The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1911-03-17
BY
CHARLES GARVICE


| he had suddenly changed places with
some one else. His heart was beating
fast, for the blood was coursing fierce
and swiftly through his veins, as it
does at the first touch of fever.
He had got over the shock of find
ing Cara on the island, and amaze
ment was now replaced by a much
more disturbing and powerful emo
ton. He felt as if he were rowing
away from a land of dreams, kind
of fairyland, more beautiful and en-
| chanting than any Of which he had
read or even imagined. And the fairy
held all his thoughts.
London seasons, and had passed the
ranks of the feminine foe unscathed,
untouched; but he had received his
wound at last. The face, the voice
of the girl of the mill, her every
movement, so supple, 80 full of grace,
held a subtle influence for him. He
rested on his oars and stared before
him, that he might be free to think
of her, to recall her.
Yes; he loved her. That was what
was the matter with him. For him
there could be no happiness unless he
could win her. His heart beat fast
at the thought. Win her! Was it
possible that he could ever be so
fortunate! She had not treated him
quite so coldly as she had at that
first meeting. but she had kept him
at arms length tonight, had forbid
den him to see her again. And to
see her again seemed to Ronald SIS
necessary as It was that he should
breathe. He wanted her as a man
wants food, light, raiment.
He had no plans for the future
|talas! Ronald was a poor hand at
making plans for the future, or even
the present! He was only conscious
that If he could not be near her, have
her by his side, to. keep her there for
ever, nothing else could console him
mot even a share in a buried treas
ure.
AS the treasure crossed his mind
he remembered that he had promised
Cara-he had already begun to think
of her by what was, in his opinion,
the sweetest of all names--to keep
the secret of her presence on the
small island. That was awkward, he
thought, as he left the boat drift
again; he should not have given the
promise; for vane ought to be in
formed of the fact that the island
was inhabited. But the promise had
been given, and 1t was sacred to him.
Fortunately, in a sense, Vane had
turned. in before Ronald had return
ed, and, in the morning, was so busy
that he appeared to have forgotten
Ronald's expedition of the preceding
night; and Ronald. with little self
reproach, refrained from reminding
him of it.
For the first time since their ar
rival Ronald felt tho day drag on his
hands. He went out with his gun in
the morning, but shot nothing-he
did not want to shoot anything; and
at times he took long rests, sitting
on rock and smoking hard, his eyes
fixed in the direction of Cara's island,
which he could not see, because it
was hidden by another and a larger
one of the group.
Later in the day he launched the
boat and padded towards the fairy
land which obsessed him, and his
eyes eagerly sought the tree on the
cliff. But there was no spot of white
to be seen; she had not made the
signal. He gave a sigh of disappoint-
ment and impotence, and rowed back
dispiritedly.
Smithers was at the place
the sailors Of the yacht had made,
and he saluted Ronald cheerfully.
"Fine evening for a row, SIR" he
said, as he tied the painter. "Mr.
vane's gone aboard the yacht, sir.
Thinks he will sleep there"
Ronald was conscious of a sense of
relief; he would be free to think UNI
interruptedly of Cara, to spend the
evening recalling her and dwelling on
the mental picture in which he had
been engaged during the day. He
went over the books that had been
brought ashore to the chalet, and
chose half a dozen, giving unusual
thought to the selection, and chang
ing his mind a number Of times, and
envied the books the touch of her
hand, the gaze of the wonderful eyes.
He started in the boat early IN
the afternoon of the next day, with
the books carefully tied up in piece
of sailcloth, and his heart leapt as he
saw the speck of white-so small that
IT would not attract the attention Of
any one not on the lookout for it
which formed the signal.
He rowed up cautiously, landed,
and was placing the books at the foot
of the tree, when he heard a step,
and, raising his head, he looked up
into the eyes which had been haunt
i,,o Ia RI h &c