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Laa diagrammas suivants lllustrant la mathoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MKIOCOnr IISOIUTION liST CHAIIT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) ^ APPLIED IIVHGE In BST'- '653 East Main Street ^■g Rochester. New rork U609 USA ^= (716) *8Z - OJOO - Phono ^S ("6) 2BB- 59^0 - Fax f.-5 Cv CS^ ^ '- ^'^ ROCKHAVEN Tbe Old Tide-hill. ROCKHAVEN BY CHARLES CLARK MUNN AUTHOR OF '• POCKITT ISLAND " AND •< ONCLE TERRY ' ILLUSTRATED Br FRANK T. MERRILL TORONTO McLEOD AND ALLEN 1902 POBLnUKD MABCH, 1902. ^f-^i OopTBiavt, IMS, ar L>b ard Shbpab*, AU BtgMa Settrvtd. Nottoooti ymw J. ■. CwbliiK k Co. - Benriek * Nonrood Mih. U.8^ 00938162 VLtt boat, or I'll give ye a check.' ' Checks don't go here,' J said, ' but if yo've got real money, 'n' mean business, it's yourn at that figger.' Then ho went off, 'n' I was so sure I'd never set eyes on him ag'in I went ter sleep. It didn't seem five minutrs till he blew in ag'in. ' How many acres o' that ledge do ye own,' he said, ' an' how many goes with the quarry ? ' ' Wall,' I said, ' there's about a hundred. * BOCKIIAVBN 'n' if that ain't nuff ter keep ye busy blastin' the rest o' yer nateral life, I'U throw in the hull o' Norse Hill jist ter bind the bargain,' fer I didn't no more s'pose he meant bizniss than I s'posed I'd got wings. ' Wal,' he says, puUin' out a roll o' bills bigger'n ray arm. ' Here's the kale seed, an' when ye'U show me what I'm buyin' 'n' a deed on't, it's yourn.' "Wal, I jist pinched myself, ter see if I was 'wake, an' jumpin' off the counter, fished a deed out o' my safe 'n' took it 'long, an' showed him round the ied{ believin' all the time when he'd seen it, he'd tell me ter go soak my head, er suthin' o' that sort. But he didn't, an' arter I got hold o' the money 'n' counted it, wondcrin' if it wasn't all bogus, 'n'give him a receipt, 'n' he'd gone off, I went 'n' stuck a pin into ray leg, jist ter be sure I was awake, after all. That was a week ago," continued Jess, lighting one of the cigars he had set forth, "but I didn't say nuthin' 'bout it till I'd gone ashore with the money an' the hank folks hed said it was all right, 'n' now I think I've lost jist a thousand dollars by not askin' four for't. Why, the loonytic acted as though he owned a printin' press that made money, an' was goin' all the time." " Wish I'd been ashore," observed Captain Moore, who was one of the group, " I'd a tackled him ter ON KOCKHAVEN 6 buy the Nancy Jane. She's been lyin' inside o' the harbor, half full o' bilge water, fer more'n a year, an' ain't wuth scuttlin'. Ye'd orter 'a thought on't, Jess, an' persuaded him he could 'a used 'r to carry stun in." " An' if I'd a-knowed it," put in Cap'n Jet Doty, another of the group, " I'd a tried him on 'bout a hundred kit o' mackerel we've got that's a trifful rusty. He cud a-used 'em somehow. Ye'd orter think o' yer neighbors, Jess, in such a case, an' let 'em in on't." " I dunno but ye're right," responded Jess ; " but I wus caught nappin', 'n' I cac'late that if any o' ye hed been woke up by sech a lubber with gray whisk- ers, like stun'sls, an' dude does like these jackdaw yachters wear, an oflferin' ye two thousand dollars fer what ye'd sell fer fifty, an' no takers, ye'd a-bin sot back, so ter speak. If I'd a hed time ter think an' knowed what an easy mark the cuss was, I'd a-laid ter sell him the hull island 'n' divided it up all round." And be it said that if all the landowners of Rock- haven had obtained even what they valued their hold- ings at, they would have sold cheerfully, for oat of the eighty odd square miles of the island, not one quarter was of soil, and much of that so sandy that " BOCKHAVMT only bayberry bushee and wild roses grew on it, or else thickets of stunted spruce. The only means of livelihood to most was the sea, and if nature had not endowed the island with a capacious land-locked har- bor and a few acres of productive soil beyond it, and shut in by waU-like shores, Kockhaven would have been left to the sea-gulls that infested its cliffs, or the fish-hawks that found its harbor good fishing ground. " What 'd ye s'pose he's goin' ter do with it, now he's got it ? " put in Cap'n Doty, when Jess had fin- ished his recital, and having in mind his stock of rusty mackerel. " WiU he come down here 'n' go ter quarryin' ? " > "Mebbe he wants it fer ballast fer a new boat," in- terposed young Dave Moore. " Or fer buildin' a house," put in Dave's brother, Sam. " Cheer up, uncle, we may sell him the Nancy Jane yit. He'll hev ter hire or buy suthin' ter carry stun 'way from the island. He can't make a raft on't." " An' if he does," asserted Cap'n Moore, address- ing Cap'n Doty, who sat opposite him on a cracker barrel, "ye'd git a chance to work off them mackerel." " I dunno what he's goin' ter do with it," assorted Jess, when a pause came, " nor care, so long's I git t'other thousand as is comin' when deeds is passed. ON BOCKIIAVEN 7 I ain't sure I'll git that, either," he added candidly, " but if I don't the quarry's still mine 'n' a cool thou- sand o' that freak's good money's gone out o' circu- lation anyhow, which is some comfort." Then came a lull in conversation, and in place the popping of more corks and " Here's to yer good luck, Jess," as bottles were elevated and pointed downward. " Come, Jess," said Dave Moore, when this second libation had been indulged in, and who was in a mood for hea'iig yams, "tell 'em 'bout old Bill Atlas." Now this tale, antedating the day and generation of most of Jess Hutton's auditors, was nevertheless a favorite with him and one he always enjoyed tell- ing. " Wal," he said, " if ye want ter hear 'bout old Bill, I'll tell ye, though some o' ye here hez heerd 'bout him afore, I reckon. It's been a good many years since Bill took to his wings, humsoever, 'n' so his hist'ry may be divartin'. Bill used ter live all 'lone in a little shack he'd built out o' drift, half way 'tween here and Northaven. That i .le slept thar nights when he was ashore, fer he was away fishiii' most o' the time. He were the worst soaker on the island, an' from the time he sot foot ashore 'n' got his pay until every cent was spent, he didn't draw a sober 8 BOOKRAVEK i :! ■i 'I breath. Thar wan't no use arguin' with Bill, or doin' anything to reform him. Jist the moment he got a dollar, jist that moment he started in ter git drunk V alius succeeded. Even Parson Bush, who hed jist come here then 'n' anxious ter do good, failed on Bill. No 'mount o' argufyin' 'bout the worm that never dies or the fate o' sinners hed a mite o' influ- ence on Bill. " ' Parson,' he'd say, ' ttiar ain't no use a-talkin' ter me. Licker was made ter be drunk, else why was it made at all, W if the Lord Almighty didn't cac'late fer me ter drink it, why did he make me hanker for't ? Ye jist 'preach ter them as is like ter mind it an'U foller it. I ain't, an' it'll do no good.' An' then Bill 'd roll away an' fill up. He wa'n't a quar- relsome cuss, jist a good-natured soaker who meant ter git drunk, 'n' done it, an' never meant ter bother nobody when be was. " But some on us young folks in them days sot out to hev fun with Bill once upon a time, an' we did, an' more'n that, we joggled him so he quit drinkin' fer most a year. He'd had one er two fits o' tremens afore that time, 'n' had sorter got skeery 'bout seein' things, so our trick worked fust rate. One o' the smacks hed jist brought in a hogfish that day, an' it was the worst lookin' critter that ever growed in the ON KOCSnATEN 9 sea. It weighed 'bout fifty poun' 'n' was 'most all mouth 'n' teeth. Bill was up in the comer o' a fish house sleepin' off a jag when the critter was h'isted onto the dock, 'n' the moment we spied it we said we'd try it on Bill. We told everybody ter keep quiet 'n' then we went at it. Fust we lugged the hogfish over ter Bill's shack, which was out on the end o' a little pint 'n' sorter shut in 'tween the rocks, 'n' then we got an old bit o' sail and went ter work. We sot the critter up on stuns, right in front o' the shack, 'n' made a tail 'bout forty feet long out o' the s.; ', an' stuffed it nat'ral like, 'n' then rigged lines running over the shanty to work the critter's mouth 'n' tail up 'n' down when the time come. It was 'long in the artemoon whdn we sot about 'n' we cac'lated Bill 'd wake up sjmetime arter dark 'n' come to his shack in jist the mood ter 'preoiat« the good thing that we bed waitin' fer him. Then to sorter liven up matters, we took a handful o' matches, an' damp- enin' 'em, rubbed the ends round the eyes an' mouth o' the critter, 'n' in spots 'long the tail, where we was to hist it a little. It was clear dark afore we got the trap all sot 'n' baited, 'n' then five on us took the lines and tried the joke. It worked pretty slick, 'n' ter see that critter's mouth, more'n a foot long 'n' full o' teeth, 'n' eyes with rings of phosphorus round 'em, 10 BOOKUATXH a-workin' up an' down, to say no*" 'u' 'bout the tail, would a-skeered a sober man into fits arter dark, let alone one who 'spected snakes. When Bill's wel- come home was all ready, we sot a watch on Bill, who was stili asleep, 'n' the rest on us went home ter sup- per. Then we got together, 'bout two dozen on us that knew Bill best, 'n' gittin' sheets ter wrap up in, to sorter stiffen the hogfiah effect, all hands hid round his shanty an' inside on't. It was purty late 'fore Bill showed up, but he came 'long finally, kind o' wob- blin' some and hummin' : — " ' I'm a gallant laas as ever you see, And the roving sailor winked at me.' " Bill was alius feeJin' that way when half full 'n' now jist happy 'n' comfortable like. There was a new moon that sorter lit up the path, 'n' jist as he got to where it made a turn, 'bout ten feet from the shanty, I made a signal by squeakin' like a gull, an' the boys begun workin' the lines, 'n' 'bout two dozen white figgers rose up from behind the rocks or stepped out o' the cabin. I never knew which skeered Bill the worst, the awful critter snappin' at him thar in the path, or the ghosts, for Bill gave one screech that could a' been heard five mile, 'n' ye never E^en a man run the way he did. He didn't stop ter keep in the path either, but jist went right over the rocks ON ROCKItAVXN 11 anywhere. He tumbled two or three times 'fore he got out o' sight, 'n' you'd a-thought he was made 'o rubber, the way he got up 'n' yelled, ' Help, help, O Lord,' all the time. I'll 'low it was the fust time he'd ever called on the Lord fer help, but it "Au'n't 'ae last, fer he made straight fer the parson's house 'n' begun pummellin' on the door. " ' O Lord, take me in,' he said when the parson opened it, ' I'm come fer at last 'n' the divil's arter me. Pray fer me, parson, an' for God's sake, do it quick ! ' An' then he went down on his knees, 'n' sayin', ' Lordy, Lordy, I'll never drink 'nother drop's long's I live ! ' Parson Bush was a good deal took back, fer he didn't know the joke, 'n' 'lowed Bill had the tremena. ' Better go back to yer shanty, ye sot,' he said, ' an' when you git sober come here 'n' I'll talk with ye,' an' with that he shot the door 'n' Bill jist laid down 'n' bellowed like a calf. 'N' he didn't go back to his shenty, either, that night, not by a jug- ful; he'd seen 'nough o' that spot ter last him quite a spell. 'W when ho did thar wam't nuthin' out o' ordinary, fer we'd chucked the hogfish off the rocks, 'n' 'twas more 'n a year 'foro Bill found out the trick we played, 'n' in all that time he kept sober. He did find out arter a spell, fer a joke like that can't be kept aUus, 'n' when Bill did, he took ter drink agin, 19 BOCKBAVEIT 1'^ 'n' finally jumped off the dock one night in a fit o' the jima 'n' that was the last o' him. It's hard to larn an old dog new tricks." For an hour the little crowd of Jess Ilutton's friends lingered, wondering and speculating on what the outcome of this investment in a granite ledge would be. To most it seemed a piece of folly or the act of a madman. These worthless rocks had stared them in tlio face so many years, had so inter- fered with house building, or the convenient placing of fish racks, or road making, that they had one and all come to hate their very sight. In their estimation they were a nuisance and a curse, and for any sane man to buy. twenty acres of ledge to quarry and transport five hunr' jd miles, seemed worse than folly. Then, having given due expression to this com- mon sentiment, and congratulating Jess upon his good luck, they shook hands with him and went their way. And when the sound of their footsteps upon the one narrow plank walk of Eoekhaven had ceased, and only the murmur of the near-by ocean was heard, Jess, as was his wont when lonesome, drew his old brown fiddle from its hiding place and sought conso- lation from its strings. And also, as usual, the melo- dies were the songs of Bonnie Scotland. CHAPTER II WINN HABDT Winn Hahdy, born and reared where the tinkle of the cow beUs on the hillside pastures, or the call of the village church bell on Sunday was the most ex- citing incident, and a crossroads schoolhouse the only temple of learning, reached the age of fourteen as utterly untainted by knowledge of the world as the birds that annually visited the old farm orchards. And then came a catastrophe in his life which ended in two freshly made graves in the village cemetery, and ho was thrust into tho whirl of city life, to make his home with a widowed aunt, a Mrs. Converse, who felt it her duty to complete his education by a two years' course at a business college. It was a scant educational outfit with which to carve his way to fame and fortime, but many a man icceeds who has less, and Winn might have been worse off. He Lad one unfortunate and serious fact to con- tend with, however, and tl at was a mercurial disposi- 18 u BOCKIIAVXN tion. When the world and his asgociateg seemed to •mile, he soared amid the rosy clouds of optimiBm, and when things went wrong, he lost his courage. His first step in wage-earning (a menial jiosition in a store, with scanty pay which scarce sufficed to clothe him) soon convinced him how hard a iisk earning a livelihood was, and that no one obtained a penny unless he fought for it. Then through the influence of his aunt, he obtained an eaisier berth as copy clerk in the office of Weston & Hill, whose busi- ness was the investing of other peoph/s money, and while his hours of service were less, his pay was no better. Three years of this resulted iu slow advance- ment to a junior bookkeeper's desk and better pay. It also broadened his list of acquaintances, for he joined a club, the membership of which was decid- edly mixed, and not all of the best kind of associates for Wiun. His aunt, a shallow though well-meaning woman, devoted to church work, gossip, and her pet poodle, considering Winn an unfortunate addition to her cares, held but scant influence over him. She fur- nished him a home to sleep and eat in without c st, ur^ed him to attend church with her, cautioned h^^i against evil associates ; but beyond that she could not and did not go. So Winn drifted. He saved a little WIMN tlABDT 16 money, realizing that he must, or be forever helpleM and dependent; ho learned the glang of the town and its ways, and forgot for a time the wholesome lessons of his early life. IIo also grew more mercu- rial, and, worse tlian that, he grew cynical. On all sides, and go where ho would, the arrogance of wealth seemed to hedge him about and force upon him the realization that ho was but a poorly paid book- keeper, and not likely to become aught else. And then a worse mishap befell him — he met and bcciune attached to Jack Nickerson. There is in every club, and in erery walk in life, wherever a young man's feet muy stray, some one it were better he never met — a Mephistopheles in male garb, whose wit and ways of pleasure-taking are allur- ing, whose manners are perfect, whose pockets are well filled ; and alas, whose morals are a matter of convenience. That Winn, honest and wholesome-minded coun- try -born fellow that he was, should be attracted by tliis product of fast city life is not strange. It is the attraction that allures the moth toward the flame, the good toward evil. Follow Nickerson in that course, Winn would not and did not ; he merely admired him for his wit, felt half tempted to emulate his vices, absorbed his scepticism — for Jack Nickerson in le lOCKlIAVKN addition to hii vice* wai a cynic of the most impla- cable sort. With him all religion was hyjxHjrisy, all virtue a folly, and all truth a farop. lie had income ■uiBcient to live well ui)on, gambled for a pastime, was at the race tracks whenever chanc? offered, was cheek by jowl with the sporting fraternity, a man about town and hail fellow well met with all. Per contra, he was generous to a fault, laughed most when he uttered his sharpest sneers, was polished and refined in his tastes and a gentleman always. One distinguished novelist has deified such a man, and made him a hero of her numerous tales. To Winn ho appealed more as a fascinating, world- wise sceptic, whoso shafts of satire were gospel truths, and whose Sybarite sort of existence was worthy of emulation, if one only had the money to follow it. Then, as if to cap the climax and Winn's cynical education, he fell in love with Ethel Sherman, a beauty and a natural-bom flirt, whose ideas of life and maternal training liad convinced her that mar- riage was a matter of business, and a means by which to obtain position and wealth. Her family were people of moderate means, liv- ing near neighbors to Winn's aunt and attending the same church. She had an elder sister, Grace, who had, in her estimation, wrecked her life by marrying T WINN IIARDT 17 B poor man. And when Winn Hardy, young, hand- some, and callow, first met her, she was just home from boarding-school, ready to spread her tooial wings, and ripe for conquest. Winn's aunt was also smnowhat to blame in the matter, for she, like many good women, lov d to dabble in match-making, and in her simple mind fan- cied it a wise move to bring one about between Ethel and Winn. Ite results were disastrous to his peace of mind, for, after dancing attendance for a year and spending half he earned on flowers and theatre tickets, his suit was laughed at and he was assured that only a rich young man was eligible to her favor. Then he went back to Jack Nickerson, and, though he outgrew his folly, his impulsive nature became more pronounced and he a more bitter cynic than ever. For two years he was but a cipher in business and social life, a poorly paid bookkeeper in tlio offiou of Weston & Hill, a drop in the rushing, pushing, strenuous life of the city ; and then came a change. CHAPTER III i THE EOCKHAVBN OBANITB COMPANY " Please stop into my private office, Mr. Hardy," said J. Malcolm Weston, head of Weston & Hill, bank- ers, brokers, and investment securities, as stated on the two massive nickel plates that flanked their doorway, " I have a matter of business to discuss with you." Ordinarily Mr. J. Malcolm Weston would have said, "You may step into my private office, Mr. Hardy," when, as in this case, he addressed his book- keeper, for Mr. Weston never forgot his dignity in the presence of a subordinate. It may bo added that he never forgot to address a possible customer as though he owned millions, for J. Malcolm Weston was master of the fine art of obseqi.ious deference, and his persuasive smile, cordial hand grasp, and copious use of flowery language had cost many a cautious man hundreds of dollars. Mr. Weston can best be de- scribed as unctuous, and belonged to that class of men who part their names and hair in the middle, but make no division in money matters, merely taking it all. When Winn Hardy had obeyed his employer's 18 THE BOCKUAVEN GRANITE COMPANY 19 suave invitation and was seated ir his presence, ho was made to feel that he had sudc-enly stepped into a sunnier clime. "It gives me great pleasui,-, Mr. liairly," con- tinued Weston, " to inform you f. „. ,,■.■ i.a^ e decided to enlarge your sphere of duty with us, and I may sav responsibilities. Mr. Hill and myself have consid- ered the matter carefully, and, in view of your faith- ful and efficient services, we shall from now on confide to you the management of an outside matter of great importance. Please examine this prospectus, which will appear tomorrow in all the papers of this city." Winn took the typewritten document tendered him and carefully scanned its contents. To show its im- portance it is given in full, though with reduced headlines : — THE EOCKHAVKN GRANITE COMPANY. CAPITAL, «1,000,000.00. Stock non-assessable. shares Hl.OO each. Par Value, 810.00. President, J. Malcolm Weston. Board of Directors : J. Malcolm Weston of Weston & Hill. William M. Simmons, Member of Stock Exchange William B. Codman, President National Bank of' Discount. Samuel H. Wiseman, Real Estat* Broker. L. Orton Brown, Secretary Board of Trade. Office of Company.- Weston & Hill, Bankers, Brokers, and In- vestments. 30 BOCKHAVEN PEOSPECTUS This Company has purchased and now owns the finest granite quarries in the world, over one mile in length and half that in width, fronting upon the land-locked harhor on the island of Rockhaven. It has a full and perfect equipment of steam drills, en- gines, derricks, an excellent wharf, vessels for trans- porting freight, and all modern appliances for car- rying on the business of quarrying. It is well known that the rapid growth of architec- tural taste produces an ever increasing demand for this, the best of all building stone, and as we furnish the finest quality of granite, having that beautiful pink tint so much admired by architects, you can readily see that our advantages and prospects are limitless. This is no delusive schc:ue for gold mining or oil boring, but a solid and practical business that guarantees sure returns and certain dividends. ^ Our supply of granite is exhaustless, the market limitless, and all that we need to develop this quarry and obtain lucrative returns is a little additional capital. For this purpose fifty thousand shares of the capital stock are now offered for sale at one dollar per share, so that the investor may receive the benefit of the advance to par which will follow, as well as the liberal dividends which will surely accrue. THE BOCKIIAVEN GRANITE COMPANY 21 The price of stock will be advanced from time to time, as it is taken np. Subscription books now open at the office of Weston & Hill^ Financiers. " It reads well," observed Winn, after he had pe- rused this alhiing advertisement, "and I should imagine an investment in a granite quarry might seem a safe one." " Yes, decidedly safe as well as secure," replied J. Malcolm Weston, with a twinkle in his steely blue eyes not observed by Winn. " I wrote that ad with the intention of attracting investors who desire a solid investment for their money, and fancy I have succeeded. You noticed, perhaps, my allusion to gold mines and oil wells that h- ,'e recently proved 'o elusive." Then taking a b( igars, and passing them to Winn, and elevating ..= xeet to a desk, as if to enjoy the telling of a pleasant episode, Mr. Weston continued: "That prospectus (which I pride my- self is an artistic piece of work) will attract just the class of men who have grown suspicious of all sorts of schemes. It is this element of solidity and certainty that we shall elaborate upon. Now I will tell you about our plan and how you are to assist us in carrying it out. As you may recall, I was away %m <-i 22 BOCKHAVBW lit li;: last summer with Simmons on his vaeht, and while on our trip we landed upon nn island called Boct.- haven, up the north coast. It is sort of a double island, half cut in two by a safe harbor, and popu- lated by a few liundred simple fisher-folk. We re- mained there a few days looking over the island, and I noticed that some one had started quarrying the granite of which the island is composed. That, and the location of the quarry, which faced this harbor, set me thinking. It ended in my inquiring out the owner, an eccentric old fellow who kept a small store and fiddled when he hadn't any customers, and finally buying the quarry. I paid him one thousand down, and we are to pay him one thousand more when deeds are passed. We are now going to send you up there to complete the purchase. Daying him the balance, if you can, in stock ; thei. u , 3 men, im- prove the dock, set up the machinery we shaU send you, and begin quarrying operations. That will be one of your duties. The other, and principal,one will be to get the natives interested in this home industry, and sell stock to them. To this end it may be neces- sary for you to give a little away to those whose in- fluence may be of value. We have alveh.