own acts had parted her irrev-
ocably forever from the world and
the one man in it who was the world
for her. He was gone. She who had
made him had sent him forth among
his fellows. She had sacrificed her
self, buried herself alive for him. She
felt as a mother might who expert
ences birth pangs and knows that
with every throb of tearing anguish
her own life ebbs away, passes into
the new life which she ushers into the
world aud gives to men.
Chn ho1 lNno pnr THOUGHT in
those two days in that cave whose
mouth the waters hid. She had
schooled herself to face light and life
without him when she emerged from
her cunning hiding place. She had
waited the long period in order to
make absolutely certain that they
would be gone. And yet, despite her
self, little CLEAN Of hope, bare pos
sibility that he might be there still,
had fingered in her soul and leavened
the awfulness of her grief. Now it
was gone. 1t had sunk beneath the
horizon even as the ships had disap-
peared. She had been bitter against
him. Her soul had revolted because
he had failed. She had told herself
that he was not worthy Of her. She
forgot these things in that profound
and desolate moment. She knew only
that she loved him. When she could
think of other things than he, the
mere bodily presence of the man, the
look of him, the sound of his voice,
the pressure of his lips, the clasp OF
his arms, she began to realize that as
he grew older, unless she was so abb
solutely mistaken in him as to make
all estimate of him mockery, he would
realize the falsity of his view, the lit
tleness of his action, and if he were in
truth the man whom she could rightly
love, his years would be one long re-
gret that he had failed. What would
happen when he realized that, when
he came to the knowledge that she
was indeed all that she had seemed
and that he had been nothing that he
should? She knew, as she had writ.
ten, that the man would never, could
never, forget her; that wherever he
went and whatever he did, she would
be present with him; that she had
stamped herself too indelibly upon his
heart for any attrition with humanity
however close and persistent, to erase
the image. He would come back per
haps.
20 Cod" she knelt down and
stretched out her arms, bring him
back" she prayed-a few short, brok
en- words, lacking the eloquence oi
long and studied petition, the appea,
of the heart every throb of which IL
prayer-"bring him back to mel"
She thought that she would have
had him back on any terms. She sale
that she had been mad, fool, not tt
have taken him, not to have gone *
him, not to have married him in any
way, with any conditions, under any
circumstances. All her thoughts were
merged in one great passionate long
ing to be with him.
For the first time in her life the
pangs of jealousy tore her breast. She
thought of him in the world with 9th
er men, with other women, young
handsome, perfect godlike form anC
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