The Yale expositor., 1920-10-14
CHAPTER X.
The Return of the Shadow.

l woke with a heavy heart the next
morning, for l knew that Jim would
be home before long, and that ii would
be a day of trouble. But how much
trouble that day was to bring, or how
far 1t would alter the lives of all
of us, was more than I had ever
thought in my darkest moments.
had to get up early that morning, for
it was just the first flush Of the lamb
ing and my father and l were out
on the moors as soon as ii was fairly
light. AS l came out into the passage
q wind struck upon my face, and there
was the house-door wide open and
the gray light drawing another door
upon the inner wall. And when ]
looked again, there was Edie's room
open also, and De Lapps too, and l
saw in a fash what that giving of
presents meant upon the evening be-
fore. 1t was a leave-taking, and they
were gone.
My heart was bitter against Cousin
Edie as l stood looking into her room.
To think that for the sake of new
conner she could leave us all without
one kindly word or as much as
handshake. And he, too! l was angry
and hurt and sore. and l went out
into the open without word to my
father, and climbed up on to the
moors to cool my flushed face.
When I got up to COrriemuir I
caught my last glimpse Of Cousin
Edie. The little cutter still lay where
she had anchored, but a row-boat was
pulling out to her from the shore. In
the stern / saw a fluttcr of red, and
/ knew that II came from her shawl.
I watched the boat reach the yacht
and the folk climb on to her deck.
Then the anchor came mp, the white
wings spread once more, and away
she dipped right out to sea. I still
saw that little red spot on the deck.
and De Lapp standing beside her.
They could see me Also for I was out
lined against the sky, and they both
waved their hands for a long time,
but gave 1t up at last when they found
that would give them no answer.
stood with my arms folded, feeling
as glum as ever did In my life, until
their cutter was only squire, flick
ering patch of white among The mists
of the morning. 1t was breakfast
time, and the porridge upon the table,
before got back, but I had no heart
for the food.
There's letter here from him."
said my father, pointing to note fold
ed up on the table. ut was in his
room. Maybe you would read it to
u.s."
1t was addressed, In big letters, to
"The Good People Of West Inch," and
this was the note which lies before
me, all stained and faded, as 1 write:
My Friends: I didn't thought to have
left you so suddenly, but the matter WAS
in other hands than mine. Duty and
honor have called me back to my Oil
comrades. This you will doubtless UNI
derstand before many days are passed.
I take your Eide with me as my wife,
and II may be that in some more peace
full time you will see us again at WeSt
Inch. Meanwhile accept the assurance
of my affection, and believe me that I
shall never forget the quiet months
which / spent with you at the time when
my life would have been worth a week.
at the utmost had I been taken by the
Allies. But the reason of this you msy
also learn some day.
Yours,
BoNAvENTURE DE LIssAC.
Colonel des Voltigeurs de la Garde, at
aide-de- camp de s. M. rEmpereur Ma.
poleon.
whistled when came to these
words. written under his name; for
though I had long made up my mind
that our LOGGER could be none other
than one Of those wonderful soldiers
Of whom we had heard so much. who
had forced their way into every cap
ital Of Europe. save only our own.
still had little thought that our roof
covered Napoleon's own aide-de-camp
md n colonel of his Guard