-iy booked several orders for building stone, which you will get out as per specifications and shipments. It will bfl TUB BOCKUAVION OBANITE COMPANY 23 necessary for you to hire one or two vessels for this purpose, or else contract for delivery of stone to us at so much per cargo. There is a small steamer which makes regular trips to this island, so we can reach you by mail. " Now there is another matter, also of great im- portance. In order to stimulate your interest in the success of this enterpri.se, we shall make you a present of five hundred shares of this stock provided you can raise the money to purchase, at one dollar per share, another block of five hundred, or, what would an- swer as well, induce your a"nt to do so." It was the glittering bait, intended by the wily Weston to catch and hold his dupe, Winn Hardy. " I have some money laid away," answered Winn, his sense of caution obscured by this alluring offer, " and with a little help from my aunt, I feel sure I can manage it ; at least, I will try." " We do not need this investment of five hundred dollars on your part, Mr. Hardy," continued Weston, in a grandiloquent tone; "as you must be aware, it is but a drop in the bucket, and we only wish it to induce your more hearty cooperation in pushing this enter- prise to a successful ending. If we make money, as we are sure to do, you will also share in it. It is need- less for me to tell you that this is the golden oppor- :y| ■n - it 24 BOCKUATEN •f 1 tunity of your life, and if you take hold with a will, and not only manage this quarry with good business discretion, but, what is of more importance, sell all the stock you can, you will reap a small fortune. This enterprise is sure to be a money-maker and we expect inside of a year to see Kockhaven go to ten, twenty, or possibly thirty dollars per share." And Winn Hardy, though sophisticated in a mi- nor degree, believed it, and true to his nature, leaped at once into the clouds, where sudden riches and all that follows seemed within his grasp. Not only did he easily persuade his excellent, though credulous, aunt, to lend him the money ho needed, but when he left for his new field of labor, he had so impressed her with his newly acquired delusion that she made haste to call upon Weston & Hill and invest a few thousand herself. How disastrous that venture proved and how much woe and sorrow followed need not be specified at present. True to her feminine nature, she told no one, not even Winn, of her investment ; and until the meteoric career of Rockhaven had become ancient history on the street, only the books of those shrewd schemers and her own safe deposit box knew her se- cret. CHAPTER IV WHEBE THE SEA-OtJLLS COME Like a pair of Titanic spectacles joined with a bridge of granite, the two halves of Rockhaven faced the Atlantic billows, as grim and defiant as when Leif Ericson's crew of fearless Norsemen sailed into its beautiful harbor. With a coast line of bold cliffs, indented by occasional fissures and crested with stunted spruce, the interior, sloping toward the cen- tre, hears only the whisper of the ocean winds. Rockliaven has a history, and it is one filled with the pathos of poverty, from that day, long ago, when Captain Carver first sailed into its land-locked harbor to split, salt, and dry his sloop load of cod on the sunny slope of a granite ledge, until now, when two straggling villages of tiny houses, interspersed with racks for drying cod, a few untidy fishing smacks tied up at its small wharves, and a little steamboat that daily journeys back and forth to the main land, thirty miles distant, entitles it to be called inhabited. In that history also is incorporated many 2fi 96 BOCKUATZN I) I ghastly tales of shipwreck on its forbidding and wave- beaten shores, of long winters when its ledges and ravines were buried beneath a pall of snow, its little fleet of fishermen storm-stayed in tlie harbor, and food and fuel scarce. It also has its romantic tales of love and waiting to end in despair, when some fisher boy sailed away and never came back; and one that had a tragic ending, when a fond and foolish maiden ended years of waiting by hanging herseM in the old tide mill. And, too, it has had its religious revival, when a wave of Bible reading and conversion swept over its poorly fed people, to be followed by a split in its one Baptist church on the merits and truths of close communion or its opposite, to end in the formation of another. It also had its moods, fair and charming when the warm south wind barely ripples the blue sea about, the wild roses smile between its granite ledges, and the sea-gulls sail leisurely over them; or else gloomy and solemn when it lies hid under a pall of fog while the ocean surges boom and beUow along its rock- ribbed shore. On the inner and right-hand shore of the secure harbor, a smaU fishing village fringes both sides of a long street, and at the head of the harbor, one mile WHIBB THK BEA-OULtS COME 27 aw»/ stands another hamlet. The first and larger villafte is called RocVhaven, the other Northaven. Each has its little church and schoolhouse, also used to- town meetings, its one or two general stores, and a post-office. Those in Rockhaven. where fishing is the sole industry, are permeated with that salty odor of cured fish, combined with tar, coflFee, and kerosene; and scattered over the interior are a score of modest farmhouses. At one end of the harbor, and where the village of Northaven stands, a natural gateway of rock almost cuts off a portion of the harbor, and here was an old tide mill, built of unhewn stone, but now unused, its roof fallen in, its gates rotted away, and the abut- ments that once held it in place now used to support a bridge. On one of the headlands just north of Rockhaven viUage, and known as Norse HiU, stands a peculiar structure, a circular stone tower open at the top and with an entrance on the inner or landward side. Tra- dition says this was built by the Norsemen as a place of worship. Beyond this hill, at the highest point of the island, is a deep fissure in the coast, ending in a small open cave above tidewater and facing the south. This is known as the Devil's Oven. On either side of this gorge, and extending back from it, is a thicket of m 98 BOCKIIAVBN i ! I I I Stunted spruce. The bottom and sides of this inlet, semicircular in flhajw, are coated tliick with rook- weed and bare at low tide. On the side of the harbor opposite Rockhaven, and facing it, is a small granite quarry owned and occasionally operated by one of the natives, a quaint old bachelor named Jesse Hut- ton. In summer, and until lato in the fall, each morning a small fleet of fishing craft spn^.d tlieir wings and sail away, to return each night. On the wharve? and between most of the small brown houses bac. of them, are fish racks of various sizes, inter- spersed with tiny sheds built beside rocks, old battered boats, piles of rotting nets, broken lobster pots, and a medley of wrack of p'l sorts and kinds, beaten and bleached by the sail/ ■ n. In summer, too, a white-winged yacht, trim and trig, with her brass rails, tiny cannon, and duck-clad crew, occasionally sails into the harbor and anchors, to send her complement of fashionable pleasure- seekers ashore. Here they ramble along the one main street, with its plank walk, peeping curiously into the open doors and windows of the shops, at the simply clad women and barefooted children who eye them with awe. Each are as wide apart from the other as the poles in their dress, manners, and ways of living, and each as much a curiosity to the other. WRXBX TH> 8KA-0ULL8 COlfX 30 Of tlie social life of tbo island there is little to be said, for it is as simple as the garb of its plain people, who never grow rich and are seldom very poor. Each of the two villages is blessed with a diminutive church, Baptist in denomination, the one at Rock- haven the oldest and known as Hard-Shell ; that at Northaven as Free-Will. Each calls together most of the womenkind and grown-up children, as well as a few of the men, every Sunday, while the rest of the men, if in summer, lounge around the wharves smok- ing and swapping yams. Thnre is no great interest in religion among either sex, and church attendance seems more a social pleasure than a duty. Occasionally a few of the young people will get together, as young folks always do, to play games; and though it is in the creed of both churches that dancing is to be abjured, nevertheless old Jess Hut- ton, whose iidH'" was his wife, child, and sole com- panion in hia si-.^iude, was occasionally induced to play and call off for the lads and lasses of the town, with a fringe of old folks around the walls as spec- tators. " I like to see 'em dance," he always said, " fer they look so happy when at it ; 'sides, when they get old they won't want to. Dancin's as nat'ral to young folks as grass growin' in spring." jl I J f so BooxuAvaif I J I Every unall viUagfo has iu oracle, who«e opinion on ail matters pasw-s current as law and Rospel, whose itories and jokes are repeated by ail, and who is by Ucit consent chosen moderator at town meetings, holds the office of selectman and chairman of the school committee for life, is accepted as referee in all disputes, and the friend, counsellor, and adviser of all. Such a man in Hockhaven was Jesse Ilutton. Though he argued wiUi the Rev. Jason Bush, who of- ficiated at Kockhaven on Sundays, about tlie unsocial nature of close communion, and occasionally met and had a tilt with the Northaven minister, he was a friend to both. " Goin' to church and belicvin' in a futur'," he would say, " is jest as necessary to livin' and happi- ness as sparkin' on the part of young folks is neces- sary to the makin' o' homes." For Jesse Hutton, or simply Jess, as old and young called him, was in his way a bit of a philoso- pher, and his philosophy may be summed up by say- ing that he had the happy faculty of looking upon tl ; dark side of life cheerfully. It also may be said that he looked upon the cheerful side of life tem- perately. And here it may be prudent to insert a little of Jess Button's history. He was the elder of two brothers, t !' WRni TM BKA-OCLU COMB 31 nchoolboyi on the island when ita population niim- I)ercl than of decimal fractions and the rule of three. And then the (Mvil War came on, and when its wave of patriotism reached far-off Kockhaven, Jess Ilutton, then a sturuy young man, enlisting in the navy under Farragut, served his country brnvoly and well. Then Joss came back, a limping hero, to find his brotl.er Jethro deeply in love with pretty Letty Carver, for whom Jess had cherished a boyish admiration, and in a fair way to secure a home, with her as a chief in- centive. Jess made no comment when he saw which way the wind blew in that quarter, but, philosopher that he was, run il.en, quietly but promptly turned his face emij horn the island and for a score of years Rockhaven know not of his wherealjouts. Gossips, recalling how he and Letty, as grown-up school chil- dren, had played together along the sandy beach of the little harbor or by the old tide mill, then grinding its grist, asserted that Jess had been driven away by 82 KOOKHAVEIT Iti disappointment; but beyond surmise they could not go, for to no one did he impart one word of his reasons for leaving the island and the scenes of his boyhood. Twenty years later, Letty Carver, who had become Mrs. Jethro Button, was left a widow with one child, a little girl named Mona, a small white cottage on Rock Lane, and, so far as any one knew, not much else. And then Jess Hutton returned. Once more the gossips became busy with what Jess would or should do, especially as he seemed to have brought back sufficient means to at once build a re- spectable dwelling place, the upper half fitted for a domicile and the lower for a store. But all surmise came to naught, together with all the well-meant and excellent domestic paths mapped out by the busybodies for Jess and the widow to fol- low, for when the combination house was done and the store stocked, Jess Hutton attended regularly to the latter and kept bachelor's hall in the former; and though he was an occasional caller at the cottage in Rock Lane and usually walked to church with the widow and little Mona on Sundays, the store and its customers by day or night were his chief care, and his solitary home merely a place to sleep in. And yet not; for beyond that, during his many years of wandering on the mainland, he had contracted the WRBBX THE BEA-GULI.S COME 33 habit of amusing himself with the violin when lone- some, and Jess, the eccentric old bachelor, as some termed him, and his fiddle became a curiosity among the odd and yet simple people of Rockhaven. Then, too, the little girl, Mona, his niece, liecame, as she grew up, his protegee and care, and he her one in- separable friend and adviser. =^! i"" CHAPTER V JESS HVTTOir II Like one of the spruces that towered high above others on Rockhaven, like one of the granite cliflFs bidding defiance to storm and wave, so did Jess Hut- ton tower above his fellow-men. Not from stature, though he stood full six feet, or that he was impres- sive in other ways — far from it. He was like a child among men in simplicity, in tenderness, in truth and kindly nature — a man among children in strict adherence to his conscience, to justice and right liv- ing. And all on Rockhaven knew it, and all had the same unvarying confidence in his good sense and jus- tice, his truth and honor, conscience and kindness. What he predicted nearly always came true; what he promised he always fulfilled, and no one ever asked his aid in vain. Others quarrelled, made mis- takes, repented of errors, lost time in fruitless ven- tures ; but Jess — never. He was like a great ship moving majestically among boats, a lighthouse point ing to safe harbor, a walking conscience like a com- JKSS HUTTOW 86 pasa, a giant among pigmies in scope of mind, keen- ness of insight, and accurate reading of others' moods and impulses. And so he towered above all on Rockhaven. Beyond that he was a philosopher who saw a silver lining behind all clouds, laughed at aU vanities, and made a jest of all follies. To him men were grown- up children who needed to be amused and directed; and women the custodians of life and morals, home, and happiness. They deserved the mantle of charity and patience, love, and tenderness. He was not religious. He had never felt a so-called change of heart, and yet he was a walking example of the best that religion encourages, for he governed himself, set the pace of right living, and illustrated the golden rule. He believed in that first and foremost, and in set- ting a good example as far as lay in his power, but not in any professions. "Ye mustn't feel I ain't on yer side," he said once to Parson Bush, who had urged him to join the church, " for I am, only it's agin my natur ter 'low I've had a special dispensation o' the Lord's grace in my behalf. I'm a weak vessel, like all on us, an' my impulses need caulkin'. I do the best I kin, 'cordin' to my light, 'n' that's all any man kin. The lord t ■I ii A M 36 BOCKHAVXir won't go back on ua fer not gittin' dipped, an' if there's a heaven beyond, our only chance o' a seat is by startin' an annex right here on airth. Sayin' you've joined the Lord's army's well enough, but doin' what ye feel the lord's tryin' to, is better. " Ez Sally Harper used ter say in meetin', ' We're all on us poor critters, an' if we jine, there's no tellin' when we'll backslide.' " It was perhaps the consciousness of inherent human weakness that kept Jess out of the fold. " A man may do right 'n' keep on doin' right 'most all his life long," he said, " an' some day up pops a temptati n-., when he's least prepared for't, and ovei he goes lil.e a sailboat 'thout ballast in a gale o' wind. An' then what becomes o' all yer 'lowin' the Lord's opened yer eyes 'n' gin ye extra grace ? Ye only get laughed at by the scoffers 'n' yer influence gone fer good. Human nature's brittle stuff, an' them as does right 'thout any change o' heart, come purty near bein' leaders in the percession toward the Throne." His philosophy, broad as infinite mercy and hum- ble as a child's happiness, permeated aU his thoughts and tinged all his speeches. " No Joy's quite so comfortin' as we cac'late," he would say, " an' no sorrer quite so worryin'. We go through life anticipatin' happy termorrers and JB88 IltJTTOIT 87 glorious next days, and when we git to 'em, somehow they've sorter faded away, and it's to be the next day and the next as is ter be the bright uns. Then, we are all on us like boys, chasing jack o' lanterns over a swamp medder, an' if we 'low they're clus to an' jest ready to grab, the next we know we've stumbled inter a ditch. "And then we borrer trouble, heaps on't, all through life. From the day we git scared at thought o' speakin' pieces at school, till the doctor shakes his head an' asks us if we've got our will made, we are dreadin' suthin'. If 'taint sickness or bein' robbed, it's worryin' 'bout our nabors bavin' more'n we do. The feller courtin' worries for fear the gal won't say ' yes,' an' when she does he is likely to see the time he wishes she hadn't, an' worries 'cause he's got her. We worry ourselves old 'n' wrinkled 'n' gray, an' then, more'n all this world, worry 'bout the next. An' thar's whar the parson 'n' I alius split tacks. He says the Lord made the brimstone lake fer sinners, 'n' I say the Lord made conscience as a means o' torture, an' here or hereafter it's hot 'nuil." And here it must be inserted that Jess was to a certain extent a thorn in the parson's side, from the fact that his influence and following were stronger than that worthy man's. It was what Jess believed it 88 BOOKHATMI and said that waa quoted rather than the paraon's asaertiona; and although Jeas seldom failed to be one of h>s HstenerB, and contributed more than any five or ten others toward his scant salary, there were times when he was made to feel that if Jess occupied the pulpit the church would be packed And so It would, humiliating as that fact was to And here also may be related an incident in Rook- haven history which illustrates how slim a hold the parson and his preaching had upon those islanders. As I happened that year, mackerel were late in reach- >ng the coast. The pHce was correspondingly high I fitrrV"' "' ^^''-Aer^'mate' the first haul. Most of them attended church, but now, while tie suspense was on, when Sunday came, two or three watchers were stationed on convenient diffs with orders to report to the church if a school was sighted. This was kept up for three weeks, and then, one Sunday, just as the first morning hymn in long metre had bee„ sung and the parson, with closed eyes, had got well started m his prayer, down through the vil- age sj^eet bounded one of those sentinels, yelling, Maek'rel, mack'rel, millions on 'eml » And in less than five minutes there wasn't a man JESS HUTTON 8» woman, or child left in the church except Jess Hut- ton and the parson. And when that good man had said "Amen," Jess arose and suggested tiiey too follow the crowd. " Ye might's well," said Jess, with a twinkle in his eye, " the model o' all Christianity sot the example, 'cordin' to Scriptur', an' ye might do good by fol- lerin' it." But the worthy leader of that flock who had thus deserted him failed to see the humor of the situation and sadly shook his head. He remained in the sanc- tuary and Jess joined the fishermen. It was such a peculiar, sympathetic, and broad un- derstanding of these fisher-folk's carnal as weU as spiritual needs that made Jess the oracle and leader of the island. " Thar wa'n't no need o' gettin' fussy over it," he said later to the good dominie, with a laugh, " reli- gion's good 'nuff when mack'rel's fetchin only a dol- lar a kit; but when three's offered 'n' scace at that, prayers hain't got their usual grip. And ye oughtn't ter 'spr '^ it, parson. The way to reach 'em's to be one with 'em and sorter feel thar needs, and make 'em feel they're yer own. If ye'd gone with 'em that day and helped 'em make a haul, an' then in- vited 'em to join ye in a prayer o' thankfulness, thar n 40 ■ooKHAvmr want one but 'ud a-kneeled down at yer bidding ud 8aid ' Amen.' " ./ "hs nuu And that wag Jess Button and partially the secret of his supremacy on Roekhaven. Another point — he had always believed and prac- tised the sterling rule of " paying scot and lot as you go. While Jess forgot injuries, he always remem- bered favors. If an un ashed, uncombed, and even unnamed child brought him but a sea-shell, Jess never failed to reward the act. And so on, upward, to each and all he returned aU favors, paid all debts, and rewarded all kindnesses. And how they trusted him ! A fisher lad, saving up for a new suit of clothes or a boat of his o^vn, would, before starting on a trip leave his money with Jess for safe keeping. The owner of a smack or schooner, ready for another cruise, would ask Jess to take charge of the quintals and kits of fish just landed, sell then, to best ad- vantage, and hold the proceeds till he returned or longer. Not only was Jess selling agent for most of them, but the safe in his store was a bank of de- posit for them also. What he did not keep to supply their needs, they told him to get without bargaining, sure it would be what they wanted, and at right, or lowest price. And this trust was mutual ■ f 11* JIBS HUTTON 41 "If I ain't here, help yourselves," while not a sign over his door, was understood by all to bo the rule; and every one in the island, from a child want- ing a stick of candy to the skipper needing a dozen suits of oilers, followed it Jess had habits, and one was to devote all the time his dearly loved niece, Mona Hutton, claimed to her amusement ; and when she asked that he accom- pany her flower or shell hunting of a summer after- noon, the store could run itself for all that he cared. It may be surmised that children exposed to the temp*°tion of candy, oranges, and nuts in his store, would pilfer, and some did ; but that did not annoy him. " Hookin' things alius carries its own whip," he would say, " an' if they wanter try it, let 'em. It's bound to be found out, one way or 'nother, and when I've shamed 'em once or twice, they'll lam it's cheaper to ask for 'em." Children were seldom refused in his store, for he was like a boy baiting squirrels with nuts in his de- sire to lure children there. They were his chief solace and companions by day, for he kept bachelor's hall over his store, and to have a crowd of them around was the company ho best enjoyed. r 'M ^, :U I m i I III ah •* 42 BOCKUA'iUr And what a godaend and wellgpring of delight Je« and hia atoro were to all Kockhaven'B progeny. In summer they came in barefooted bunches, even to the toddlers who could scarce ligp their own names They played hide - 1 seek behind his barrel, and beneath his counter ; they hid in empty boxes and under pjlea of old sails in his back room. They littered his piazza with crabs, starfish, long strips of kelpie and shells, they had gathered among the rocks and on the beach, and left the few poor toys and rag babies they possessed there. They ran riot over him and his store; and as a climax to the happy after-school hour, Jess would produce hii old fiddle, and if there is any music that wiU reach a child's heart, ij is that. And while Jess played they leaped, danced, crowed, and shouted as insanely happy children wilL To him it was also supreme delight To them he was a perpetual Santa Glaus, a wonder among men, a father bountiful, whose welcome never failed, whose smile was always cordial, and whose love seemed limitless. And they would obey a shake of his head even. And when the frolic had lasted long enough and he said, " Run home now," oflF they scampered. It is smaU wonder Jess Button was chief man of Rockhaven. But Jess had a vein of ? *ire as weU as philosophy. JIM tOITTOll 48 " It's human natur," be would mj, " for all on us to think our own children's brighter'n our neighbor's, an' our own joys and sorrers o' more account, and 'specially our aches and pains, 'n' them we never get tired o' tellin' 'bout. " There was the Widder Bunker, fer instance ; she had a heap o' trouble and the only comfort she got was tellin' on't. She had rumatiz 'n' biles 'n' janders 'n' uver complaint, ever since she was left a widder, an' all she could talk 'bout was what ailed her an' how long it had lasted an' what the symptoms were an' what she was doin' fer 'em. She'd run on fer hours 'bout all her ailin's till folks 'ud go off 'n' leave her. She got so daft on this subject, finally, every- body'd run fer safety and hide when they saw her comin'. She used ter talk in meetin' onct in a while, 'n' arter a spell her aches got sorter mixed up with her religion, an' as nobody else 'ud listen to her 'bout 'em, the first we knowed, she 'gan tellin' the Lord how her asmer bothered her and bow her rumatiz acted. She enjied it so much, an' the Lord seemed to listen so well, she kept at it over an hour, until the parson had to ask her to quit ' It was sorter rough on the widder, an' as I told the parson arterward, it really wa'n't any wuss fer the Lord to hev to listen to her bodily aches and pains 11 I) 44 BOCKIIAVCN tban the Bpiritiinl ones the rwit allot told him 'bout; 'sidcB it gin a spice o' variety tor Uie meetin'. " But ho said lier tellin' the Ix)rd liow gho'd hump herself to get breath, and how tlio rumatiz had started in her big too and skipped from one jint to 'tother, 'ud set tlie boys in the back seaU to titterin' 'n' break up the meetin', " I alius felt sorry for the Widder Bunker, fer she had considerable hair on her upper !,. an' a hair mole on her chin, 'aides iHiin' poorer'n a church mouse, an' sieh unfortunate critters hez to take back seats at the Lord's table." i 1 * ft CHAPTER VI THC BUD OF ▲ BOMANCB Thb little Bteanior Rockhaven was but a speck on the southern horizon, tlio fishermen that had earlier spread their wings were still in sight that Juno morning, and Jess Hutton, having swept his store, sat tilted back in an arm-chair on his piazza, smok- ing while ho watched the white sails to the eastward, when a tall, well-formed, and oity-garbcd young man approached. "My name's Hardy," he said, smiling as his brown eyes took in Jess and his surroundings at a glance, " and I represent Weston & Hill and have come to open and manage the quarry they own here. You are Mr. Hutton, I hcHevo ? " Jess rose and extended a brown and wrinkled hand. " That's my name," he said, " 'n' I'm glad ter see ye. But ter tell ye the truth, I never 'spected ter. It's been most a year now since yer boss landed here and bonght my ledge o' stun, and I've made up my mind he did it jist fer fun, 'n' havin' money ter throw M:l if- i 46 BOCKHAVBN Stepping in- Vay. Hev a cheer, won't ye ? " side he brought one out. Winn seated himself, and glancing down at the row of small, brown houses and sheds that fringed the harbor shore below them, and then across to where the ledge of granite faced them, replied, " Oh, Mr. Weston is not the man to throw away money, but it takes time to organize a company and get ready to operate a quarry; " and pausing to draw from an inside pocket a red pocketbook, and extracting a crisp bit of paper, he added, " the first duty, Mr. Button, is to pay the balance due you, and here is a check to cover it." ' Jes:: eyed it curiously. " It's good, I guess," he said as he looked it over, " but out here we don't use checks; it's money dowil or no trade." Then without more words he arose, and limping a little as he entered the store, handed Winn a long, yellow envelope. " Here's the deed ; an' the quarry's youm, an' ye kin begin blasting soon's ye like." " I cannot do anything for a few days," replied Winn, " for the tools and machinery have not yet arrived, and in the meantime I must look about and hire some men. In this matter I must aak you to THE BUD OF A BOUANOX 47 aid me, and in fact, I must ask your help in many ways." " I'll do what I kin," answered Jess, " an' it won't be hard ter git men. Most on 'em here ain't doin' more'n keepin' soul an' body together fishin' an'll jump at the chance o' aimin' fair wages quar^ ryin'. " Where did yer put up, if I may ask ? I heerd last night a stranger had fetched in on the steamer." " I found lodging with a Mrs. Moore," answered Winn ; " the boat's skipper showed me where dhe lived ; and now, if you will be good enough, I would like to have you show mc 'he quarry and then I will look around for men to work it" " Ye don't come here cac'latin' to waste much time," observed Jess, smiling, " but as fer hirin' men, ye best let me do it" " I should be grateful if you will," answered Winn, "I feel I must ask you to aid me in many ways. What we want," he continued, having in mind his instructions, " is to establish a permanent and pay- ing industry here, and enlist the interest of those; who have means to invest. We want to make it a sort of cooperative business, as it were." " I don't quite ketch yer drift," replied Jew. 't :M •i ! i 48 BOOERAVBN " I mean," responded Winn, "that we want to make this a home industry, and to get all those here who have means to take stock in it and share in the profits." Jess made no immediate answer, evidently think- ing. " Wal, we'll 836 'bout that bimeby," he said finally. " It's a matter as won't do ter hurry. Folks here are mighty keerful, 'n' none on 'em's likely ter do much bakin' till their oven's hot. 'Sides, there ain't many as own more'n the roof that shelters 'em, and not over well shingled, at that Money's skeercer'n hen's teeth here, Mr. Hardy." " I shall be guided by your opinion," answered Winn, realizing the truth of what Jess had said, " and we will let that matter rest for the present. Now if you will show me the quarry, I will look it over and let you see what can be done in the way of getting men to work it. Whatever you do for us we shall insist on paying you for." " Queer old fellow," mused Winn to himself two hours later, after he had parted from Jess, " but I doubt if he buys much of this quarry stock." It is likely that surmise would have been a positive cer- tainty if Jess Hutton, with horse sense as hard as this granite ledge and wits as keen as the briars that grew on top of it, had known that the quarry he had sold THE BUD OF A BOMAKCE 49 for two thousand dollars and consilered it well paid for, was the sole basis for a stock company capitalized at one million dollars. But he did not, and neither does many another blind fool who buys " gilt-edged " stock in gold mines, oil wells, and schemes of all sorts, know that his investment rests on as insecure and trifling a basis ; for the world is full of sharpers who continually set traps for the unwary and always catch them, and, although their name is legion, their dupes are :< i the sands of the sea. But of Winn Hardy, who had come to RockhaTen,as he honestly believed and felt, to carry out a legitimate business enterprise, it must not be thought that he for one moment understood the deep-laid schemes of J. Malcolm Weston, for he did not. Wliile the ratio of value between the capitalization of the Rockhaven Granite Company and the original cost of the quarry seemed absurd, it did not follow but that Weston & Hill might not intend actually to put capital into it sufficient to warrant such an issue of stock. All of which would go to show that Winn Hardy had not as yet entirely escaped the trammels of his inherited honesty and bringing up, which insensibly led him to judge others by himself. And that afternoon, having nothing to do, and curious to explore this rock-ribbed island that wan I til ; .»! i so BOCKHAVSN like to be his home for gome months, he started out on a tour of exploration. First he followed the sel- dom-used road that connects the two villages, up to Northaven, md looked that over. There was a little green in the centre where stood the small church, and grouped about, a dozen or two houses and two or three stores, while back of this, and below an arm of the harbor, it narrowed down to where the roadway crossed it. Beside this stood an old stone mill, or what was once the walls of one, for the roof was gone. He examined it carefully, peering into its ghostly interior and down to where the ebb tide had left its base walls barq. To this, and to the piles that had once held the tide gates, were clinging masses of black mussels, with here and there a pink starfish nestled among them. Then, following this arm of the sea until it ended, he crossed a half mile of bil- king ledges of rock between which were gras»-grown and bush-choked dingles, and came to the ocean. Then, following the coast line as well as possible, ow- ing t» the jutting cliffs, he reached a deep inlet with almost precipitous sides, and, turning inland, found its banks ended in a dense thicket of spruce. Through this wound a well-defined path, shadowy beneath the canopy of evergreen boughs, and velvety with fallen needles. Following this a little way, he 1 THE BUD OB A BOUANCE 61 came to an opening view of the ocean once more. The day was wondrously fair, the blue water all about barely rippled by a gentle breeze, while here and there and far to seaward gleamed the white sails of coasters. Below him, where the rock-walled gorge broadened to meet the ocean, the undulating ground swells leisurely tossed the rockweed and brow-n kelpie upward, as they swept over the sloping rocks. For a few moments ho stood spellbound by the silent and solemn grandeur of the limitless ocean view and the colossal pathway to the water's edge below him, and then suddenly there came to his ears the faint sound of a violin. Now low and soft, hardly above the rhythmic pulse of the sea, and again clear and dis- tinct, it seemed to come up out of the rocks ahead, a strange, weird, ghostly harmony that, mingling with the whisper of the distant wave-wash, sounded ex- quisitely sweet. Breathless with astonishment now, he crept for- ward slowly, step by step, until at the head of this deep chasm, and down beneath him, he heard the well-recognized strains of "Annie Laurie" played by invisible hands. The sun was low in the west, the sea an unruffled mirror, the coast line a fretwork of foam fringe where the ground swells met it, and above its mur- (^ I Ill V 52 BOCKHAVEN mup, trilling and quivering in the still air, came that old, old strain : — " And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay rae doon and dee," repeated again and again, until Winn, enraptured, spellbound, moving not a finger but listening ever, heard it no more. Then presently, aa watching and wondering still whence and from whose hand had come this almost uncanny music, he saw, deep down amid the tangle of rocks below him, a slight, girlish figure emerge, with a dark green bag clasped tenderly under one arm, and slowly pick her way up the sides of the defile and disappear toward the village. I ' CHAPTER VII !• SUNDAT ON BOCKHAVEN Fob a few days Winn Hardy was so occupied with the cares of his new fiosition that he thought of little else. It was a pleasing freedom, for never before had he known what it was to be his own master ; but now the hiring of men and directing operations gave him a sense of power and responsibility that was exhila- rating. Jess Ilutton aided him in many ways and, in fact, seemed anxious to assist in this new enterprise that was likely to be of material benefit to Rockhaven. Winn wisely let the stock matter rest, feeling that a I^ractical demonstration of the Rockhaven Granite Company's enterprise and intentions would in due time establish confidence. He wondered many times who the girl was that had hid herself in that weird cluster of rocks to play the violin, and marvelled that any maid, bom and reared amid the half -starved residents of Rockhaven, should even have that laudable ambition; but he S3 'I I I (i (;5 .s 54 KOCKUAVBN asked no questions. In a way, the romance of it also kept him from inquiries. " I will bide my time," he thought, " and some day I will go over and surprise this maid of the gorge." He had noticed a rather immaturely formed girl with dark, lustrous eyes once or twice in the dooryard of a little white house in the same lane where he had found lodgment, and had met her once on the village street and half surmised she might be this mysterious violinist. He gave little thoiight to it, however, for his new position and the open path to success and pos- sible riches that seemed before him was enough to put cave-seeking maids, however charming, out of his mind. Then, too, he had not quite recovered from Ethel Sherman. When Sunday came, a new, and in a way pleasur- able, experience came with it. His landlady, Mrs. Moore, a widow whose two sons were away on a long fishing voyage, and who seemed so afraid of her soli- tary boarder as to no more than ask if he wanted this or that during his lonely meals, now appeared to gain courage with the advent of the Lord's day. "I'd be pleased, sir," she said humbly, " ." ye'd attend smvice with me at the meetin'-house this morning." And though Winn had planned to turn his back on SUNDAY ON BOCKIIAVEN 66 the coop-like houses that composed the town, and Uke a long stroll over the island, there was such an ap- pealing hope in this good woman's invitation that he could not resist it, and at once consented to attend " sarvice " with her. And he was not sorry he did, for when the little bell began calling the piously inclined together, and he issued forth with Mrs. Moore, who was dressed in a shiny black silk and a " bunnit " the like of which his grandmother used to wear, and looking both proud and pleased, he felt it a pleasant duty. On the way to the small brown church which st»od just beyond the steamer landing and at the foot of a sloping hill dotted thick with tombstones, he felt that he was the observed of all observers, and when seated in Mrs. Moore's pew, cushioned with faded green rep, whichever way he looked some one was peeping curiously at him. In a way it made him feel unpleasant, and he wondered if his necktie was awry; then as he looked around at the worn and out-of-date garb of the few men and almost grotesque raiment of the women and girls, what Jess had said of the people recurred to him in a forcible way. The usual service that followed, similar in kind to any country <>hurch, was interesting to Winn mainly because it recalled his boyhood days. When the ministsr, a thin, gray-haiwd m«a, began ■ i I! !| ■ji I 86 III m : * i'/ BOCXRAVEir his sermon, Winn grew curious. He wm aooustomed to pulpit oratory of a high clase, ahd wondered now what manner of discounie was like to emanate from this hunibie desk. The text was the old and time- worn " The Lord will provide," that has instilled courage and hope into millions of despondent hearts, and now used once more to encourage this little band of simple worshippers. The preacher made no new deductions, in fact, seemed to, as usual, lay stress upon the need of faith that the Lord would provide, come what might. To this end he quoted freely from Scripture, and Winn wfis beginning to lose interest and look around the bare and smoky walls and out of one window that commanded a view of the rippled harbor, when suddenly his attention was arrested by a direct reference to himself, or rather, his errand to Rockhaven. " We have," asserted the minister, in slow and solemn voice, "a certain and sure proof that the Lord watches over and cares for us, and that we on this lonely island, striving to live righteously, are not forgotten by Him. Our acres fit to till are few and lack fertility; our winters dreary and full of the menace of storm and shipwreck to those who must pursue their calling abroad ; and yet it seems that He who holds the waters in the hollow of His hand, real- izing our needs, has turned the minds of moneyed men SUHDAT ON BOC'KIIAVIN 67 toward our barren homo, and through them blessed us with a now source of livelihood. Through them heretofore worthless ledges of granite are to be reared into dwi-Uings, or perhaps churches in the great city. It is to nio a certain and signal proof that the good Lord watches over us here, as well as over others who dwell in more favored spots, and that we have a new and greater cause for thankfulness. Many times wo have repined at our hard lot, at our scanty stores of sustenance and the bitterness of jwverty ; many times, too, some of us have felt the burden of our lives hard to bear, and almost doubted the good Lord's watchfulness and care over all who believe in His word. It is this lack of faith, and this lesson of His goodness, even unto us, that I wish to impress upon your minds to-day, for, although we are but poor and humble, illy fed and thinly clad, yet we are not for- gotten by Him, the Great Tlulei- of the Universe." This peculiar and unusual reference to a mere matter of business and Winn's mission to Rookhaven did not end his discourse, hut it kept that young man's attention away from all else until the minister closed and bowed his head in prayer, and, when the inevi- table and long-handled collection box was passed, Winn felt he must, perforce, contribute liberally, which he did. 1 ' m 68 looxuAvsir i ^1 li: When the congregation waa dismiaaed and he and Mra. Moore reached the porch, there waa Jeaa with two ladiea, one elderly, and the girl Winn had noticed in Rock Lane, aeemingly awaiting him. An introduc- tion to Mrs. and MisR Hutton followed, and then all five walked homeward together. It is said that trifles determine our course in life, that, like chips floating down the stream, we are moved hither and yon by imperceptible forces. If it is 80 with one, it is with all, and was so with the people of Rockhaven, and their estimate and subsequent opinion of Winn Hardy. He attended that poor little church that day out of kfndly regard for Mrs. Moore's wishes, he listened patiently to services and the ser- mon, only a few sentences of which interested him, and, of course, conducted himself as any well-behaved and well-bred young man would. And yet that trivial act was the starting-point in the good will and confidence of those people, the worth of which he realized not at all then and never fully until long afterward. Neither was he entitled to special credit for his self-sacrifice, except it be that his desire to please that worthy matron, Mrs. Moore, overcame his selfishness. But whether or not, it led to immediate, though minor reward, for late that afternoon, and upon his return BDMDAT OM BiiOKllAVJCN 60 ■f. from ■ (hort stroll over Norso Hill, he found her on tho porch of the white cottage next to her homo, chat- ting wiih the two ladies be met at church, and be was invited to join them. How cordially the two elderh ladies endeavored tn interest him and what a soti witchery the dark eyes of the younger one held for him need not be enlarged ui)on. It mati> rcii not thai Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Ilutton were ueither cul- tured nor fashionable; they were at least tiucore in their enjoyment of his society and nir"iit what they uttered, whicli is more than can be said of many women of [msition. lie learned that the girl , ni.iiio was Mona, that she had never been awav rVim thr island, and, as might be expected, was somcv. Iiui biinb f\il and a little afraid of liiiii. lie bad a mind to ask her if she played the violin, but a romantic desini to surprise her, or whoever the mysterious violinist was, restrained him. The stars were out, a perfect quietude had falleu upon tho little village, and only the ceaseless murmur of the near-by ocean whispered in the still air, when Mrs. Moore arose to go, and, much against his will, Winn felt compelled to follow. In his room he smoked for an hour in solitude, buoyant with hope for his own future, amply satisfied with the business and social progress he had so far I i 60 BOCKHAVKN made, and mentally contra8tinjf the life he had left behind him with the new one he had entered upon; and into these meditations, it must be stated, came the faces of Ethel Sherman and Mona Hutton. And 80 ended Winn's first Sunday on Rockhavcn. CHAPTER VIII THE UAND OF FATB Fob a few days Winn Hardy was the busiest man on Rockhaven. What with setting up the steam drill that had been sent him, finding a man to work it, ad- justing the derricks, and laying out work for the dozen men Jess had secured, he had no more time than oc- casionally to think of who the mysterious violin- playing maid might bo. He arose early, worked late, and evenings wrote his firm a detailed statement of his progress, or discussed matters with Jess at the store. By tacit consent that had become a sort of ofiice for the Rockhaven Granite Company, and even- ing loimging place for not only the men who were at work for Winn, but others interested in the new enter- prise, and, in fact, all who were not away on fishing trips. Here, also, Winn met the Rev. Jason Bush, a worthy, if attenuated, parson and pedagogue, who had so astonished Winn that first Sunday and who seemed more interested than any one else in the quarry. It 81 f-i: m 4 f 63 BOCKHATEir was all the more pleasant, experience to Winn, thus to feel that he was bringing a business blessing to these hard-working and needy people, and the barometer of his hopes and spirits was at top notch when Friday came and with it funds from the firm to pay the men. He felt, indeed, that his mission was bearing excel- lent fruit. Then, too, he received a letter of praise from his employers, congratulating him on the progress he was making, and reminding him that, as soon as advisable, he should endeavor to interest those who had means and induce them to invest in IJockhaven stock. It was all right, of course, and a part of his mission there ; and Winn, guileless of the cloven hoof hidden beneath it, assured himself that be iiiust carry out their wishes as soon as possible. It was while speculating on this part of his duty the next afternoon, and wondering who except Jess was likely to have money to invest in this stock, that he felt an unaccountable impulse to visit the gorge again and at once. It was as if some invisible voice was calling him and must be answered, and yet he could not explain what it was and how his thought, at that particular moment, had turned to this spot. He was not a believer in fate ; he was just an ambitious and practical young man, with good common sense THE HAND OF FATK and wholesome ideas, and though a little embittered by the treatment he had received at the hands of Ethel Sherman and not likely to fall in love eusily with another girl yet he was the last person who would admit that fate was playing, or would play, any part in his movements, as it did; and more than that, it led him that balmy June afternoon, when the sea and sky were in perfect accord, to the gorge and to the very spot where, ten days before, he had been mystified. And now he was more sfi, for not only did he hear the same low, sweet strains mingling with the ocean's murmur, but he began to realize that some invisible influence, quite beyond his understanding, had brought him hither. What it was he could not tell, or where, or from whence it came, only that he felt it and obeyed. And so forcibly did this uncanny sense of help- lessness oppress him, that the weird strains of music, issuing from the rocks below, seemed ten times more so. For one instant be could not help feeling almost scared, and thought it well to pinch himself to see if he were awake, and the music and his presence there not a dream. Then he sat down. Surely, if it were a dream, it was a most exquisite one, for away to the eastward and all around, a half-circle, the boundless ocean, with here and there a white-winged vessel, and BOCKHATin white-crested waves flashing in the sunlight, lay be- fore; -while beneath him ami sloping V-sliaped a hundred feet below, ami to where the billows leajwd over the weed-clad rwks, lay this chasm. Back of him, and casting their conical shadows over the chaos of boulders in the gorge, was a thicket of spmee, ane rude. The next thotight, and the one he acted upon, was to go back a little of the way he came, hide himself, and, when she appeared, advance to meet her. The way to the village was over a rounded hill a full mile in length, witli scattered clusters of bayberry bushes between. Back over this a hundred THE RAND OF FATE 66 rods Winn retreated, and not thinking how his pres- ence there would aiTect this unknown girl, hid him- self hehinii a rock. lie had not long to wait, and soon saw the same lithe figure, and under her ami the same bundle, emerge from the gorge, and, as she advanced rapidly, saw that it was Mona. Still un- thinking, he stepped out into view and forward to meet her. In one instant he saw her halt turn back -^ step, then around, facing him, and stand still ; and as he neared her and she saw who it was, she sank to the earth. Then, as he reached her side and saw her, half reclining against a small ledge, and looking up at him, her face and lips ashen white, he realized for the first time what a foolish thing he had done. " I beg your pardon. Miss Hutton," he said ear- nestly, and removing his hat on the instant, " I see that I have scared you half to death and I am sorry ; I didn't mean to." And as she sat up, still looking at him with pitiful eyes, a realizing sense of his own idiotic acfioa came to him, and he told her, a little incoherently, per- haps, but truthfully how he had come there both days, and for what reason. Frankness ia said to he n virtue, and in this case it was more, for it saved the reputation of Winn Hardy ^ 66 BOCKKAVXK as a man of honor and a gentleman, in the eyes of Mona Hutton. " Yes, I was frightened," she said at laat, in re- sponse to his repeated plea for forgiveness, after he had told her his story, " and I almost fainted. It is foolish of me to go there, I know, for mother has told me it is not safe." Then as she picked up the green bag that had fallen at her feet and started to rise once more, Winn's wiu came to his rescue, and in an instant he grasped her hand and arm and almost lifted her to her feet. " I shall never forgive myself for this day's stu- pidity," he said, " but I have wondered a hundred times since that day who on earth it could be that hid herself in that forbidding spot. I heard you play only one air then, and that the sweetest ever composed by mortal man. I have heard it many, many times, but never once when it reached my heart as it did that day. \Vliat blind intuition brought me here I cannot say; but some impulse did, and if you will believe what I say and that your playing has wrought a spell over lup, I shall be grateful." To simple and utterly unsophisticated Mona Hut- ton words like these wore as new as life to a babe, and while she could not and did not beheve he meant them all, as uttered, nevertheless they were sweet to THE RAND OK KATE 67 her. It is likely, also, they were colored by the plight Winn found himself in and his desire to set himself right in the eyes of Mona. " I do not know why it is," she responded, " but when 1 go there 1 seem to enjoy my jiractice better, and then I feel that no one can hear inc. Mother •ays that no one will ever want to," she added naively. Winn smiled. " But I want to," he said, " I want to go there with you some day and bear you play ' Annie Laurie ' again ; will you let me ? " " I won't promise." she replied, and perhaps mind- ful of her mother's opinion added : " Mother doesn't approve of my playing a fiddle. She says it's not graceful." This time Wmn lauj^ed. " I don't believe you could do anything and not be graceful," he said. " As for that, I have seen Camilla Urso playing one before an audience of thonsands, and no one thought her ungraceful." " Who is Camilla Frso ? " asked Mona. " She was a wonderful violinist," answered Winn, " and charmed the whole world, years ago. If vou will let iiK- poiiic to this sjiot with you, I will tell you all about her." i.l' i. i •• BOCKKAVSlr Mong turned her face away. " I don't go there very often," iIm relied eva- aively ; " and if you have heard such woa.. „ , ^.nt of dispute between tlieni. But Uncle Jess sided with Mona, ond the mother gave in, for with her, for nia-v potent reasons, tl.e ^ ill 'and wishes of Uncle Jos., must not Ihj thwarted, even if wrong. However, the dispute drove Mona and the fiddle out of the house, and when she had finally mas- tered it (at least in a measure), it stayed out. In this connection, it may ho sai.i, there was also a difference in opinion between Airs. Ilutton and Joes regarding the future of Mona, an.l though never dis- cussed before her, for obvious reasons, it existed With Mrs. Ilutton the m.-asu-o of her own life or what it had been, as well as that of her neigi.bijrs was broad enough for Mona. ' " It's going to spoil her," she asserted on one of these occasions, « this getting the idea int« her head that thoso she has been brought up with are not "ood enough f o. ,.er. They may not be, but we are here and likely to stay here, and once a girl gets her head full o' high notions and that sheV better than the rest, it's all day with her." ^^ "Thar ain't no use interferin'," Jess responded, whatever notions Mona's got, she's got, an' ye can't change 'em. If she likes the smell o' wiW roses bet- ter'n flshin' togs, she does; and if she tu. .s up her nose at them as don't think 'nough o' pleasin' her ter •I 80 BOCKHAVEI* p}mnj?e togs when th«>y come round, I 'gree with her. VVi My, ' notional, nn' thoiigh most on 'cm 'round licro iiait ter work purty hard, it ain't no »ij?n their notions sliouldn't b« considorod. I'vo stayed in houses wl-.ar wiinniia wa'u't 'lowed to lift a finger an' had sarvants ter fan 'em when 'twas hot, nn' though that ain't no sign Mona'U git it done for her, I hope I'll never live ter sc her drudgin' like some on 'em here." " If you'd had the bringing o' Mona up," Mrs. Ilutton had responded rather sharply, "you would a-niade a doll baby out o' her, an' only fit to have servants to fan her." At which parting shot, Jess had usually taken to his heels, muttering, " It's a waste o' time argufyin' with a woman." But Mrs. Hutton was far from being as " sot " in her way as might be inferred, as she always had, and still desired, to rear her only child in the way she considered best, and in accordance with her surround- ings. To he a fine lady on Tlockhaven, as Mrs. Hut- ton would put it, was impossible; and unless Mona was likely to be transplanted to another world, as it were, it seemed wisest to keep her from exalted ideas and high-bred tastes. But back of that, and deep in the mother's love, lay the hope of better things for her child than ahe had known, though how they were to come, and in what way, she could not see. UONA HUTTOW 81 Mere pebbles of chance shape our d( Mny, and so it was in the life of Winn Harily, an.l the iriflc, light as air, tlint tiimod liis ft«i<.|M, was the souml of churcli bolls that Sunday morning in Hock- haven. Had they not recalled his l)oyluK.d, lie would have spent the day in roaming over the island as he had planned, instead of accepting Airs. Aloore's invitation to accompany her to church, with tlio se- ■ c-nce of events that followed. And the one most pou-nt was the accent of cordiality in Mrs. Hutton's neighborly invitation to call. It may be supposed, and naturally, that tho expressive eyes of her daughter were the real magnets ; but in this case tliey were not. In- stead it was the mother with whom he desired to visit, and when he called that first evening it was with her he held most converse. Out of the medley of sub- jects they chatted about, and what was said by either, so little is pertinent to this narrative, it need not be quoted. Winn gave a brief account of his early life and more of the latter part, since he had been a resi- dent of the city, togetlior with a full explanation of how the Rockhaven Granite Company was likely to affect the island, and his mission tliere. This latter recital, he felt, would be a wise stroke of policy, as apt to be repeated by Mrs. i^utton, as in truth it was, if' 82 SOCKHATEir later on. While she was not inquisitive, he found she was keenly interested in the new industry he had established there, and discerning enough to see that, if successful, ii would be a great benefit to the island. Winn discovered also that in addition to being a most excellent and devoted mother, she was fairly well posted in current events, had visited relatives on the mainland many times, and in the city once, and was far from being narrow-minded. With Mona, who sat a quiet listener, he exchanged but a few words, and those in connection with the church and social life of the village. In juth, he found her disinclined to say much and apparently afraid of him. His call was brief and not particularly interesting, except that it made him feel a little more at home on the island, and when he rose to go, he received the expected invi- tation to call again; and when he had reached his room, the only features of the call that remained in his mind were that Mrs. Hutton seemed interested in his mission there, and her daughter had eyes that haunted him. CHAPTEE XI THE devil's OVEW The time-worn saw that two is company and three a crowd never struck Winn so forcibly as that even- ing when he called again on Mrs. Hutton. On the first occasion he had only felt interested to make the acquaintiiiice of that excellent lady, who, in many ways, reminded him of his own departed mother ; but now it was the daughter. But Mona was shy as be- fore, perhaps more so, and hardly ventured a re- mark, while the mother was as cordial and chatty as ever. Once Winn came near speaking of the little episode that had occurred the day before, but some quick intuition prevented, and after an hour's visit he bade the two good night and left them. It was evident Mona had not confided the inci- dent to her mother, and until she had Winn thought it his place to keep silent. He did not know that the girl's secrecy was solely due to fear of a scolding, and that between her mother and herself existed that m iii . 17' i*'^ I.' , 1 ^r 84 EOCKHAVEN foolish, but often dangerous barrier. It was several days after before Winn obtained a suitable chance to speak with Mona alone, and then be met her just coming from the store of Jess Button. " When am I to hear you play again i " he asked pleasantly, " I wanted to ask you the evening I called, but in view of what you said about your mother's dis- like of it, decided not to." " I am glad you did," she replied, coloring a little. " I am going over to that gorge this afternoon," continued Winn boldly, " and I want you to promise to come and bring your violin. Will you ? " " I won't promise," she replied timidly, and all unconscious that his proposal was not in strict pro- priety, " I may come, but if I do I shall not dare play before you." " Oh, I am harmless," he replied lightly, " and if you knew how anxious I am to hear you, you would favor me, I am sure." And that afternoon Winn betook himself once more to what was now likely to be a trysting place, only instead of going directly, the way Mona would naturally, over Norse Hill, he walked a mile extra around through Northaven. And this to protect the good name of a girl with a face like a marguerite and eyes like deep waters. THE DEVIL S OVEN 85 She was not there when he arrived, and in truth Mona was having a hard struggle to decide whether to go or not, for this man, with earnest brown eyes, blond mustache, stylish garb, ways and manners so utterly unlike any that had come under her ken, was one to awe her. Then, would it be right, and what would her mother and Uncle Jess, and all the good people of Eockhaven, say if it were known she met him thus ? For Mona, wise as only Kockhaven was, and pure as the flowers her face resembled, was yet conscious what evil tongues might say, and dreaded lest they be set wagging. But a lurking impulse, first implanted in Mother Eve's heart, and budding in Mona's since the hour she saw Winn's kindly eyes looking down into her own, won the day, and taking her dearly-loved, old, brown fiddle and bow safe in their green bag, she walked rapidly to the edge of the gorge, with throb- bing heart and fiushed face. Winn was there waiting, as full well she knew he would be, lazily puffing a cigar while he leaned against a sloping bank and watched the ocean below. When he saw Mona he threw the weed away and sprung to his feet. " I'm very glad you came, Miss Hutton," he said. m ¥ Hh 86 BOOKUATEN '4 raising his hat, " yet I did not dare hope you would," and then extending one hand to take the bag and the other to assist her, he added, " It's a risky place to come down into, and you had best let me assist you." " I'll go first," she replied quickly, " for I know the way and can go alone, and you can follow me." And follow her he had to, but not easily, for with steps as fearless and leaps as graceful as an antelope, she led the way down into the chaos of boulders and then up through them, until she paused in a shelter- ing embrasure. When Winn reached her, side he was out of breath, and as he handed her the bag and looked about, he w.-s almost speechless at the wild, rooky grandeur of the spot. And well he might be, for seldom had he seen one like it. He had looked down into the gorge from above, but now he was in a half-circular, wide- open cave the size of a small room, far below where he had stood, and looking out upon cliff-like walls down to where the ocean waves were beating. " And so this is the Devil's Oven," he said when he had looked all about, and finally at Mona seated upoi. a jutting ledge and watching him. " I think it a shame to have given such a hideous name to a place so grand and picturesque. Rather should it have been called the Mermaid's Grotto. I dislike TH« DXTIl's over 87 thi8 idea of naming aU the beautiful bits of natural scenery after his satanship. It's not fair." Then seating himself as far away from Mona as possible he added gently, " Now, Miss Button, I am ready for my treat Please don't think or feel that I am here, br.t play to yourself and for yourself, just as you did the day I first heard you." And Mona, charmed a little by his gentle, courteous ways and speech, and her sense of fear lulled by his entirely respectful manner, drew her violin from its casa It may have been the spot that inspired her, or the tender admiration she saw in his eyes, or a little of both, but from the first moment she drew the bow across the strings of her violin, a wondrous sweetness and feeling graced her playing, and strange to say, all the melodies she rendered bore the Scotch fiavor. Most of them had been heard by Winn at one time or another, but never played upon an instrument that seemed so sweet or with such an exquisite touch as now. When « Bonnie Dundee " came, he could al- most soe that gallant chieftain with waving plume and Tartan plaid, and hear him say: — « Come fill up my cup, Come fill up my can ; Come saddle my horses And call up my men." .'■'! -\<\ ,, ,i ■\,% InV' 1 ^ ;- If \ ji fii I'i 88 BOOKHAVEN And when "The Campbells are Coming" echoed out of that rock-walled cave, Winn could hear the bagpipes in the disthnee and see the dauntless hosts of fair Scotland marching to battle. When after an hour, during which Mona sat with lithe body swaying to the measure of her music, rounded cheek pressed tenderly to her instrument, and her eyes closed, as if lost to the world, she came to that old utterance of love, sweet " Annie Laurie," Winn was enthralled as never in his life before. And when the last exquisite note had floated out of the cave and into the spd monotone of the ocean, and Mona paused, his eyes were dimmed with tears. " Miss Hutton," he said earaestly, brushing them away, " no words of mine can tell you how much I have enjoyed this treat or with what rare feeling you have played. If you could play as you have here before an audience they would bury you under fluwers and lavish wealth upon you." These were warm words, and without doubt at the moment Winn felt all they mean., ! ut he little realized what an influence they would instil into the heart of Mona Hutton or what fruit they were des- tined to bear. "Who was that wonderful woman you told me THE devil's oven gg about the other day?" asked Mona, making no re- sponse to his flattering words. "I did not know women ever played in public." "Oh, yes, they do," answered Winn, "and there are many like her who have gained fame and riches. You could if yc. would set about it and had the cour- age to do it. You would have to study, of course, under a teacher and learn to play classical music." ^^ And what is classical music ? " asked Mona. "It is what no one understands, though many claim to; or perhaps hotter described as soulless sound," answered Winn. "I do not care for it There is no feeling, no pulse, no heart in it." " Then why is the wor'd willing to ^ay for it? " she asked. . . "J;!"^ '^°''''* " '^'"^^ t" buy anything that comes high, he answered, " and the more in proportion to Its value that is asked, the quicker they will buy it. But do not ask about the world, Miss Hutton. It is not in harmony with this spot. We are out of it here." Mona looked at him curiously. " You are a queer man," she said suddenly, "and at first I was very much afraid of you." ^ Winn laughed. " You need not be," he replied, •' I never harmed man, woman, or child." Then as "■!^ im iil' 90 BOOXKATKN ■ sudden thought came to him he added, " Did you tell your mothei you met me here the other day J " " No," she replied, looking confused and coloring. It was on hor lips to say that she dreaded a scolding if she did, but she restrained herself. " It 18 time you were starting home," he said sud- denly, looking at his watch, " and I am so sorry," and rising he added, " you must pardon me for saying so, but I think you had best mention to your mother you met me here, by accident of course. If you do not, and if she hears of it^ aho will think it strange." When he had assisted her down the rocky pathway and up the steep sides, the while carrying her precious violin, and they reached the brink of the chasm, he paused. The gorge was all in shadow, the wind fallen away, and only the long sweeping ground swells caught and mirrored the red glow of the sun now almost at the horizon line. For a moment Winn looked out over the broad ocean and then turned to the girl beside him. " Little one," he said gently, " I thank you for the confidence you have placed in me by coming here and for the pleasure you have given me. I shall never forget it. There are two favors I want you to grant me, the first to let me call you Mona, the next to TH« devil's OVJtW 91 ^-^me here BO«e day again and play for „,, Will .imply.'"" ""'"" "°*^*' ^''^'^'" '•'« "'"'wered And then as they turned toward the vUlage, he carrying the green bag and still retaining the Z'i he clasped to assist her out of the chasmfand guidin. W f^tsteps along the way, a new and exalte^L^ of happ.neM came to her. But litUe was said by star ::' "'^ " *"™'' ''••"•^ -''«1 f- ^irnZ speak, and he was so hushed by the mood of the after- noon m the gorge, and the blessed unity of sea and sky and sunset here, he enjoyed silence best her hand and when her home was reached handed her the bag, ,nd with a whispered "good night, Mona," passed on. ^^ u- CHAPTER XII TH» FABTIira OP TH« WATB When Winn passed out of Rockhaven the next morning, Mona was in her dooryard kneeling be- side a bed of flowers, her face shaded by a checked calico sunbonnet. At the gate he paused. "Good morning, little girl," he said pleasantly, " do I get a flower for my good looks this morning ? " Had Mona been a cultured society girl bhe would have replied in the same coin, instead she merely answered his greeting and plucking one each of a half dozen kinds, still moist with the dew, handed them to him. And he looked into the wondrous eyes raised to his, saw a new light lingering in them, and smiling softly as he took the flowers he thanked her and went his way. And strange to say, when he reached the quarry, he hid that little nosegay in a shaded nook beside the ledge where a tiny spring dripped out, and when he returned that noon, carried them wrapped in a wet III! THB PABTnro OF TMD WATB 08 handkerchief to hia room and left them in a glau of water. And that night when the vexation and oarea of the day had pawed, he, a little homeaick and with the charm of Mona'g playing still lingering hig mind, held communion with himself. And the cause was the foUowing missive which had reached him: — "Dbab Mr-,. Hahdt: " I was surprised a few days ago when your aunt told me you had left the city to be manager of the Rockhaven Grnnite Co., and had gone away to some unheard of island. I had missed seeing you for 8 week, and when you were not at church wi* your aunt, asked Ler what had become of you. When f-he told me where you were it seemed likely you would be glad to hear from home, and as I am aware your worthy aunt hates letter writing, I thought I would be good t» you. There isn't a bit of news to write, and the city is getting positively unbearable. " Mother and I are getting ready to go to the moun- tains; we shall start early in July and your aunt goes with us. I presume from what she said you will remain where you are this summer. I almost envy you, for it certainly must be cool there, and no doubt you have or will find some sweet fishermaid to flirt i)' ii^uj »4 ■ooznAvnr with. Grace ii not going with ua for she layt a babj ia a nuiaanoe at a hotel and then ' hubby ' can't afford it I saw Jack (your chum) the other evening at the Bijou with a girl who waa stunning, alao Mabel Weston and her mother. " I do not know of anything ehte that will interest you oxcept my addregi> for the sumnior, which J en- close, and the hopi that you won't forget us all be- fore your return. " You s sincerely, " Ethel Sheeman." And this from the girl who two short years before had laughed his marriage proposal to scorn. And he was like to find some simple fishermaid ti flirt with, was he? And the cool indifference to that fact ; and the oov< rt, yet openly expressed in- vitation for him to write to her. Now Winn Hardy was not blind, and in spite of the two years, during which he bad never met or thought of Ethel Sherman without a pin-prick in his heart, clear and distinct in his mird was the alluring glance of her blue eyes that had led him to make a fool of himseb', and the red ripe temptation of her lips he had once stolen kisses from. And now she was inviting him to write to her. And not two rods away was a girl as simple and sweet as the daisies TH« PABTIirO OV TH« WAT« 05 th«t bloomed in • meadow, as utterly unaophi.ticated a. though reared within convent wall., with eye. like deep water., and a «,ul trembling with pa«ionato muBio I For one hour Winn communed with himwlf, glanc- ing attentivoly at the little knot of flower, on a .mall table near him, and the letter beside them, and then aroee and putting on hi. hat, loft the houw. It wa. a .till .umnicr evening with the crewont of a new moon glintiiig in the water, of Rockhaven harbor and outlining the .pectral .hape of the tower on Nor^ 11.11. To tl.i. Winn turned hi. .tep., and wat- ing h.m«,lf wb- 3 he could look over the undulating ocean, continued his meditation. All b-- '■ -e, .ince the day he first entered the office ofW«,i iHiU.cametohim. All the many .nub. he had re ived, all the di.appointment. he had met, aL the week., months, and year, of monotonou. drudg- ery m that office, aU the ' fool', paradise " hour, he had passed with Ethel Sherman, aU the harsh bitter^ ness he had heard from tho lips of Jack Nickerson - and now the new life, new ambition, and new influ- ence that had come f» him - passed in review. And aa he leisurely puffed hi. cigar, looking the while oat upon the boundless e^anse that, like an eternity, lay before him, he saw himself as he w«i, and knw i i * ' I ii 06 BOCKHATBN "^ that as a man of honor and for his own peace of mind, he must choose between two ways. That he could not escape the island for months and perhaps for years, he saw clearly, and if he remained, as re- main he must if he were to win success in this new project, he must inevitably become one and a part of the social and hard-working life of the people with whom he mingled, sharing their hopes and encourag- ing their ambitions. And if he did, could he go on holding himself alool rom all tender impulses, living the life of a recluse, as iuflexil .e as the granite he quarried, and as void of sentiment ? Winn Hardy besides being impulsive was endowed with a vein of romance, and saw and felt the poetic side of all things. The whispers of winds in the pine trees, flowers that grew wild in out of the way nooks, birds singing, bees gathering honey, squirrels hiding their winter store of nuts, the sea in all its moods, clouds sailing across a summer sky and all that was beautiful in nature appealed to him. This island whose frowning cliffs faced the ocean billows so defi- antly, the placid harbor with its rippled sandy shore, the old tide mill an ancient ruin, the dark thickets of spruce between the rolling ledges of granite, and the weird gorge where this girl had hid herself, each and all seemed to him as so many bits of poetry. THE PARTING OP THE WATS 97 Then the peculiar and romantic fact of her going to such a picturesque spot, out of sight and sound of even the island people, and beyond that the wonder- ful sweetness and pathos of her simple music, aU appealed to him as to but few. It was as if he felt in her a kinship of soul, an echo of his own poetic nature, a response to his o^ra ideals in life, with a face like a flower, lips like two rosebuds, and eyes like a Madonna. For a long time he sat there in communion with his own needs and nature, sobered by the silence of night and eternity so near him. When he arose, turn- ing back toward the village, he paused on the brow of the hill, koking down upon it still and silent in the faint moonlight. Away to the right and pointing skyward, he saw the little spire of the church whose bell had recalled his early boyhood days and nil the sweet and pure influences they had contained, even the face of his own mother, he knew he should never look upon again. And with that recollection came the half-pitiful words he had heard in that church that seemed like a plea for help from starvation. Winn was not religious. He had never been drawn toward an open profession of faith. He had at first felt church going and Sabbath-school lessons an irksome task, and later a social custom, useful V I - 1 I' '3 'r c '. - * '. * i'" ,( V- i 08 BOOKKAVBir because it bound together congenial people. He be- lieved in God but not in prayer. His heart was in sympathy with all the carnal needs of humanity, but not the spiritual; those ho considered figments of the imagination, useful, maybe, when old age came, but needbos during healthy, active life. To the customary observance of them he always yielded respectful attention, but felt not their influence. And musing there it came to him that perhaps some divine power had directed his footsteps and broiight him into the lives of these simple honest people for a purpose not xinderstood. , When he reached his room it was fragrant with the flowers Mona had given him that morning, and beside them lay the letter of Ethel Sherman. CHAPTER XIII ■A : WILD BOSES It has been said of the modem young lady that the more of her home life gentleman saw, the less likely he was to fall in love with her; but as the days sped by and Winn saw more of Mona's, he felt that that truism was likely to be reversed. Then another natural result was attained, for finding his mission there a practical one and the money he distributed each Saturday night a powerful argument in his favor, the islanders, from Rev. Jason Bush downward, began to show their cordial interest in his presence. On Sundays when he with Jess, Mrs. Hutton, and Mrs. Moore and Mona usu- ally formed a little group that walked together •> church, in that modest sanctuary he was the one most observed. All to whom he had been introduced seemed to seek an opportunity to bow, and many of the men, whose names he had not learned, showed the same courtesy. When he walked out after the SB ^•■ 100 BOCKHAVXir '^ '■' '.ervice, old and young would stand aside for him to pass. The Rev. Jason Bush perhaps showed the most interest; and in a purely business way, for when he had opportunities (and he found many) it was the quarry and its management and prospects which he was desirous of discussing, instead of the spiritual welfare of Winn, as might be expected. In fact, the latter was never mentioned, and although Mr. Bush lamented that Rockhaven was divided into two sects, and that neither church had a following suflScient to support it, it was here again the business side of the matter v lich seemed uppeipost in that worthy par- son's mind. But it was the cordiality shown by Mrs. Hutton on all possible occasions that interested Winn most, because it appealed to the domestic and home-loving side of his nature. lie had never known much of home life since maturity, for his aunt was not a home-maker, leaving that to her servants and scold- ing because they failed, and to see whpt thought and care could do in that direction, even though in a modest way, attracted him. And since her door ap- peared always open to him and an unfailing welcome waiting, he would have been less than human had he not availed himself of the opportunity. Hardly an evening passed that he did not see or speak with WILD B0SE8 101 either mother or daughter, and occasionally made one at their tahle. It was here that Jess was often in evidence, usually eating his dinner there — al- ways on Sunday. Then again, as the grass-grown dooryard of his domicile adjoined the flower-filled one of Mrs. Hutton, by some occult process a freshly cut bunch of roses, sweet peas or pinks, found its way to his room each day. It was a trifle, perhaps, but it is such trifles that make up home life. And Mona herself, now that her timidity had worn away t" a certain extent, began to grow upon him. He had, from the evening when he communed with himself in solitude, continually treated her with a sort of big brother consideration; but as he saw more of her and realized the limitations of her life, so small in comparison with her aspirations; how day by day she livod, feeling herself a prisoner on the island, with no one there who understood her except Jess, a little bud of pity started in Winn's heart, and the temptation that assailed him that day in the cave grew stronger. " If I should feel the witchery of her playing in that romaniic spot a few times," he said to himself, " I should fall in love with her, and couldn't help it." But temptations of that nature are hard to resist. I >: ; ■I ' -1 It! 103 aooxHAvxir ^1' and like sweet potations, once tested, we desire to sip again. So it came about that one morning Winn said to her: " Mona, I am going to treat myself to a half day away from the quarry, and if your mother is willing, I want you to visit the gorge with me this afternoon and bring your violin. I would rather you asked her consent," he added pointedly, " I shall enjoy it better." As this perfect June afternoon and its enjoyment had much to do with shaping the heart histories of these two young people, considerable space can well be devoted to it, and especially to their exchange of ideas and feelings. " I will let you carry the violin now," said Winn, when they had left the village out of sight, " I want to gather a few wild roses to decorate your trysting place. I have odd fancies about such things and be- lieve, as the Greeks did, that eveiy cave and grotto is inhabited by some nymph or gnome. From the way your playing there has affected me each time, I am sure it is some beautiful nymph who has chosen the Devil's Oven for her abode, so I am going to present her with a nosegay." " I have read about fairies," responded Mona, art^ lessly, " but I do not believe such creatures ever ex- isted." ^ ^ WILD B0BB8 108 "But they do," asserted Winr, smiling, as he gathered his roses, "and if your imagination is strong enough, you can feel their presence many times. I made sure there was one hid somewhere, that day I first heard you playing." " And did you think so when you hid behind the rock and scared me half to death 8 " she queried. " No," he responded, " I knew it was a real flesh and blood fairy then, for I had seen you come out of the gorge." " And so you came back to scare me," she said playfully, "that wasn't nice. If you wanted to know who it was, why didn't you ask Uncle Jess \ He would have told you." " Yes, and spoiled all the romance of it," answered Winn. " It's like detecting the presence of nymphs and fairies. If you go to a grotto or cave alone and listen for them, you will feel or hear them always, in some way." " If I believed that," replied Mona, seriously, " I would never go to the cave alone again. I should feel it to be haunted." " But you admit you can play better there, and feel more of the spirit of your music," asserted Winn ; " tell me why that is." " Because I am alone, and feel myself to be so," i .? \ ; ' i i 1 d I 104 BOOXHATKN il r she answered firmly. " I do not believe it is due to any unseen creature." " But you played with wondrous feeling the day I came there with you," he replied, " you weren't alone then." " I am glad you think so," she answered, turning away, " I tried to, but was so afraid of you, I trembled." Winn smiled at her candor. " You don't know how to flirt, do you, Mona ? " he asked pointedly, " you utter the truth always." " Does flirting consist of. deception ? " she asked, looking earnestly at him. " Yes," he answered, " and of the most adroit kind. It's the weapon that all world-wise women use to en- slave men, and the more skilled they are at it, the more assured is their success." " Do men ever deceive ? " she queried, her fathom- less eyes still on him. " Yes, little girl," he answered, looking away and out over the ocean and resolving to be sincere, " men are the same as women in that respect ; some do it in self-defence, and others out of selfishness. Then once in a while, one will never do it, except out of kindness. Such men are usually imposed upon." When they reached the briuk of the chasm he took WILD SOSES 106 hep hand. " I am so afraid you will glip in going down," he said, " and if you were hurt, I should never forgive myself." He retained it down the Bteep path and up the devious way to the cave. When it was reached she seated herself and said, smiling at him, " Now you are here, let me see you give your flowers to the fairy." Fop answer he gallantly touched them with his lips and handed them to her. " You are the fairy who lives here," he said, " for I shall never think of this spot without seeing you in it." Mona colored a little and then a shade crossed her face. " Isn't that deception « " she said. " You do not mean it." " I mean to say every nice thing I can think of to^ay," he answered, " and do all I can to make you enjoy it. A truly happy hour is a rare experience in life, and I want to find one for you." Then, taking his cigar case out and stretching himself on one side of the cave, he added: "I wish we had brought some cuf' js. I will, the next time we come." " I do not think how hard the rock is," she an- swered; " when I am playing I forget where I am. even." " Well, forget it quick," he said, " so I can. Only do not play ' Annie Laurie ' till the last thing. You >'■ ' II Mj I 1 -r 1 i ' 1 > J 1 10« ■OCKHATm hi V i » s f 'ii brought • mist to my eyee with it the other day. It's a Bweet bit, full of teara." And then, not heeding his pleasantriea, many of which she did not understand, Mona drew her dearly loved brown fiddle out cf its case, and once more that uncanny den in the rocks echoed to its magic. A medley of old-timo ballads, jigs, reels, and dance music came forth in succession, while Winn, for- getting his cigar, yielded to her music and watched her lissom body encased in blue flannel, open at the throat, swaying slightly an she played, her winsome face turned from him in profile and eyes closed at times. Once only, when a certain air recalled the past, did he think of the woman who had scorned him, and whose letter was still unanswered. " Do not play any more now," he said finally, when Mona paused, " you must be tired." " I must have tired you of it," she answered bluntly, " and I am glad. I want to hear you talk and tell me about fairies and the great city whero you lived, and about that woman who played before people. I wish I could learn to play as you say she did." " Oh, there's not much to tell about fairies," he an- swered, smiling at her earnestness, " they are merely imaginary and used to amuse children. Many years S. ! WILD son 107 ago, when the world was young, people believed in and worshipped them as gods and goddesses; now they are poetic fancies." " What are poetic fancies ? " she asked, under- standing him only partially. " Well, for instance," he answered, " a poet would describe this gorge as a way through the cli£F carved by Neptune, and this cave a shelter the mermaids sought to comb their tresses and sing the songs of the sea. Of '^Id every cascade and grotto was believed to be inhabited by nymphs and gnomes, »very grove by wood sprites and brownies. If they saw a brook rippling over the pebbles in the sunlight, they said it was elfins dancing; and in autumn when the fallen leaves blew over the hilltops, it was the brownies holding carnival." " I do not believe such creatures ever did exist," she replied, " but I shall enjoy coming here all the better for having heard about them." Then as if she already looked to him as a source of all information, she added, " Tell me about the women in your city who ride in carriages and wear beautiful dresses." A shade of annoyance crossed his face. " I would rather tell you about the fairiea, little girl," he an- swered bitterly ; " the women in my world are mostly *(■ 1 > n m '.■■' i 1 '. i 108 XOCKIIAVKN rliarniiiiK lian. They live to outRliinc each other in clreM, they utter pretty sih-ccIiob that are false, they go to ehiirch to show mu their raiment and come back to nneor at what otliers wear, they consider a man as clij;il)le for a hushand solely bocaiiso he has money, and if he tells them the truth, call him a fool. I do not adinirc them much, Mona, and the less you know of them the better woman you will grow to be, and the better wife you will make ndiiie man." Mona flushed slifciitly and raising her eyes and looking full at him, responded, " Do all the men in your world despise women as you do, and is there not among them one who is good and tender and truth- ful? " Winn remained silent a moment, for the delicate reproach of her words was unexpected. " There may be some," he answered evasively at last, " but I have never met them and a man is apt to judge all women by those he has known." " And if there is now and then one among them who is not false-hearted," continued Mona, " is she not respected and loved for it ? " " She might be by some," he answered doubtfully, " but most would call her stupid." " Would the men call her stupid ? " persisted Mona. WILD RORM 109 " Some of them would," he answered, smiling nt her eameotnesB, " hut most of them wouhl take ad- vantago of it. World-wise men jcn-w lo lie selfish." Then, as if the subject was distasteful, or her in(|ui- ries too pointed, ho added, " Do you know wl.it l..ve is, Monu, and have you never had a lover amouK the young fishermen here ? " " I have read about it," she answered with perfect sincerity, and smiling at her own thought, " but I've never had mueh for nny of the boys I've known; they smell too fishy." This time Winn laughed heartily. " And is your nose the by-road to your heart 3 " he asked. "It may be," she replied, also laughing, "if I have one." It w.i!< the first coquettish word she had so far ut- tered, ond Winn did not like it. " That does not sound like you. Mono," he replied soberly, " your greatest eharm, and it is a charm, is sincerity. When you speak that way you remind me of the ladies in my world, and I do not like them." " And if I am always truthful," she said, " you will call me simple, won't you ? " " No, I told you I admired that in yon," he said, "but you have not answered my question, Mona. Have you never had a lover i " ' J M * m n I H 110 BOOKHATBir " I have had two or three," she replied again, look- ing sober, " at least they said they loved me, but I did not return it." And as Winn looked at the girlish figure, just showing the rounded curves of womanhood beneath its close-fitting blue flannel gown, and at the pansy face with eyes like one of those purple petals, fixed on him, he, manlike, thought how sweet it would be to moisten them with the dew of love's light and feel the touch of her velvety lips. Bui should he try for that prize, and did he want it, if he could win it ? The lowering sun had thrown the shadows of the spruce trees adown the gorge, the wind scarce ruffled the ocean and only the low lullaby of its undulations crept up the ravine. It was the parting of day and night, the good-by of sunshine, the peace of summer twilight. " Now, Mona," he half whispered, as if fear- ing to scare the mermaids away, " play ' Annie Laurie M" And lost to the world, he watched her bending over and caressing that old brown fiddle, even as a mother would press her baby's face to her own, again and once again came that whisper of a love that never dies, a refrain that holds the pathos of life and part- WILD B08E8 111 ing in it8 chords, a love cry centuries old, . . sweet m lieaven, as sad as death. ■' Oome, little girl," he said, rising s aid.nly v.-he,, only the ocean's whisper reached his ea.vs. • ifs tin i to go home." And as, clasping her hanc, and la ,1- lence leading her out of the gorge, he noticed when one of the roses she carried from the cave fell among the rocks, she stooped and picked it up. i I ri '■ i CHAPTEE XIV J. MALCOLM WESTON There is in this land of the free, where all men are created equal (on paper), a class of financial sharpers, whose ambition and sole occupation is to secure for themselves the wealth of others by the most occult and far-reaching scheming ever evolved by human brain. They toil not, neither do they pro- duce, yet Satan with all his archness is not equipped like one of these. There is no taint of illegality in their methods, they are outwardly the best of men, heralded by the press as great financiers, railroad magnates, oil, copper, and iron kings, praised by the rich and toadied to by the poor. They are envied by many, lauded by editors who seek advertisements, and (if they contribute liberally) praised by college presidents and preachers alike. Political fortunes are turned by their nod, laws enacted in their aid, the code of morals shaded in their favor, club doors opened, and society bowing low whichever way they turn. Only the toiling millions whose lives are one iia J. MALCOLM WESTON II3 long fight against poverty think or speak ill of them and such are not considered. Those magnates of ex- tortion so colossal that it is legal, have one trite ex- pression that contains their contempt for the millions who envy, and that is, " The public be d d." Of their operation on the chess board of finance little need be said. It is known, or at least its re- suits are, to high or lou, rich or poor. These octo- puses, or rather human sharks, organize trusts, corner every necessary of life where conditions will permit- buy bankrupt railroads, inflate their stock, boom it by systematic deception and then unload it at top prices on the countless flocks of lambs ever ready to buy what is dear, and who never by any known pro- cess can be induced to buy what is cheap. And those are financiers I There is another class, usually v ■ ,s money but equal in brains and audacity, wh. . , e come to be Imown as promoters. Relatively speaking they should be called dogfish. They would be financiers If they could, but lacking capital to buy railroads, or comer everything on the earth, except water, they merely organize schemes and sell stock. How many and how varied those are, it is waste of space to spec- ify All that the patient reader need do is consult the pages of any or all city dailies and read the H n 114 BOCKEAVEir ¥ I - tempting list of schemes there to be found. All are alike in the main, for all offer safe investments, sure and ample returns, indorsed by names that glitter, and promise everything under the sun, — except to return your money if you do not get value promised. Of this class was J. Malcolm Weston. He had organized two or three glittering bubbles before the firm of Weston & Hill was established, but from lack of capital failed to reap the hoped-for reward. Then along came Hill, a retired manufac- turer, whose history shall be given in due time, who had more money than braids and more conceit than either. Weston, a shrewd and smooth-tongued schemer, reading Hill at a glance, was not long in flattering that gullible man into a partnership and taking him and his money into camp, as it wev,' For a time, and while Winn Hardy was serving ap- prenticeship, the firm conducted a fairly honest and respectable business. They bought and sold stocks and bonds of all kinds, that is, they sold and then bought to fill orders only, — a species of commission business perfectly safe, but not satisfying to Weston. He longed to soar, to organize a great scheme, a glit- tering bubble, to see his name in print as a king of finance, and do it on other people's money — and Hill's. ' J. MALCOLM WESTON 115 Then one day, while off with his broker, Simmons, on the latter's steam yacht, visiting various north coast islands, the impiilse culminated. " Why not buy one of these inlands," said Sim- mons, " and start a quarry company ? You can buy one for a song and a granit^quarrying industry sounds safe and will catch the cautious. I am in- tending to build a fine residence in the near future and you can furnish me the stone. In return I'll market stock enough to pay for it. We can find an island with a harbor and buy it, or a part, which is all that IS needful, and you can do the rest." And thus the scheme was hatched, and when J. Malcolm Weston, the to-be great financier, returned to the city he was sole owner of Jess Hutton's unused quarry and the Rockhaven Granite Company was born. It took time, however, for Hill was a cautious man, holding on to his purse-strings with the grip of death, and Weston must needs approach him cir- cuitously. Then there were outsiders to warm up, as It were, men of some financial standing whose names were of value, to interest; a charter to be ob- tained, and all the legal and business dotail necessary to the carrying out of a scheme to be attended to. It also needed all of Weston's plausible arguments to perfect the plot, and summer came around again be- * ■> m [■! i'l 116 EOCKHAVBW if fore the conspiracy was ready to be launched. Then " the street " was cautious, and 'knowing Weston's reputation in the past, was not eager, or even willing, to buy this stock. At first, a few credulous people like Winn's aunt and two or three others who be- lieved in Weston bought small lots, and the men whose names appeared on the prospectus were each and all given stock in due ratio to their prominence. And then Simmons began his fine work. He knew, and so did Weston, that every share they had given away would be offered for sale as soon as a price for it had been eatablished " on' 'change " and then the scheme world fall flat. But Simmons had ideas of his own. "We must wait," he said, "until your man Hardy has shipped us one or two loads of gran- ite, then herald that fact repeatedly in the papers until the dear confiding public don't know whether one or ten shiploads have arrived, and then — de- clare a dividend ! " It was not long after, and when Winn Hardy, the honest dupe that he was, was either zealously striving to push the Rockhaven Granite Company interests toward success, or thinking about what fine eyes Mona Hutton had, that the Market News contained the following item : — " The first load of granite destined for the new and J. MALCOLM WESTON 117 palatial icJdcnce which Richard Simmons, the well- known broker, is about to build, has arrived. It came from the Kockhaven Granite Company's quarries on an island they own, which producer the finest quality of building stone obtainable." A week later this item also appeared in the same financial sheet : — " It is rumored that all the treasury stock of the Rockhaven Granite Company has been subscribed for and that this enterprising corporation is overwhelmed with orders for their excellent product. This is due to the rapid growth of our beautiful city and the con- sequent demand for building materials." And J. Malcolm Weston, after reading them in the privacy of his office, stroked his abundant side wliiskers with an admiring caress, while a smile of satisfaction spread over his genial face. It was the beginning of his long-cherished ambition to pose as a great financier and it filled his s ul with joy. " A dozen or more of such items will start the ball rolling in glorious shape," he said to Hill, "and boom Rockhaven to beat the cards." But Hill, the narrow-minded and close-fisted man that he was, only looked cross, and sourly asked " What did they cost ? " ' i ':= i • 11 CHAPTER XV A MATTER OF BUSINESS As tlie days passed on Winn noticed that more and more interest cnine to be felt in the Rockhaven Gran- ite (Company and his management. And when the first schooner he had chartered to load with qiiarried stone came into the harbor and alongside the little wharf in front of the quarry, almost a bree/o of ex- citement seemed to ripple through the village. The women whose husbands were working there came down to see the loading, children wanted to climb aboard the vessel, and even the Rev. Jason Bush spent hours watching the massive blocks as they were swung on board. Old Jess Hutton left his store, and the people to help themselves, every afternoon, and perched on a convenient outpost, looked on. Only Mona kept away, and when one evening Winn asked her why, she colored slightly and replied, " It hurts me a little to gee that old ledge Uncle Jess used to own being blasted and carried off." It wasn't her only reason, though a part of it ; the 118 A, MATTKB OF BDHINESS 119 rest was of such a nature that Mona kept it locked in her brearf For the good natives of Itockhaven, as well as otl.erd, had noticed thot Winn always walked with her going and coming from church and had com- mented upon it, and Mona had heard of their com- ments. Winn was not her lover as yet, siie felt, and not likely to be. She could not and would not avoid walking and talking with him, but she could avoid seeming to pursue him over to the quarry. It was all due to a remark Mrs. Moore had made in a neighborly way. " I like Mr. Hardy, right well," she had said one morning when Mona brought in a fresh bunch of Juno roses and asked that she put them in his room, " an' if I was a young gal like you, I'd set my cap for him. It looks as if you had, a-bringin' him fresh posies, an' if ye keep it up the right way, an' don't let him make too free with ye, ye kin. It 'ud be a great catch for ye if ye did." After that Mona brought no more flowers for Winn's room, but her mother, observant ever, and world-wise in a way, did so, and Winn never knew the difference. When the second load of stone had been shipped, and the July sun had begun to shrivel the scanty '^ I U m 120 BOCKHAVIir grass in Mrs. Mooro's dooryard, her two sons sailed into the harbor one day to spend a Sunday there. They were browned by the sea-winds and redolent of its crisp odors, and when Winn came back from the quarr' at supper time he found them there. " 1 hoar ye'ro blowin' up an' carryin' off our '"liind," said David, the oldest, on being introduced, " an' it's a good thing. The rock ain't o' much account an' most on't is in the way. Thar ain't room 'nough 'l-iirside o' the water here to dry fish, let alone settin' up houses." And that Saturday evening, when Winn, as usual, repaired to the store of Jess Hutton to pay off his men, this swarthy sailor was sitting ipon the doorstep of Mrs. Hutton's home, chewing Cubacco vigorously and talking to Mona. The next day, too, dressed in a suit of new clothes that, to use a slang phrase, "could be heard across the island," he boldly and with an air of proprietor- ship walked beside her to church and seated himself in the same pew. Winn, who had never taken this liberty, and who sat with Mrs. Moore just to the rear, watched Mona industriously and noticed that once when the young fisherman leaned over to whisper she odged away. All that day not once did Winn exchange a word with A MATTEB OV BUHINES8 121 her except the "good morning ' that was his early grncling, nnd when evening came he once more lit his cii?ar and strolled up Norse Hill to commune with himself, for the sight of tliat swaggering son of Neptune making himself agreeable to Mona was not pleasant. In this respect men are all alike, and whether they want a woman or not, a shadow of the old instinct that existed among the cave dwellers is latent. It was two days after when the brothers sailed away, and by that time Winn had decided that no matter how interested young Moore was in Mona, she reciprocated no part of it. And then another, and totally unexpected success in his new life came to him, and that from Jess. "I've been layin' back 'n' watehin' how things was goin' on," observed that pliilosopher one evening when they were alone . 3 s,torc, " an' how ye have behaved yerself, an' I'm goin' to be plain spoken with ye. In the fust place I've made up my mind ye're a good, honest and well-meanin' young man, an' if 'twas goin' ter help ye any, an' if ye are likely to make it yer home here a year or two, I'd buy a few shares of this stock jist ter show ye 'n' yer folks Rock- haven appreciates the wages ye're payin' out. I'm goin' ter ask ye a few questions, an' if matters is all n 133 ■OOKHAVCH li! li right, I'll take five hundrud on't an' mebbe I cud git Caii'n Mooro an' tlap'n Uohy 'n' one or two otheni to buy a leetle. They would if they knew I had." To say that Winn was aurprised was to put it mildly. " I will gladly answer any question you may ask, Mr. Button, and truthfully," he replied. " I know how you feel in regard to tliis enterprise and how much any one would hate to lose a dollar they invested in our stock. It is because of this that I have not so far asked a soul, not even you, to invest a cent with us, though we are ready and shall be glad to have you. As to how long I shall stay here, that is a matter over which I have no control. I am only a manager for the company. I own some of the stock and draw a fair salary, and if this quarry pays (and I shall do my best to make it) I may stay here for life." " Is this here Weston wuth a good deal o' money," queried Jess n response, " an' what sort o' man is he reckoned ii the city ? Is he counted as square an* lionest, or a sharper ? " " So far us I know," responded Winn, " he is an honorable business man ; and although this quarrying company is like any other enterprise — a venture A ICATTKB or BURINKN8 123 I do not think Mr. Weston would have gone into it un- le»B he felt Bure of making money." Jew asked a good many other questions which, witli their answers, not being pertinent to the thread of this narrative, need not be quoted. When Winn left him that niglit, after ho had gone over in detail all he knew regarding Weston & Hill and their busi- ness, it was with the feeling that he had conquered Rockhaven and its oracle without an effort. Ho little realized that a far more subtile influence than divi- dends had intere8>»ii| 182 BOOKHATE^ awaken suspicion; to accept it was as bad, for it compromised him the deeper. For a long hour he tried to think a way for himself out of this fog, and the more he thought the more positive his sus- picion grew, and then he returned to his abode. And there in Rock Lano and as if to increase his burden of responsibility, was Mona sitting in the porch of her htunble home alone. " Why, little gi-1," he said softly, pausing at the gate, " are you not abed and asleep ? " And Mona, unconscious qi how or in what way it would strike him, and in the utter innocence of her heart, came quickly out to where he was standing. " I was lonesome," she said simply, " and wait- ing for you to come back. I saw you go up the hill and wondered what for." And Winn, despondent and worried as ho was, and looking down into the sweet face and earnest eyes upraised to him, felt their ten- der sympathy wondrously sweet. " I went up thero to think," he said, " and to be alone. It is a way I have when business troubles me." And bidding her "good night" he left her. lis CHAPTER XVII '3? IW THI PATH OF MOONLIOHT Fob a few weeks Winn worried over the suspicions of Weston & Hill's honesty that seemed like a cloud of danger, and then, to a certain extent, it passed away. Tc - one, not even Jess, did he dare coniide them, but just drifted on, day by day, doing the duty he was paid to do. Each week came his pay-roll and salary remittance, and an assuring and pleasant letter from the firm. It also contained a request or hope that he would not forget to sell stock when he could. This latter, however, made no impression on Winn. Collectively, he had sold about one thou- sand shares to these islanders, and that he felt was enough. In fact, believing, as he had almost come to do, that the entire scheme was a gigantic swindle, it was certainly all he intended to sell, and more than he wished he had sold. Then there was another mat- ter of serious interest, and that was Mona. Between her and himself, these summer days, there had come a little bond of feeling, deep-rooted in her 133 ¥ \ I'? '>ii 'A i y| 184 BOCXHATIN simple but passionate nature, and more lightly in his. To her it was a T.ew wonder-world, and as each evening when he .uanced to linger by the gate watching her, as she cared for the sweet wilHams, pinks, and peonies that grew in her dooryard, or later when he sat with her in the vine-hid porch, chatting of commonplaces or relating incidents of the great world outoide, his earnest eyes, the melodious tones of his voice, and the careless, half cynical, half tender way he had of expressing himself, only in- creased the charm. Occasionally, on Thursday even- ings, when her mother, as usual, made one of the little band who gathered in the church, they two would stroll over to the cKff beyond Norse Hill or up the road to Northaven to the old tide mill. On two occasions he had persuaded her to take her violin and visit the gorge with him, where she played at his bidding, her heart gladdened by the thought that he eared to hear her. But she preferred his poetic fan- cies and world-taught sayings to the violin, and since she was so charming and interested a listener, it was inevitable that he talked much. Another matter also troubled him seriously. He had, at the beginning of th f acquaintance, and from a desire to utter pleasant words to Mona, assured her that she was gifted with a remarkable IW THE PATH or MOONLIOUT 18C talent for playing, and if she would but make the effort, the world would bow before her. It wag a kindly speech, and charmed as ho was by time, place, and the power of the old love songs she rendered with euch exquisite feeling, he really meant it, little real- uing its effect on her. N^^ ^^^j ^^ jjj ^^^j.^^ .^^ and coula not fail to see that every word he uttcre.1 was considered by her as authoritative, he wished that he had been more cautious. Then again, he un- derstood her better and saw what an ardent child of nature she was, and how her heart and soul vibrated to every pulse of the ocean and the mystic romance of the wild gorge she sought so often. To him now she seemed like a veritable nymph of old, or a mer- maid, whose soul was attuned to the wild voice of wind and wave sighing through the rock-walled ra- vine and the thicket of spruce above it. For such a creature of moods and fancies to thrust herself into a merciless world, where sentiment was a jest and romance an illusion, seemed a sacrilege. And he was to blame for her wish to do so ! Then again, he felt that if the world could but see and hear her, it must, perforce, crown her with the laurel wreath. True to his impulsive nature, in this as in all things, he alternated in his own opinions as to what was best for her. t'. ■ ri J it in It il '''1. m I 136 BOCKIIAVBN PI I t Iff ''.i i^ And ao the summer days passed, and Winn, half conscious that she was learning the sad lesson of love, and yet stifling his conscience with the feeling that ho was only jilaying the role of big brother, which he had decided to adopt, allowed the (to him) pleasant pastime to continue. It may be said that it was unfair for him, a pol- ished man of the world, and knowing full ^■.(11 that there could be but one result to this delightful inti- macy, to allow it to continue, and yet he did. And it must also be asserted, th'* under the same circum- stances and like provocation, few men there are who would not do iikcwi'- . One surprise ca'ue to him, however, for ho had sent to the city for a book of instructions on the violin and a supply of new music, only to find, when he gave tlium to her, that she was unable to read a note. " I told you," she said plaintively, " that I knew nothing about music except what Uncle Jess has taught me, and I wonder how you can think I play so well. If only I could go away and loam even a little, I should be so happy." " Yes," he responded, smiling at her, for he had ei me to speak as he thought and felt, " and learn also that men admired you, and grow vain of your looks, I IN Till PATH OI' MOONMOIIT 187 and become one of the artful women of wxiicty, in- itead of sweet and jmro-minded Mona. You are better off where you arc, for here you are happy and carc-frec." Tlien one evening eame another, and more aerioua, revelation to liim. They had strolled ui- to the ol.I tide mill, and sat watching the moon hi^rl, overhead, outlining its path of silver sheen upon the rippled waters of tiie harbor, while he, as usual, was giving utterance to some of his delicately worded sayings. " I do not understand," she said in response to one more pointed than the rest, " why you think so badly of womankind in the great world. Are they all so selfish, and artful, and deceitful, as you say'? I have seen some who came here in their beautiful yachts, and they looked so nice in their white dresses, and so sweet and gentle, I envied them." Winn looked at her and smiled. " I have no doubt, little girl, you admired and en- vied them, and that they looia-d to you as beautiful and charming as so many fairies. That was the principal reason they came ashore — just to be seen and admired by you people here, who, they knew, never were, and, most likely, never would be, clnd as they were. That is all these butterflies of fashion 'f 1 '1 »>1 188 BOOKHAVEN live for — to show off their beautiful plumage and be envied by others." " Maybe you know them best," she responded re- gretfully, as if sorry he had spoiled an illusion, " but I thought them so beautiful and sweet and so like pic- tures in books, it seemed to me they must be as de- scribed there and never wicked or deceitful." " And so you have been believing all you read in books, have you, little one ? " he said, smiling again, " and that those show birds who lit on the island flew out of the pages of story books ? And yet, the other day, when I told you about the nymphs and elfins, you did not believe me, Mona 1 " " I have never seen those creatures," she replied, " and 1! have seen these." " Neither have you seen Qod, or the Saviour, or the angels," he said, " and yet you believe they exist." " I do," she answered firmly, " and I should go crazy with fear if I didn't. But your wonderful creatures, who lived so long ago, did not make this world, as God did." " People believed they did in those days," he re- plied quietly, " and just as firmly as we believe God did." She made no answer, for the subject was beyond m THE PATH OP ItOONMOHT 139 her, but silently watched the beauteous moonlight picture before her. " I should like to go into the great world," she said at last, as if that fascinated her, "and wear beautiful dresses and see those others wear, and hear that wonderful woman you told about play the violin, and watch them throw flowers at her. I should like to be one with the rest just for a little while, and then come back." " If you did that you would never come back " he answered, "or if you did you would be miserable ever after." "I should have to," she said, as anotl. r side of the question presented itself to her, " if I couldn't earn my living there." " You would have to, surely," he answered slowly, thinking of some phases of city existence, but aUow- ing no hint of them to escape him, " It is foolish to dream of these things, little girl," he continued, " for they are impossible. Even if you had the means to jom the great throng of city revellers, you would, with your disposition, be wounded deep on aU sides' The women would say spiteful things about you, and scratch you every way they could, as is their nature; and the men would fill your ears with subtle flattery and each one spread before you the most insidiou^ ■I* 'Mi r i u 140 BOCSUATBir net ever woven by mortal brain. No, little sister, be content where you are, and if you are lonely, go to the cave and listen to the whisper of the fairies. They will never stab you to the heart, as the worldly women will. You are like a wild rose now, and as sweet and innocent. You say what you think and mean what you say. Your heart is tender and true and your thoughts pure and simple. You deceive no one, and would not, if you could." " But might I not learn to play as the wonderful woman did," she asked stoutly, " and could I not earn my own living if I did ? I need not know, nor care, what these spiteful women said about me, need I ? " Winn looked at her in surprise. " And so this is the bee that has crept into the heart of my wild rose, is it ? " he said. " You thirst for fame and the laurel wreath, do you, Mona f I thought I had come to know you well, little one," he continued tenderly, " but this surprises me. Do you know what it means, and that to win the world's ap- plause you must study your art for years, and step by step win your way up the ladder, and that already ahead of you are hundreds who will miss no chance to push you backwards ? And who will pay for all the cost of tuition and training you must go through, Mona!" IN THE PATH OF MOONLIOJtT -1 141 " Uncle Jess will," she answered simply, " if I ask him. He loves me." Winn was silent, conscions that beside him was a creature as tender as a flower and as innocent, with a wih to do and dare, or strive to do, what few women wovld, and in her heart was an ambition that, like the bee m the flower, would rob her of all life's sweetness. "I am sorry." he said at last, " that you have this ambition. It i creditable to you, but hopeless. Put It out of your mind before it destroys your peace Be your o.vn sweet self here on the island, and some day you will learn to love one of its hardv sons, like David Moore, perhaps, and he will make you a home and strive for your happiness." " I do not care fo- him, or any of the others," she answered, " and never shall." It was not the first time he had mentioned young Moore to her, but never before in so serious a way and it hurt. "I am sorry," she continued, "that I told you vrhat I have, but somehow I thought you understood me better than any one else. It is all right, however, and no doubt what you say is true." He noticed there was a little quiver in her voice and realized he had hurt her. He had, but not in' the way he thought. ■',*I I i 142 HOOKIUTEH For a long time they sat in silence, watching the whitened ledges that bordered the island, the spectral spruces that grew to the right of where they were, the twinkling gleam of the lighthouse in the distance, and the shimmering path of moonlight across the harbor that ended at their feet. " It's a beautiful night," said Winn at last, " and I hate to leave this spot, but I think it's time you were home." And as he spoke he stooped, and, putting his hand under her arm, lifted her to ber feet As he did so, a single tear fell upon his hand. CHAPTER XVIII IW A FOO Men are very much alike in this respect: if one finds fortune or a path that seems to lead that way all who suspect it will try to crowd in. The same instmct may be seen among a flock of fowl, only we do not pursue so openly. And so, when news of the unexpected and early dividend on Rockhaven stock circulated -as it was quick in doing - everybody on the island who had a few dollars laid away made haste to seek Winn, anxious to invest. The leaven worked as that shrewd swindler, Weston, knew full well it would, and had Winn's suspicions not been aroused, and he too honest to take advantage of these people, he might have sold five Hiousand shares, and as the sequel proved, bankrupted the island. For these hard-working people, though living in hovels and wearing clothing a tramp would almost disdain were frugal, and each and all had something saved for a rainy day. The wisest had, from time to time sent their savings ashore by Captain Roby to deposit 148 f 1 144 EOOKIIAVKN in a savings bank ; others kept a few dollars hid in bedticks or similarly secreted; but now, solely be- cause Jess Hutton, the oraole of the island, was known to have invested in this stock and received such fab- ulous returns, all were anxious to follow his lead. A little spice of envy crept in also at his good luck, and Mrs. Moore, in chatting with a neighbor, voiced it. " It's alius the way," she said plaintively, " when Jess bought that ledge o' stun from Qad Baker an' gin him a hundred doUara for't, 'most everybody thought he was a fool, and now 'long comes this city man and gives him two thousand for't, an' on top o' that Jess buys some o' this stock an' gets a hundred dollars profit fust go-off. Here I've been cookin' an' washin', year in an' year out, an' jist keepin' soul 'n' body together, an' the boys spendin' every cent they aimed — not thet I'm complainin' on them, only if I had five hundred laid away I might put in as much as Jess did. It don't seem right, that it don't ! How- soever, it's the way o' the world, an' them as has, gits." Little did hard-working Widow Moore realize when Dame Fortune was good to her ! But Winn was the most worried person on the isl- and, and his burden the heavier to bear since he dared nr A Foo 146 not hint hit. BiMpieiona to any one. To all who came and almost begged him to take their savings in ex- change for stock he made only one reply, " We have no more to sell," and had there been a stock exchange on the island, Rockhaven would have soared to twenty dollars a share, so eager were those credulous people to invest. Then another incident of life began to interest them, and, though Winn knew it not, his attentions to Mona began to create gossip, more especially as he was the actual and present representative of a rich corporation. His walking to and from church with her, the hours he had spent in her home, and more than these, the summer evening strolU up to the old tide mill, to linger and watch the moonlight on the water, had all been noticed and commented upon For these people, albeit they worked hard and lived poorly, intuitively knew where Cupid hid himself and how and when he shot his arrows. It was aU nght, of course, and though other less fortunate maids envied Mona, and many of the good mothers voiced their congratulations to Mrs. Button, there was no opposition to this summer idyl. One thing Winn noticed, however, and that was the pertinent fact that when he " dropped in " at Mona's home, as he so often did, her mother usually found i 146 BOOXIIATKN some excuse to absent herself and leave the young couple alone. Had he been desirous of wooing this winsome maid nothing would have pleased him better, but he hardly felt that way. It was true she in- terested him, for what young man could resist her sweet and tender ways, her patience with her mother's implacable dislike of her violin playing and the beautiful soul her truthful eyes bespoke! Then the hours with her in the romantic spot in which she had chosen to seek the goddess of music were more than charming. In a way this trysting place began to seem sacred to him, and the secret hours he had passed with her there a tender bond between them. All these sweet motive forces that move man's nature, like so many little hands, began to entwine them- selves in his. He had no thought of marrying. He realized that ho had yet to carve his way upward to independence before thinking of a home and wife, and beyond that the lesson of distrust Ethel Sherman had taught him still held sway. He was not a model of discretion ; he was an unthinking young man with the germs of fine honor and sturdy honesty latenL within him, and in spite of the cynicism he had im- bibed from Jack Nickerson he was sure in the end to commit no folly, nor wrong man, woman, or child. nr A voo 147 And yet, insensibly, he was doing Mona Hutton the greatest wrong in his power — almost Some realizing sense of this came to him after that evening beside the old tide mill, when his words had caused a single tear to fall upon the hand that helped her to arise, and yet he could not tell what he had said that hurt her so. There is, perhaps, nothing so fascinating in this wide world to a young man as the first signs of a sweet maid's budding love for him, and it must be stated, nothing is harder to turn away from, and Winn was no exception to young men in general. And now that he was conscious of it, that fact, coupled with the business dilemma confronting him, created a double burden. lie saw whither lie was drifting with her and seeing, had not the heart to turn away. On the other hand, the Rockhaven Granite Company began to seem a quagmire of fraud in which he and all who had trusted in him might any day become entangled, their investments swept away, the men he had hired left without pay, and he stranded on this island. It may seem that Winn was borrowing needless worrimpnt, and yet once the 'ker spot of suspicion fastens itself upon a i\«n's I. id, it grows until it turns all things greo». One thing he tried to do — avoid Mom. Aiwt yet m ^y\ m 148 BOOKHAVKir he could not to any extent, for since she dwelt next door he must needs meet her and speak almost daily. And strange to ?ay, now tiiat it was in his heart to act indifferent, her appealing eyes and winsome face began to seem a reproach, and his conscience troubled him. For a week he passed each evening alone in his room trying to read one of the books he had brought with him, or else in Jess Hutton's store, lis- tening to the gossip of the men who gathered there, interspersed with an occasional bit of quaint philoso- phy from the lips of Jess I^imself, and then a bomb- shell in the way of a letter to him reached the island. It was as follows : — " Deab Wunn, " Have been back to the city now for two weeks and watching the trend of the market I was sat- isfied, as I wrote you, that Weston & Hill were pre- paring to launch a skyrocket — now I know it. What with printer's ink and that walking tombstone, Simmons, they have managed to pret Rockhaven among the unlisted but active stocks, and by some chicanery, worked the price up to six dollars. Page, my broker, says it's a wildcat of the most pronounced stripe. A good many are short of it at below its present price and yet it holds firm. I've unloaded half I bought, so IN A FOO 149 I am on Easy Street, and am watching out. It maj go up with a whoop or down with a thud. One guess is as good as another, but what you best do is send me your stock and let Page sell it. Also if you have sold any to your friends, give them the tip. I know you believe in Weston and think, as you have said, that I am a perpetual scoffer. They may be all right, but I don't telieve it, and now as you have a chance to unload and make a good thing, better do it. " Yours ever, " Jack. " P.S. — I forgot to mention that Ethel Sherman is still up in the mountains and the belle of all occa- sions. She asked a lot of questions about you and in such a way I was almost tempted to believe they were sincere. She has failed to land the golf dude, for his mother scented danger and, like a hen, led him away to safety." M '.p I i CHAPTEB XIX A FHILOSOFUBB Wimat had felt it beat to keep silent regarding his ■u«piciong of Weston jc Ilill, but this new develop- ment forced him to unbosom himself to some one and he went to Jess. He waited until the usual even- ing gathering of callers had left the store, and then he told the story of his distrust from the beginning and ended hy reading a portion of Jack's letter. To his surprise Jess received it all aa unmoved as a granite ledge. " I ain't a mite s'rprised," he said, " I sorter felt all 'long that this 'ere boss o' youm was a swindler 'n' foolin' ye, an' the only reason I took any stock was jist to help ye." " I know it," responded Winn, " and it's that and because you have influenced others to do so, that worries me." But Jess only smiled. " Keep cool," he said, " an' let yer hair grow. I ain't in it so deep but I kin 'ford to lose all I've put in 'n' take keer o' the rest on 'em here. What we 160 II A PHII«aoFBK« ISl want to do n >w i« ter cao'ltte. When the wind geU •qually, tlif fuht thing's to shorten sail. I'll 'low yer frii^d knows his business, 'n' we'd best send this dtock to him 'n' let him sell it if he kin find fools to buy it at the price it's goin', an' then we'd best lay tlic men oflF nt the quarry 'n' let 'em go flshin'. We might keep two or three on 'em goin'," ho added us an afterthought, " jist to keep up 'pearanccM n' lay low till the wind shifts." "It may be you are right," asserted Wiuti, " bnf I do not know what to do and the situation worrx-a me." " No sorter use 'n worryin'," said Jess tersely, " ye'r healthy, ain't ye ? " And then Winn laughed. " Yes," he said, " I am, and no worse off than when I came here, but it dis- turbs me to find I've been deceived." " You'll git used to that," replied Jess, " I hev. I cac'late in my time I hev bed more'n a hundred pounds o'wool pulled into myeyes 'n' I ain't blind yit. The only cause I've bed fer blamin' myself is 'most every time I got skinned it was 'cause I was too duiii good-hearted." " And that is just why I feel so bad," put in Winn ; " you bought this stock to help me, and if you lose, it's on me." t.l •1 '■ i 163 BOOXBAVXR fin Jem laughed heartily. " Well, you're shakin' hands with the divil a good wayB off." he said, " up to date I'm ahead o' the game a cool hundred 'n' a middlin' good chance o' gittin' more'n double my money back. I cac'late, of course, this stock ain't wuth a cuss, but if by some hocus-pocus they're sayin' it's wuth what your friend says 'tis, I stand a fair chance o' gittin' square. Bet- ter tell him he kin let it go fer a dollar 'n' not hang on fer more. I'U be satisfied if I git my hat back." ^ ^. Then Jess, the big-hearted, thought of Winn. " It's none o' my bizness," he said, "but ez you've made free to trust me, how air ye fixed on this stock ? Hev ye put much money into it 1 " " I've put five hundred, part borrowed," answered Winn candidly, " and they made me a present of five hundred shares besides." " Wal, that's 8 credit to ye, anyhow," responded Jess with an approving look, " an' ye kin feel ye come higher'n the parson." Then after a few min- utes' silent meditation during which he closed his eyes and stroked his chin affectionately, he added: " As a gineral thing I'd be slow in advisin' anybody to go crooked, but when ye feel ye're in the hands o' sharpers, it's the only way. Now what I'd advise ye t I'lilf ii.i.» it were, into the thoiighU ■nd Ijfo of tliis untutored islun.i girl could have hut one ending, and full well Win., knew what that wa«. The next Sunday chance threw them together, for Winn, to L.scai)c his ituhd, if iwggil.l,., had taken a long stroll over the island and up to the north village. Returning late in tli,. afternoon, he found her sitting by the old mill watching the tide slowly ebbing be- tween its nmssel-coatcNl fo.mdationa. It was a spot romantic in its iHolation, out of sight from any dwell- ing and, in addition, of so.iiewhat jthostly interest. Winn had heard its history. It hi..l Wn built a cen- tury ago and made usef.il for the island's needs, but finally it fell into disuse an. I dway, its roof gone, ite timbers and floor removed, its wi.idows b.it gap- ing openings in the stoi... walls and akin to the lyeless sockeU and mouth of a skt.ll. Then, too, the half- demented girl who years hefor.. had l)een found hang- ing lifeless from one of its cross Ix-ains added an un- canny touch. Winn ha.l felt its grewsomc interest and once or twice had visited it with Mona. And now, coming to it just as the lowering sun had reached the line of spnico trees fringing the western side of the harlmr, he foun.i Mona sitting where they had sat one moonlight evening, idly watching the MICtOCOfY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) ^ /APPLIED IIVHGE In ^^. 1653 Eait Main Street =^ Pochester, Ne* York 146C9 USA '.as (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone ^S ("6) 288 - 5989 - Fa« i i '111! 168 SOCKHATEN motionless harbor stretching a mile away. She was not aware of hia approach, but sat leaning against an abutting stone, looking at the setting sun's red glow on the harbor, a lonely, pathetic figure. For a moment Winn watched her, and watching there beside this uncanny old ruin, lived the past two months over again like a momentary dream, and then drew nearer. "Why, Mona," he said, "what are you doing here?" " Nothing," she answered, straightening up and turning to face him, " only I did not know what else to do, and so came here." She did not disclose the impulse which brought her to this spot, for of that no man, certainly not Winn, should be told. " Well," he continued, with assumed cheerfulness, " I'm glad to have come across you, for I too have been lonesome and trying to walk it off. I've had the blues for a week or more now," he added, feeling that some sort of apology was due her, " and am not myself." " And why ? " she asked interestedly, turning her fathomless eyes upon him ; " are you getting tired of us here, and wanting to go back to the city ? " " No, little girl," he replied, assuming his usual big-brother's tone and address, " I hate the city, as I've told you many times ; but business matters vex A CLOUD OVEB BOOKHAVEH 163 me, and as you may have heard, I've had to lay o£F some of my men." " Yes, I have heard," she answered quietly, her eyes still on him, " nothing happens here that all do not know in a few hours." And Winn, with the burden of dread that like a pall oppressed him just then, wondered how long it would take for all to hear what he or Jess could utter in five words. " Why did you come here, Mona, if you were lone- some ? " he said, anxious to change the subject. " It's the last spot on the island you should visit if lonely." Mona colored slightly; "I always go to some lonely spot when I feel sad," she said, unwilling to admit the real reason for her coming here. " And that is where you are wrong," put in Winn, forcing a laugh and seating himself beside her. " When I am blue I go to Jess or else take a tramp as I did to-day," he added hastily. Mona still watched him furtively and with an in- tuitive feeling that he was concealing something. " I wish I knew how to play the violin," he continued, looking across the harbor to where a dory had just started toward the village, " it must be, as your uncle says, ' a heap o' comfort ' when one is lonesome." 164 KOCKHAVEN m r ' it '4 " It has been to him all his life long," she answered a little sadly, " and is now." "Ai.-! to you as well," he interposed, "it has helped you pass many a long hour, I fancy. Do you know," he continued, anxious to talk about anything except his present mood, " I've thought so many times of that day I first heard you playing in the ' Devil's Oven,' and what a strange place it was to hide yourself in. You arc a queer girl, Mona, and unlike any one I ever knew. I wish I were an artist, I'd like to make a picture of you in that cave." Mona looked pleased. " You would make a picture," he added, smiling at her, " that the whole world would look at with in- terest ; I'd have you holding your violin and looking out over the wide ocean with those sphinx-like eyes of yours, just as if the world and all its follies had no interest for you." " And what is a sphinx ? '' asked Mona. " A woman that no man understands," he answered carelessly. " There are a few such, and they are the only ones who interest men any length of time." "And am I like one of them?" queried the girl. " Oh, no," he answered, " except your eyes, and they are absolutely unreadable. Beyond them you '1 A CLOUD OVER ROOKIIAVEN 165 are as easily understood as a flower that only needs the sun's smiles." It was a bit of his poetic imagery faintly under- stood by Mona. " You must not mind my odd com- parison," he continued, noticing her curious look, " it's only a fancy of mine, and then, you are an odd stick, as they used to say up in the country where I was born." " And so yo>i were not bom in the city," she said with sudden interest. " What Uncle Jess has told me and what you have said has made me hate the city." " I thought you said once you envied the city girls who came here in yaelits," laughed Winn. " I might like to dress as they do," she answered, a little confused, "but not to live where they do." "And what has that to do w'th where I came from," he persisted, " and why are "ou glad I am country-born ? " " Because," she renlied bluntly, " Uncle Jess says country-born people are usually honest and can be trusted." Winn was silent, and as he looked at this simple island girl, so unafFoeted and vnnsome, a new ad- miration came for her. " Give her a chance " he 166 BOCEUATEN Iff If I I ri thought, " and she would hold her own with Ethel Sherman even." " That is true," he said aloud, after a pause, think- ing only of his own business experience, " and the longer I remain here, the less I wish to return to the city. I feel as your worthy uncle does, and for good reasons. With the exception of an aunt, who has made a home for me, the wome- hom I met there were not to be trusted, nor the men either. When I left the old farm I was too young to under- stand people, but now that I do, I often long for the old associates of my boyhood, and if my business here becomes successful, I shall never go back to the city." A look of gladness lit up the girl's face. "I feel vexed over my business," continued Winn, longing to confide his troubles to Mona and looking down into the dark mussel-coated chasm left by the ebbing tide close by where they sat, " but I presume I shall come out all right." Then, as he glanced up at the roofless wall of the old mill just back of them, its window openings show- ing the dark interior, he thought of the girl who, a century ago, bad come there to end her heartache and whose story \7as fresh in his mind. " Come, Mona," he said tenderly, as a sigh escaped him, " it's time we returned to the village, for I am ( A CLOUD OVER ROCKUATEIf 167 going to meeting to-night with you and your mother." And all the long mile of sandy roadway that lay be- tween the mill and Koc'diaven was traversed in almost unbroken silence. Though far apart as yet, they were nearer to one another than ever before. ■:ii I i H CHAPTER XXI THB MOOD OP THE BELLS There were two clmreh bells on Rockhnven, one at each village, and every Sunday evening, year in and out, they called the piously inclined together, always at the same time. That at Northaven sounded the sweeter to Winn, since its pall came over a mile of still water, like an echo to the one in Rockhaven. He had noticed them, one answering the other, many times before, each time to return in thought to the hillside home where he was born and to the same sweet sound that came on Sunday from the village two miles away. It had been to him what seemed long years since he heard them, yet now, this evening, while he waited in the little porch of Mona's home for her and her mother to join him churchward, and this call came sweetly through the still evening air, it carried a new peace to his vexed spirit, and the threatened upset of his mission to Rockhaven faded away. Once more he was a boy again, and for a time without a care. 168 THE MOOD OF THE BELLS 1«9 And when Mona appeared, dressed in a simple white muslin, a white hood of knitted wool half hid- ing the uoiled masses of her jet black iuiir, her eyes filled with tender light, Winn, in spite if his iiiorose- ness and the bitter lessons in love he had learned, felt it a proud privilege to walk beside her. The usual number, mostly womankind, were emerging from the scattered houses along the way to the church, and as Winn and Mona, together with her mother and Mrs. Moore, followed the one pknk walk which led to the church, the last call of the bells came at longer intervals. When the church was reached the lamps had been lighted, but the white headstones, dotting the upward slope just back of it, still showed faintly in the twi- light. The services were simple as usual, the few dozen who gathered all joined in the same hymns of praise their ancestors had sung in the same church. What the minister sa d was not new or eloquent ; and yet the prayer he uttered seemed to Winn to contain an unusually touching strain. It was the mood of the bells still on him, for he had never known what church believers call a change of heart; and while the devotions of the people were pathetic in their very simplicity, they seemed more like a plea for pity than •( . ':^ll m ■iu » 1?0 BOCKHAVEt an expression of thanks. When the serviccg were ended, and all rising joined in " The Sweet By and By," never before had it voiced such a plaintive ap- peal ng it did then in Winn's cHtiinat' m. When ho and Mona, loitering behind the rest, reached her little dooryard where the scent of many blooming flowers saluted him, they paused a moment. Mrs. ;Moore had seated herself on the porch for a so- cial chat with Mrs. Hntton, the faint disk of a now moon showed in the western sky, and in spite of the resolution taken weeks before, Winn cl ild not resist the temptation of longer privacy with his com- panion. " Let us walk up to the top of Norse Hill," he said, "and look out over the harbor. I feel like it to- night." " Here is where I come to be alone," he observed when they had reached the ancient beacon and were looking down over the village. " I wonder who built this odd tower and for what use ; do you know ? " " I have been told it was built by Leif Ericson," she replied, " ever so many years ago, to orove he first discovered this country. TTncle Jess says it wat, and that is why this is called JfoPise Hill." There was a jutting ledge around its base, and they seated themselves upon it. Winn drew out his THE MOOD or THE BilLLS 171 I- * case. "You won't mind my smoking, will J .., .lonn ? " ho aaid in a familiar tone, aa he lightetl his cigar. " Why, no." she answered, in the »: no tone, " I love to see you mjoy yourself." For a time they silently scanned the peaceful pic- ture that lay before them. The sheltered harbor across which the faint path of moonlight quivered ia the undulating ground swell that reached in from the sea ; the old mill sombre and solemn and barely out- lined to the right ; beyond it Northaven with its scat- tered lights, and below them the few that twinkled in Eockhaven. Not a wund reached them except the low wave-wash at the foot of the cliff jist back of where they sat. They were alone witL tieir hopes and troubles, their joys and heartaches. It was not a time or place for im.nediate converse, and Winn quietly contemplated the peaceful scene while Mona covei.ly watched him. To her he was an unsolved enigma, "jnd yet his earnest, honest brown eyes, his open, frank way, 8nd his half-tender, half-cynical speeches had been for many weeks her daily thought Wliat oppressad him now was an added mystery. She had heard that most of his men working in the quarry had been laid off, but not for worlds would she seem so inquisitive as to ask wh; y^ 172 ROCKIIAVEN f' \ V' i M\ ir''i. t And 80 she watched him, hnlf hopinf;, half expect- iiip, ho wouhl confide in her. " I liave iK'en out of sorta, little girl," he said sud- denly, with an intuitive feelinj? that she exjiccted an ex])lanation of his silence; " and as I told you this afternoon I took a long tramp to drive my mood away. It did not do it, hut aonicthing else has, and that was your church l)ell«." " I am very glad," she responded with sudden in- terest, " I wish they would ring every evening." " Yes," he continued, not heeding her delicate sym- pathy, " they have carried uie hack to my boyhood and the country village near where I was born. I wish I could go back to those days and feel as I did then'' he added, a little sadly, " but one can't. Life and its ambitions sweep us on, and youth is forgotten or re- turns only in thought. If one could only feel the keen zest of youth and enj jy small pleasures as chil- dren do, all through life, it would be worth living. I should be grateful if I were as happy and care-free as you are, Mona." " I am not very happy," she answered simply. "Did you think I was?" " You ought to be," he asserted ; " you have noth- ing to worry about unless it is your ambition to be- come £ great artist, and as I have told you, you had TIIX MOOD OF THE UELLM 173 better put that out of your tlioii^li'S. Voii couli. bo, but it would l)rinjt yo\i inon- licnrtiiclu's tli.,ii you can imaginp. Put it nwuy, ^[onn, and live your siuiplo life here. To Htrupple out of your orbit is to court unhappiness. I was tiir\i8t out of mine by death and poverty," lie niKlcd sadly, " wlicn an awkward ind green country boy, knowing alisohitcly nolliinj; of city ways and manners, and placrd anion^ tliiiae who think all who come from the farms ii! i it be but half civilized and stupid. It is the shallc w conceit of city-bred people always and the greatest mistake they nmke. My aunt sent me to a business college, and for a year my life there was a burden. The otb r fellows made game of my clothes, my opinions, a , worse than that, a jest of all the moral ideas in which my good mother had instructed me. Later on, when I began to get out into the world, I found the same disposition to sneer at all that is pure and good in life. The young men I became acquainted with called me a goody-good because I acted according to conscience and refused to drink or gamble. They seemed to take a pride in their ability to pour (lo\vn glass after glass of fiery liquor, and when I asserted that to visit gambling dens and all otlicr resorts of vice was to demean one's self, and positively refused to follow them, they laughed me to scorn. They 174 BOCKHAVBN 1 seemed to take a pride in their vices in a way that was disgusting to me. Then, as if to prove what a stupid greenhorn I was, they pointed out men who stood well socially, attended church, had wives and families, and yet led lives that were a shame and disgrace in my estimation. They proved to me what they asserted in various ways, so I could not doubt it. It was all a revelation, and for a time upset all my ideas and led me to think my early training in the way I should walk a stupid waste of opportunity. " Beyond that, and perhaps the worst of all, I was made to think that religious belief was arrant non- sense and used as a cloak for evil doings ; that none except silly old women and equally silly young girls were sincere in pious professions ; that belief in God was an index to shallowness, and prayer a farce. " It began to seem to me that I really had been brought up wrong and trained in absurd ways, and that unless I threw my moral scruples to the winds, I should be a jest and a laughing-stock to all city people. We grow to feel, and think, and live like those we meet dai , ind when I came here, among you wliose lives and morals were so unlike city folks and so like those of the people among whom I was reared, it seemed as if I had gone back to my boy- hood home. ill THE MOOD OF TU£ BELLS 176 " I think the sound of your church belle, Mona, was an influence more potent than all else to carry my thoughts and feelings home again." He paused a moment to look out seaward and along the broadening path of moonlight as if it led into a new life and a new world, while Mona watched his half-averted face. All this was a revelation to her of his inner self, his nature and impulses. She had thought tenderly of him before ; now he seemed the embodiment of all that was good and true and manly — a hero she must fain worship. " Life is a puzzle-board, dear," he said at last, as if tliat sparkling roadway had been followed into a better one ; " we all strive for happiness in it and know not where or how it may be found. We wish to please oursel'^es first, and to share it with those who seem akin to us. Few really desire to annoy others or give them pain. Then again we are selfish, and our own needs and hungers seem all important. We are a little vain ofttimes, carnal always, unthinking, and seldom generous. We forget that it is more blessed to give than to receive, that a clear conscience is as necessary to happiness as good digestion is to health, and that we cannot walk alone through life. We must depend upon others for about all the happi- ness we receive, and they on us. Then again we had 176 BOCKHAVEW I) : best remain with those we understand and who know US best. They and they only can or will seem near to us. Your bells have carried me back to those with whom I am allied by nature; and among them and in the pure and simple life they live, I feel that peace and contentment may be found. With you it is the same, my dear, and it is to keep you here among those akin to you that I say what I have of the great world. Do not wish to enter it ; do not imagine you will find happiness there, for you cannot Here you are loved and tmderstood, here are those you know and can trust, and here every cliff, and gorge, and grove, every flower, and bird, and ocean voice, contains a childish memory. Were you to leave them behind every call of the church bells at eventide would carry your heart back to these scenes again, as it has mine to those of mv youth. No, dear, be warned in time and remain content." He meant it for her good, but she thought only of a similar bit of advice he had given her once before, and one that wounded her to the heart. For a little longer they sat and watched the moon- light scene ; Winn unconscious that beside him was a girl whose ennobling ambition and sweet, patient na- ture was a prize any man might feel proud to win, THE MOOD OF THE BELLS 177 and Mona quivering with an unaccountable heart- ache ; and then he rose to go. " It is getting lat«, dear," he said in his familiar way, " and we'd best go home. You may catch cold if we stay here longer." And Cupid, hovering on the old stone tower, turned away in sorrow for a wasted opportunity. But Winn held out his hand to assist Mona, and be it said to his credit, he retained hers in a warm clasp until her gate was reached. " Qood night, dear," he said then as he opened it for her to enter, " and sweet dreams." («1 M : I M 'v« CHAPTER XXII TWO BASOALS ' Tk£BE are genial, liberal, and companionable ras- cals and mean, contemptible, sneaking ones. The former attract by their apparent honesty and cordial expressions, and are the more dangerous; the latter repel by every look, act, and word. Of the first class J. Malcolm Weston was a pertinent example, while Carlos B. Hill was of the latter. On " the street " and among his associates Weston was considered a jovial, good-natured man, liberal in small things, a pleasant associate, but lacking in morality and without principle. He paid for one of the best pews in the church Winn's aunt attended, which was always occupied by his wife and family, and by him occasionally; he contributed for chari- table and missionary work in an ostentatious way, always insisting that it be known how much he gave; belonged to a club where gambling was the chief amusement and the members of which .i-e mostly stock brokers, speculators, and fast men about 178 TWO BASOAU ir9 town; he wore the latest and most fashionable raiment, and drove a dashing turnout. Before the firm of Weston & Hill had been established he had been the manager of what is known as a bucket shop, and when that failed (as they always do, soon or late) he began his career as a promoter. In this he was not over-successful, mainly from lack of funds to carry out his schemes; but when the conceited, shallow-minded HiU was induced to walk into his par- lor, Weston began to soar. Hill was a retired man- ufacturer and bigoted church member who had saved a smaU fortune by miserly living, stealing trade marks, copying designs, making cheap imitations of other manufacturers' goods, and cutting prices. He thirsted for fame as a great financier and longed to be a power in the stock market. Weston, whose business arguments usually contained equal parts of religion and possible profit-making, in due proportion to the credulity and piety of his victims, and who could t-me a horse race, play a game of poker, or utter a fervid exhortation with equal facility, easily led Hill into the investment and brokerage business, and ? o the firm was established. This was J. Malcolm Weston. Of Hill, though his counterpart exists, but not in plenty, an explicit description shall be given. He was {;ti i|i.. m\ w 180 BOOKHATEN I- of medium size with a sharp hawklike nose, retreating forehead, deep-set fishy eyes, ears that stood out like small wings, and a handclasp as cold and lifeless as a pump-handle. His sole object of conversation was himself ; he had pinched pennies, denied himself all luxuiies, and lived to be hated, till he gi'ew rich. It was one of his kind of whom the story is told chnt, having died rich (as usual), a stranger passing the church on the day of the funeral asked of the sexton at the door, " What complaint ? " and received the reply, " None whatever ; everybody satisfied." Weston, liberal rascal that he was, was not long in learning to hate his mean-natured partner, and by the time the Rockhaven Granite Company was duly organized and well on toward success, had conceived another and perhaps more excusable swindle (if any swindle is excusable), it being not only to rob the in- vestors in Rockhaven, but Hill as well, and then leave for a foreign clime. But the launching of Rockhaven necessitated outlay. HiU really held the purse- strings, so Weston, the plausible, shrewd schemer, bided his time. But the road to success became difiS- cult. Each successive outlay was whined about and opposed by Hill, who, shallow in his conceit, lacked the courage of his rascality. When Winn was sent to Rockhaven, and money to pay men must follow, and TWO RASCALS 181 each successive item and advertisement in the Mar- ket News (both high-priced) only made him wince the more, it required all of Weston's optimistic argu- ments to keep him from backing out. But when re- turns fro, - the sale of this absolutely worthless stock came in, Hill smiled, and when some thirty thousand shares had been sold and, by reason of Simmons' ma- nipulation, it was quoted on 'change at six dollars per share, his eyes glittered like those of a hungry shark. No thought of the honest and confiding men and women who had contributed to swell the total, and would share in the inevitable loss, came to him. No qualms of conscience, no sense of r lilt, no fear of retri- bution ! only the miser's lust of gain and the swellin-r of his abnormal self-esteem. And so gratified was he in this partial success, and so eager to pocket its re- sults, that, had Weston now proposed dividing receipts and absconding, he would have consented with alacrity. Of those who were to be the dupes of this precious pair a word will now be said. They comprised a varied list, from poorly paid clerks who had caujjht the gambling fever to Winn's aunt who, since she believed in Weston, and being baited on by the decep- tive dividend, had invested almost her entire fortune. There was one cashier in a bank who had " utilized '" about three of the many thousands he had access to. f'i I;. 'I !i ! 'it 182 BOCKHATIN an innocent and vmderpaid stenographer in Weston & Hill's office who persuaded her widowed mother to draw her all from the savings bank and buy Rock- haven, and scores of small investors, trustees for estates; and even sane business men, lured by the early and unexpected dividend and anxious to share in the rapid advance, bought, what they at heart feared was worthless. And so the bubble grew apace, and Weston and iiis henchman, Simmons, in the privacy of their odoes, smiled and congratulated one another, and plotted and planned. They discussed the items to be paid for in the Market News, how long it would be necessary to continue the farce of quarrying ci'ried on by Winn, and how much stock was really being tossed back and forth among the gamblers on 'change, and how much held by honest investors. Of the quarried stone shipped by Winn, enough had been received to build the palatial resi- dence Simmons had under way and some toward an- other and smaller contract, taken at a price below market rates. To these consultations Hill was seldom invited, for the liest of reasons, — he wae in the end to be made the dupe of all. Of this latter and final iniquity not even Simmons was informed. CHAPTER XXIII THE BTABTIRO OF A " COBNEK " TiEEE are always two parties in every stock ex- change, well known as bulls and bears. Those who believe in an advance, or what is to the same end, manipulate a stock to increase its price, are said to be " bulling it " ; while those who honestly think it quoted aV.ve its worth and sell it, or plot to depress its price, are said to " bear it." Like the ever vary- ing hues of the kaleidoscope, so the opinions and actior.a of each individual among those men con- stantly change, and a bull to-day may be a bear to- mon-ow. Then cliques and pools take up one little joker of values, and seek by force of number and capital to toss it up or down. To this end they fill the press with columns of false reports, fictitious statements, and items of apparent news for one pur- pose—to deceive. Wlien the wildcat, Rockhaven, started on its career, the bulls and bears, glad of a fresh toy, began to .oss it back and forth. None be- lieved it of any actual value, but merely one of the 183 184 BOCKIIAVKN many dice in the apeculative box. All united in asserting that it was the avant courier of a achome; it might be pushed up to a fabulous price and it might any day go down with a crash. It was this very certainty of being an uncertuinty — the fact that its future was an open gamble, a positive chance — that made it interesting. None of these astute 8i)cculator8 were deceived by the early dividend, even for one moment; and when Simmons, well known as Weston's mouthpiece, openly bid two dollars for five thousand shares or any part of it, and really ob- tained one hundred, and that the identical hundred originally given a prominent mun for the use of his name, all knew that the fresh toy was on its way toward the roof or the cellar. It may seem strange after the countless schnmes which have come to naught, that any remain who could be inveigled into 8 new one, but as a Tise showman once said, " the world loves to be humbugged," and the early dividend worked its inevitable result among the real investors, while the gamblers' chance stimulated " the street " ; and between the two Rockhaven was pushed upward. And the Market News, as well as other city papers anxious to sell space, helped to swell the bubble until Rockhaven became one of the loaded dice all specu- lators love to play with. It started at two dollars a I If TUB BTABTINO OF A " COKNKB ' 185 Bharo, bid by SimmoM, who tho next day offered three for it and liad two hundred more sold him by a too- confident bear who didn't own a gliarc, and who later on bought it in at a higher price, pocketii^ nig loss with a smile. And so it kept on, now up a point and back a half, then up two and down one, to go back again when wmo nervous bear sought to cover. Some who owned it at the subscription price of one dollar sold, and quadrupled their money, to gee it go still higher, and catching the fever, bought it in again ; while others who were short of it ai. three, bid it in at five, and distrustful of it as ever, went short again, and so the definite stock value in this cage, as in all others, becnme a guess. In the meantime Weston, the spider in his web, and Simmons, his trusty spokesman, watched the mar- ket and weie not idle. They had sold some thirty thousand shares, the Market News kept printing items (at a cost of fifty cents per word), the street was all guessing, and Rockhaven bade fair to become a sen- sation " on 'change." Then a few far-seeing bulls, believing the natural sequence of stock manipulation in this case would end in a " comer," began bidding it up, while Sim- mons, quick to feel the pulse of the situation and really holding the key to it, aided them by spreading 186 •OCXRATSH a report to thai efFeot, and when the prioo ihowed weakneM, buying a few hundred. As moat of " the atreet" assorted that the stock was valueless, hii object was to create a short interest, if possible, and in time so manipulate matters as to scare the shorts, knowing full well what the result would be. The only danger he knew lay in tSe action of Winn liar v and what he might do. If that duped young mai. imted the game and, returning, alarmed his aunt, who Iiad bought ten thousand shares and locked them up, the game would be balked. " We must keep your m^n Hardy on the island all summer," he said to Weston, " and let him quarry stone, at whatevor cost. If ever he hears what Rock- havon is quotod at and isn't a fool, he will hurry back and not only nrload his thousand shares, but toll his aup*, and she will do the same." " I doubt that he will," answered Weston ; " he has fo.v friends in the city, and those are not posted on the market, and as for his aunt, I have assured her that if she hopes to sell out her stock at the top price, she must keep her investment an absolute secret. I gave her the tip ' >n Sunday as we were walking home from church together, and in such a way that I feel sure she will heed it. The good woman is wrapped up in church work and putting the matter in the .' TUB »TA«TINO 0» A " COBNIB ' 187 way I did, and at that time, insures her secrecy. Some people must be handled with religious gloves," he added, smiling urbanely, « and some hit with a club." He thought of Hill in this connection. And in the case of Winn Hardy, he reckoned with- out Jack Nickerson. CHAPTER XXIV THX PBOOBF8S OF A ver saen. And now it seemed endowed with a newer charm. Here he was, hidden away from all the wide world and almost from himself, with Nature at her grandest and the limitless ocean voicing eternity at his feet. For a little time he watched the white-crested billows toss- ing the rockweed and brown kelpie aloft as they swept into the gorge witli a solemn roar. Somehow, just then, it seemed to him as if he and Mona were alone with God, and the world was young, and life all before him. And at this moment he forgot all his troubles, and the price of Rockhaven stock seemed of less account than the ferns he sat upon. " This spot makes a better man of me, Mona," he ▲ SUMMER DAY 19? said at last, " and today it lifts mu into the frame of mind that the church bells always do at eventide. I am not a believer such as you people here arc who join the church. I am only of the world, worldly, em- bittered somewhat by experience and therefore rather distrustful. And yet here it all disappears, and only God seems good to me." Then he paused, looking out on the wide ocean once more while Mona watched him with wistful eyes, wondering what odd speech would fall from his lips next. " I asked you to come here to-day, little girl," he said at last, " to tell you the story of my life and what has made me as I am. You have been kind and tender and patient with my whims, your mother has opened her door to me, your uncle has trusted mo and been my friend, your minister and many others have been kind to me also, and in all ways a welcome to me and my errand here has been extended. And now I will tell my story." And tell it all he did, not even omitting Ethel Sherman. All the years nad been a menial in Weston & Hill's office, his associates the while and their influence, and then this new departure in life with all its hopes and ambitions, to end in a fog of doubt and suspense. When the recital was ended he felt better ; how Mona felt her words can best indicate. %4 1»8 UOCKIIAVEN " I am glad you trust me ao much," she said, " and I wish I could gay a word that would help you. Uncle Jess's advice must be for the best." And then an intuition that all this meant Winn's leaving the island soon brought a shadow over her face. For a little time the two sat in silence, unconscious of the wild romance of the nook or the ceaseless monotone of the ocean just below. " I have worked hard to make this venture a suc- cess," he said at last, in a dejected tone, " ano hoped for much, but now it all seems likely to vanish, and worse than that, the good people here who have bought stock will lose by it and blame me. I can- not tell them how matters stand, or even leave here at present, and yet any day I may hear that the com- pany has dissolved. I've lost all confidence in them now, and to protect myself am forced to act a dishon- orable part and let them send money I do not need. I have a friend to whom I sent our stock, but no word comes from him, and so, little girl, you see why I am so disheaitened." But Mona scarcely understood all he had said — some of it not at all. The matter of stock values and how the present dilemma came about was quite be- yond her. What she did understand was that some grave danger threatened Winn and he must leave the A ICMMBK OAT 199 island. She had, impelled by a sweet girlish impulse, come to the cave early that day, bringing ferns and flowers to deck it and surprise this man whose every word and smile seemed of so much value. She had brought her violin, glad if he cared to hear her plii^' ; she had hoped the little outing, away from all othfra in this trysting place, would be charming to him; and in her girlish heart meant to make it so, and now the little plan had come to naught, and instead she had heard what caused a heartache. Thn .terns were fast wilting and the violin remained in its ease. "Come, dear," said Winn, speaking freely and seeing the cloud on her face, " lot us forget this trouble and enjoy this afternoon. We may not have another one here. Please play for me now." But her muse had fled, and she only turned away to hide the pain in her face. " I will by and by," she said faintly ; " I want to think now." And Winn, conscious of the blow he had dealt her, felt a strange sense of guilt. He had known for many weeks that his every word and look and smile was a joy to her, and while not for one instant had she overstepped the bounds of maidenly reserve, her thoughts were of him. And then as he looked at her soo BOCKIIAVIN ii ,il with face half turned away and lip« tightly cloaed aa if to kcop back the tears, a suddou impulse to gather her close in his a -ms and whis}>er fond and loving words came to hitn. But he put it away, " I wish you would play for me, dear," he said very gently, " and drive away my blues. Play some- thing lively." And the boy god, ever hovering where hearts are tender, sheathed his arrow and flow away. Many times afterward Winn thought of that moment and always with regret. A little longer Mona waited, and then, like an obedient child, drew her violin from its case. Our moods are our masters, and be it untutored girl or world-wiso man or woman, they shadow or brighten all expression. And though Mona played at his bidding one and another of the lively airs she knew, a minor chord of sadness ran through them all. Then, to his surprise, she began one of the late light operas he had sent for and given her weeks before. She did not play it with ease, a halt eame now and then, but she played it all through and then paused. " I am surprised," he said ; " when and how did you learn that ? You told me you could not read a note of music." A SCltMKB DAT SOI "I have been learning to reail," she answered quietly, " and Uncle Jciig has lipli>e » I II Only bears sold to bears, however; for those who held what was out owned it at a lower price, and so long as it kept up they parted with none. It had opened that morning at ten and one-half, by noon rose to twelve and one-quarter, and at the delivery hour of two was firm at fourteen. Simmons had bought a few hundred when it had dropped a half point, just to cheer up the game, and knowing those who sold had none to deliver. A few bulls who owned it at five and six started a story that a comer had been engineered, and predicted that it would go to thirty inside a week. And when the gong sojinded that day, and the mar- ket cloi'.d with Rookhaven at fifteen and one- quarter bid and sixteen asked, a few of the fur-coated liars looked askance at one another and went out and drank liberally to keep their courage up. And that night Weston and Simmons held an- other conference. It was a vital one; for before it closed some ten thousand shares of general securities Weston & Hill either owned or held in trust passed into Slmmons's possession, and when the two conspirators separated, one was richer by nearly two hundred thousand dollars, based on the market price of these securitiej, and the other ON XHANOE 219 gloating over the prospective robbery of his hated partner. But a halt came the next day, for SimmonB bid sixteen for a block of Rockhaven, a few conservative bulls unloaded and the price dropped two points, while the bears took courage. tUi ■I if CHAPTER XXIX THE BUBBLE BISES in p. It was early dawn when Winn stepped from his train and into the ceaseless babel of the city. Market wagons were crowding the streets, the army of workers hurrying in every direction, newsboys shout- ing, humanity elbowing' and pushing, draymen seem- ingly ready to run over him, — and this was his welcome back into the monster hive he had left three months before. What a contrast to Rock- haven ! Then to a hotel, a bath, a barber; and, finally, when he had made himself somewhat more in keeping with the well-groomed if heartless city folk that he must now meet, he secluded himself in a comer of a dining room, where he breakfasted behind a morn- ing paper. He first turned to the stock page, fully expecting to see the name "Rockhaven" staring him in the face ; but he did not. Then his eye ran down the column of quotations until, among the un- listed securities, it rested on " Rockhaven," thirteen aao THX BUBSLS BISES 221 bid and fourteen asked. And strange to say, the thirteen seemed significant ; and now he looked else- where, feeling sure that he would find the Kockhaven Granite's Company's advertisement, but failed. There were others equally alluring, and to his mind equally deceptive,— oil, mining, development, building, and every other sort of scheme confronting him, each promising safe and sure returns and assuring the reader in fervid language that " now is the time to invest" And so eager were these swindlers to catch the unwary, that some offered stock for five cents a share, and non-assessable at that. Never before had Winn realized that schemers could descend to such pitiful methods as to issue, sign, and keep regord of stock at a nickel a share 1 A tirap to catch even newsboys ! Turning in disgust to the column of market gossip, he read the following: " Out of the multiplicity of investment organizations now crowding each other on all sides, a late one, the Rockhaven Granite Com- pany, has forged to the front, its stock having crept up f »om one to fourteen dollars per share. But little is known of this company, and conservative investors believe the unusually rapid advance in its stock solely due to manipulation." In this great human hive and on the pages of this '■* 222 ROOXBAVIN I 1 leading newspaper the million-dollar scheme of Wes- ton & Hill was only entitled to one line in the list of quotations and a five-line news item. And Winn thought himself and his troubles to be of small concern. But his troubles enlarged rapidly when Jack Kickerson came to his room later on. " Well, old man," suid that cheerful sceptic, look- ing Winn over, " you don't seem to have the odor of fish 0/ any barnacles about you. You have had a hair cut, I see ; and now if you will visit a tailor, you will soon be one of us again." " Yes," laughed Winn, sarcastically, " I'm back where clothes make the man and put thieves and honest men on the same footing. But how is Rock- haven coming on ? " " It's not only coming, but it is here, — at least its only honest supporter is," answered Jack. " Where is your old fiddling friend, Hutton ? I ex- pected you would bring him along to look us swindlers over." " No, I left him down at Kockhaven at peace with all the world and philosophizing on human deprav- ity," answered Winn ; " he would be as much out of place here as you would be there." "Well, you'd best send for him, or else all the ,1' I* THK BVBBLE RI8I8 238 Stock you sold on the island," asserted Nickerson, " and do it now. Matters have reached a climax, as I wrote you, and Page wants to ' do ' old Simmons. We have held your stock for that purpose, and we want all we can get besides. The street is all short of it; and when they get scared, as they will soon, and Sim- mons tries to unload on them, we propose to be in the dance. Can't you wire the island t " And Winn, once more in touch with the active life of the city, paused to collect himself. "I might wire Captain Roby," he said, "and rear'' the island to-night. But Roby has bought one hundred of this stock, and if he realized the situation, he'd faint" " Well, let hira," answered Jack, " he'll come to quick enough when he understands his stock is worth fourteen dollars to-day and may not be worth one cent to-morrow. My belief is, if you wired him the price now, he'd point his old boat for the city and shovel coal under the boiler all the way him- self." " He wouldn't do that," replied Winn, " but he'd start for the island at once, and in ten minutes every one would know it." "Well, wire him," said Jack, "and do it now. Tell him to see your philosopher." ' li 224 KOCKHAVair And Winn obeyed. " Now," said Jack, " you are a priioner here in this room until Page says otherwise. If ever Sim- mons or Wp' jn learns you are in the city, it will up- set our plans. When your old barnacle arrives, we'll lock him up also until the crash comes, and then take you both into the exchange and let you see the fun. He will be all the safer anyway. Some one might sell him a gold brick." "Not much," answered Winn, stoutly. "Jess Hutton can't be buncoed. He was keen enough to see through Weston the moment he set foot in his store, while it took me three months to do it." " Well, you're getting you eye teeth cut slowly," laughed Jack, "and in a year or two you'll know sheep from goats. I'm sorry you can't go to call on Ethel Sherman this evening, but you can't. It's just as well, for when she hears you have come out on top of Rockhaven and are worth a few thousand, she'll receive you with more warmth. She is back from the mountains, brown as an autumn leaf and looking out of sight. If I didn't know she was the most heart- less and selfish hyprocite ever clad in petticoats, I'd make love to her myself." And Jack Niekerson, the inveterate s 'offer at all things, took himself a y. THE BCBBLK HISBB 825 That day Rockliaven was bid up to twenty, the short interest more than doubled, and the two arch conspirators, Weston and Siramons, in the privacy of the latter's office that night, held a love feast, nudged each other in the ribs, and laughed and joked while they smokc t| 240 BOOKIUTXN h I it! somewhere. Iwould suggest you go to Rockhaven and ask your ' old fossil fiddler ' to play the ' Rogues' March ' for you." And, having thus relieved his mind, Simmons, turned to his desk, and after a half-hour of careful computation handed Weston a statement and check for one hundred and ten thousand dollars, which rep- resented the net results of the securities Weston had turned over to him, after deducting the actual loss they had made on Rockhaven. For the money re- ceived from the sale of some thirty thousand shares at one dollar each, had. more than been consumed in buying back stock at various prices to affect the mar- ket, in the quarrying operations, in Market News items, and various other outgoes. What Weston did receive after over a "»ir of scheming was less than the original capital ti.h had put intc the firm. Weston had previouoly checked out and pocketed the firm's own bank balance, and now he went the way he had for months planned to go, and that night left the city. And his wife, who had shrewdly insisted that their residence be deeded to her, in case of business re- verses, shed no tears. It was a fitting climax to the life of a J. Malcolm Weston. . L TWO DOOS AND A BONE 241 But there was another episode of equal interest, and that the outcome of Weston's robbery of Hill. And when that has been told, no more shall either of these despicable men taint this narrative. All that day while Rockhaven was first shooting skyward and then downward. Hill sat in his office watching the ticker. He couldn't go on to the floor of the exchange ; he knew Weston was with Simmons ; and so, like a human hyena, he lurked in his own den, waiting for his share of the plunder. And when the tape recorded forty for Rockhaven and then down to nothing in less time than it can be told, Hill was the happiest of men. He knew the plan was for Sim- mons to sell at forty, and supposed that he had done so. And in his greedy joy he began figuring how much his share of the street's robbery would be. No thought of the poor widow, whose child was even then at her work in his outer office, came to him. He knew this confiding woman had, at his suggestion, invested her all in Rockhaven, and that now it had liecn swept away. It mattered not. Neither did he think of Mrs. C!onverse, more especially Weston's dupe, and whose stock, now worthless, was locked in their safe. No thought of young Winn Hardy, their faithful helper, and his loss came. No thought of ■^u ! i 242 ROOKHATKC r.! anybody who had lost by them and must suffer entered his narrow and backward-sloping cranium. He only thought of himself. And his deep-set eyee gleamed with the miser's joy, and his shallow conceit swelled with pride. Now he was a great financier I Now he was a power " on 'change " 1 When the market closed and the now beggared stenographer and other office help had gone home, he still waited. Weston would surely come soon and ac- quaint him with the resultf of their great achiere- ment. But Weston came not And Hill still waited. And as one hour and then another was ticked off by tlw- office clodc, he ceased computing his share of the coming gains, and an intuitive sense that all was not right came to him. He was naturally suspicious, and being a thief at heart himself, quick to suspect others. And now he suspected Weston 1 Little by little his distrust increased as Hill watched the office door and listened to the clock tick. Trifling remarks that Weston had made, half-con- cealed sneers he had let escape, returned to Hill as he watched and waited. I- '• TWO DOOB ASD A BONE 243 Certainly he should come and divide, as any hon- orable thief ought to. But he did not 1 Never before had Weston failed to return at the close of the exchange, where he was usually closeted with Simmons. Why not now ? And so the demon of suspicion grew. When another hour had passed and the daily workers in stores were hurrying homeward, Hill could stand the suspense no longer, and taking his hat almost ran to Simmons's office. As might be expected, it was closed. Then in a frenzy he hurried back to his own office and rang up Weston's home on the telephone. Weston was not there. Then he tried Simmons's home, with the same re- sult. Then he went home. From gloating over the prospective fortime he ex- pected to share, he had in a few hours become almost insane with a dread suspicion. His supper was but half eaten; he wouldn't answer his patient wife's question ; he couldn't read, or think of but one thing, and that the horrible doubt and suspicion consuming him. That night bi« lieep waa filled with fiendish I . f 844 ■ockhatbh dreams, and he saw Weston running away and leering back at him over his shoulder. When morning came, he hurried to his office an hour earlier than usual. Only the office boy was there, sweeping out. Hill went to his desk, where the morning mail was left. But one letter was there, and that from Winn Hardy, dated in the city the night before and enclosing a check for two hundred and thirty dollars, with the information that it belonged to the firm and that he had severed his connection with them. True to his nature, even in despair, Hill put it in his pocket, resolving to say nothing to Weston about it. Then, to kill time till Weston came, he opened the morning paper. On the front page was the star- ing headlines : — THE EOCKHAVEN GRANITE COMPANY GONE TO SMASH THE PRESIDENT, WESTON, SAID TO HAVE SKIPPED «:}' And then cold beads of sweat gathered on the face of Carlos B. Hill ! All the horrible suspicion of the day before was now proven true ! He waited to read no more, but with a groan of despair rushed, hatless, i : TWO DOOS AND A BONE 245 out of the office and ran to that of Simmons. That ieiele of a man was tlioro, calmly reading his mail. " Where is Weston," almost screamed the half-in- sane Hill, " and what docs all this mean ? " " I haven't the least idea where Mr. Weston is," replied Simmons, calmly. " Neither do I care. 'l bala..oed our account with him yesterday at the close of business, at his request, and beyond that have no interest." "But where is he? Tell me quick, for God's sake! " dK)ute,l Hill, now trembling with o.xciteM.ent and fear. 'T must know! Oh, what does this mean ! " " You had better go back to your own office and read the papers," answered the imperturbable Sim- mons, in a tone of disgust. " And when vou go out again, put your hat on. As for Weston, I've done with him, and good riddance. He made a mess of his scheme, an ass of me ' on 'change ' yesterday, and I hope I'll never see him again." And the always cool Simmons turned to his mail. I^othing short of a panic on the street or an earthquake ever disturbed him. " But where is all the money we made yesterday ? " came from Hill, in strident voice. " I want it, and I want it now ! " lei 246 BOCXHATSK It '■ ' i I II. I: And he did want it more than he wanted good name, fame, wife, home, life, health, or Qod, even I " We made no money out of Kockhaven," answered Simmons, too dixgusted even to be polite ; " and I told you onee, I have squared my account with Wes- ton and paid him all I owe him. If that is not enough, I'll sing it to you." And Hill, too agonized to feel an insult even, turned away. Back to the office he ran and read the long account of how Rockhaven had gone up like a rocket and down like a stick. He also read how Sim- mons had, at the criticaj moment, been worsted by Page, and even a description of Jess Hutton, who was present to see the fiasco. For Page, not satisfied with his triumph, had called up a reporter, and it is small wonder that Simmons was thoroughly incensed. There was sarcastic reference to him in the article: Weston was ridiculed, and even Hill did not escape, for this sacrilegious scribe had suggested that he could cool his rage at being baffled by fanning him- self with his own ears. It was a malicious thrust, for the one feature about himself that Hill was ashamed of was his enormous ears. In the midst of this added agony, in walked a clerk from their bank to inform him the account of Weston TWO DOGS AND A BONE 247 & Hill was overdrawn ten thousand dollars, and to make it good inside an hour or legal itroceedings would follow. Then Hill, with a groan, staggered to their safe and opened the till where securities were kept. It was empty I Then ruined, robbed, insulted, and in utter de- spair, he who in all his long life of grasping greed never had had one kindly thought for others, or of their needs, locked himself in his private office. And when, an hwir later, an officer knocked upon the door, denumui^g admittance in the name of the law, a pistol's report was the only answer. And Carlos B. Hill, a cowardly sneak in life, died a coward's deatk But the minister of his church uttered an eulogy over him, for so much had he bought and amply paid for, and a small cortege followed him to his last rest- ing place. And among those few there was not a single sincere mourner. Not even his wife ! \{ CHAPTER XXXII THE AKTEKMATM OF A SWINDLI r; I Out of all the mai. confiding investor!) who were robbed by Weston .'i Hill, only a few ae^-J bo nien- tiono KUCKHAVEN m Ui iiuiit who liad paused to chat with some one, ho I'ncountered in the vestihulc, dressed in faultlciig fall costume, a picture of beauty and good taste, — Ethel Sherman I " Why, Winn," she said, advancing and extend- ing a gloved hand, " I am very glad to see you back again. I've heard all about you and the fame you hi ^'e achieved and how good you have been to vour aunt. I must insist that you call this evening and tell me all about it. I've a bono to pick with you also, you naughty boy, for not answering my letter." And Winn, moved as any man would be by such captivating words uttered by a young goddess in fashionable raiment, forgot all his old-time resent- ment for a moment, and answered as any well-bred and susceptible young man would. " I am very glad to see you, Ethel," he said cor- dially, " and it's nice of you to say such pleasant things. If yon haven't any better amusement for this evening, I will call." And call he did, to find this imperious beauty arrayed in an exquisite evening gown, in his honor, fairly exhaling sweet smiles and graceful words. And with them came back, also, all the old-time charm of her siren voice, her keen wit, her polished sarcasms, her devil-may-care bon camaraderie. 4 WOUAM'h W1I.EH 263 For two years Ethel Sherman had W>n a daily thorn in Winn's side. Ue iiad met her occasionally, when he simply 1m)wc.1 and exchanged tliu civilities of polite society, hut nothing more. Occasionally his aunt, 8 born match-maker, had let fall a wonl of praise for Ethel, the intent of which was pulpul.lo t. Winn, but in spite of wiiieh he had determined to put her out of his thoughts. When her letter reached him on the island, he mentally contrasto her witli Mona and to the former's detriment, more tiian over thinking of her as the type '>f a fashionable young woman sneered at by JS^ickcrson. His illusions re- garding her had all vanished and he saw lier as she was, — a beautiful, heartless, ambitious Circe, con- scious of her power, and enjoying it. And this evening, seated in her daintily furnished parlor, and facing the most exquisite adornment it con- tained, he regarded her as he did the marble copy of the Greek Slave, perched on a pedestal in one comer. But Ethel Sherman was not tiio girl to be long con- sidered marble, whether she was or not; and was just now piqued by Winn's coolly polite indifiFerence. " Well, ray dear friend," she said eagerly, when the first commonplaces had been exchanged, " tell me all about this unheard-of island where you have been buried all summer, and this queer old fellow yoii : 264 ROOKnAVEN brought up in the city, and the barefooted fisher maids you met there, and which one caught your fancy. I've just been dying to hear." " You seem to want an entire chapter of a novel in one breath," answered Winn, smiling. "How did you find out I brought any one to the city ? " "Oh, I am still able to read the papers," she laughed, " and Jack called the other evening. It's all over the city, as well as your firm's collapse and the part you played in it. Oh, you have become famous in a day, as it were, an4 people who have never set eyes on you are talking about you." Winn smiled, for what man could resist such subtile flattery. " I wasn't aware that I was a mark for gossip," he said, " though Weston & Hill must have been, and deservedly. I'm not sorry for Hill, however, for I despised him, but I rather liked Weston, even after I discovered he was a rascal, he was such a jolly, good-natured one." " So Jack says," answered Ethel, " and happily in- different as to whom he ' Vndled. It was first come, first served, with him." " He served Hill the worst dose," said Winn, " and it looks as if Hill were the ultimate object of his plot^ and the rest of us only pawns in his game." A woman's wiles S65 "You at least called 'checkmate' to him," an- swered Ethel, smiling admiration, " but tell me about the island. That is of more interest to me. The city end of this afiair is now ancient history." "Oh, the island is a poem," replied Winn, earnestly, " a spot to forget the world on and learn a new life. Its people are poor, but honest, kind, and truthful; their houses turkey coops, their customs ancient, their religion sincere, their livelihood gained by fishing, and the island a wild spruce-clad ledge of granite with bold sea-washed cliffs and an interior harbor that is a dream of peace, seldom rippled. There is an ancient beacon built by the Norsemen on a hill nine centuries ago, a ravine surpassingly grand with a cave called the Devil's Oven, and an old tide-mill at the head of their harbor, where a lovelorn girl once hanged herself." " A charming spot, truly," said Ethel, " and if I had known all this last July, and there had been a comfortable hotel there, we should have summered on this delightful island in.stead of on the moun- tains." " It would have amused you a week," replied Winn, smiling, « but not longer. There were no golf linki or young dudes to flirt with there." Ethel colored slightly. I 266 BOOKHAVEN M .in " That is the worst of having friends," she said, " they are bound to gossip about one. I don't mind," she added gayly; " I am a flirt and admit it cheer- fully, but what else are men good for ? " " Not much, I admit," answered Winn, sarcasti- cally, " especially if they have money or prospects of it; and if not, they are good to practise on." " Now, Winn, my dear fellow, don't emulate Jack Nickerson," she responded suavely, " the role doesn't become you. You can be an adorable bear, but not a barking puppy." " Jack's not a puppy,'' asserted Winn. " I never said he was," answered Ethel. " He can be worse than that; he can be a gossipy old maid, always sneering, and that is more abominable than a puppy any day. But tell me about the people on the island, and which fisher maid you fell in love with." " Why should you imagine I looked twice at any island maid ? " answered Winn. " Oh, you were bound to," asserted Ethel, laugh- ing. " You wouldn't be the delightful man you are unless you did, so tell me all about her. Did she wear her flaxen hair in a braid and ask from beneath a sunbonnet, ' What are the wild waves saying ? ' while she stood barefoot beside you on the beach ? " A woman's wiles 267 " Oh, yes, and chewed spruce gum at the same time," he responded, also laughing. " Even when you kissed her ? " queried EtheL " It must have lent a delightfully aromatic flavor." Winn made no answer to this pointed sally. In- stead he stroked his moustache musingly, while his thoughts flew back to Rockhaven and Mona. Ethel eyed him keenly. " Quit mooning," she said at last, " and come back to Erin. I do not expect you to admit you kissed this fair fisher maid. It wouldn't be gallant. But you can at least describe her. Is she dark or fair ? " "I haven't the least idea," he said, "she was so sweet and charming; her eyes might have been sea- green for all I can teU." ^ "You evade fairly weU," rejoined his tormentor, 'but not over well. You still need practice. Now tell me about this old feUow Jack described as a ' bar- nacled curiosity.' " "Oh, Jess Hutton," replied Winn, relieved; "he is a curiosity, and of the salt of the earth. If there was any one I fell in love with on the island, it was he." " That was fairly weU done," laughed Ethel ; " you are improving and in time may hope to deceive even me." 268 ROCKirAVEN .'i ( tv ii. ili " Never," responded Winn, sarcastically ; " you are too well skilled in the fine art of dissembling. You almost persuaded me to-day that you were really glad to see me, instead of anxious to find out all about Rockhaven and its fisher maids." " That is unkind," replied Ethel, in a hurt tone, " and you know it. Didn't I write you a nice letter, and have I shown the least resentment at your failure to answer it ? Come now, be nice and like your old dear self, you big bear. I don't care if you did fall in love with an island girl. You certainly would have been stupid not to if there was one worth it, and I r ■aspect you the more for protecting her. Your friend Nickerson wouldn't." And Winn, mollified by this occult flattery, came near admitting — Mona and all the summer's illu- sion — for that was Winn Hardy's way. Only one thing saved her name from passing his lips, — the fact that no answer had come to his letter. He began to feel that none was likely to, and that the summer's idyl was destined to be but a memory like to the sound of \irch bells in his boyhood days. Then, while his thoughts went back to the island and all it contained, he told the story of his sojourn there, of Jess and his fiddle, of the little church and its parson, the quarry and his men, of Mrs. Moore A WOMAN'h WILIS 269 and Captain Eoby and the fishermen who each day sailed away to return at night Only Mona was omitted. And Ethel, listening, became entranced at his re- cital. " Your stay there has done you good," she said, "hen it was ended, '-' and made a broader man of you. You are not the callow boy you were, and the heroism you have shown toward your poor aunt proves it. When she told me, the tears almost came to my eyes; and while I bow to the noble impulse you displayed, it was foolish after all. It would have been wiser to have kept the money in your own hands and taken care of her. She may be led again to make ducks and drakes of her money by another Weston. The world is full of them." " It didn't occur to me then," answered Winn. " I did it on a sudden impulse, and now I think you are right." And be it said parenthetically that this worldly yet sincere assertion of Ethel Sherman elevated her greatlj In Winn's estimation. " Come, Ethel," he said after a pause, " I want to forget all this business; now don't say any more about it. Most likely I acted foolishly — it isn't the first time, and may not be the last. If you want to 270 BOCKHATEN cheer me up, play and sing for me. I've not heard a piano since I left the city." Ethel, glad of the chance so to entertain him, complied. Strange to say the song she selected and rendered, as she well could, with exquisite feeling, was " Robin Adair." Then followed another of the same nationality " I've taken to the old Scotch songs lately," she said, when she turned from the piano, " and they are quite a fad with me now. They have so much more heart and soul in them than modem compositions." " Give me ' Annie Laurie ' now," suggested Winn, a shade on his face. And listening well while the graceful, ring-glittering fingers of Ethel Sherman leaped lightly over the ivory keys, her sweet voice gave new power to the immortal ballad of olden time, while he thought only of one summer day in the cave at Rockhaven and — Mona. When he was taking his leave, and Ethel, uncon- scious of the mood she had evoked, stood beside him in the dimly lighted hall, she held out her hand. Her red, ripe lips were upraised, ,i8 'f in tempta- tion, and her eyes were tender with the spirit of her songs. " I hope you have had a pleasant evening, Winn," she said tenderly, " and will call again soon. I'U A woman's wiles 271 promise not to mention the fisher maid any mrre if you will." And Winn, glancing into the hright eyes that had once lured him to a heartache, hdd her hand a moment and then bade her good night CHAPTER XXXV ^ THE WHEEL OF FOBTCNS Fob weeks Winn lived an aimlegg life without oc- cupation, which to him meant misery. He walked the streets to he jostled hy people in a hurry, and wished that he also was. He looked into shop windows where dummies stood clad in teautiful garments, and won- dered how Mona would look if rohed in such. He met people hurrying home from their work at night and almost envied them. In his club he felt so ill at ease that games, conversation, and even the raillery of Jack Nickerson bored him. He had a pleasant home, whe. a his aunt always thought of his comfort ; he escorted her to church with regularity ; read the daily papers; called on Ethel occasionally, to find her always the same sweet temptation. She neither allured nor repelled, but was always the same piquant and yet sympathetic friend, well poised and sensible, who judged all men and spoke of them as a mixture of nobility and selfish conceit in unequal parts, with the latter predominating. To Winn she sometimes 372 THB WIIBIL OF FOBTCNX 273 talked at though he were still a big boy who needed guidance, and then again as if he were more than mortal and out of place in a bad world. " You are discontented," she said to him one even- ing, " and out of your sphere among the city men. You take right and wrong too seriously and are like an eagle caged with jackdaws. City men are such in the main, thinking more about the cut of their coats, the fit of (heir linen, and color of their ties than of aught else. You are as unlike them as when you came here a big boy with countryisms clinging to you and the scent of new mown hay perfuming your impulses; you were always out of place here, and the three months on that island has made you more so." It was a truthful and yet somewhat flattering por- trayal of Wjun as he really did seem to her, but it only added to his discontent. " What you say may be true enough," he answered, " but what shall I do ? I csn't go into an office again and be content, the taste of being my own master on the island has spoiled me for that. I would go into some business if only I had the capital, but I haven't ; and I wouldn't ask my aunt to loan me any, even under the existing circumstances." " T wish I could advise you," she replied in the i S74 UUCXIIAVKN :1 I sympathetic tone bo easily at her command. " I cer- tainly would if I could. But whatever you do, dou't >ro into the stock gamhling. I re«|>ect you now, and I might not then." The time came when she wished that she had re- frained from that expression. But a different trend of advice came to Winn later from Jack Nickerson. "Why don't you open a bucket shop, my boy," said that cynic, " and make some money ? I'll back you for a few thousand to start, since you were foolish enough to part with all Page made for you out of the Rockhaven flurry, and it's a doad sure thing. Then again you have won quite a little notoriety out of this Weston & Hill fiasco, and men on the street say you have a cool, level head. I iell you, open up one of those joints and let these smart Alecs who want to get rich quick come n. and lose their money. If you keep moping arourd another month you will go daft, or fall in love with Ethel Sherman over aguin, which means the same. I hear you are a fre- quent caller there." " I've got to spend my time somewhere," answered Winn, rather doggedly, " and Ethel's good company." Jack eyed him curiously. " How thtf moth will flutter around the candle," he said. THB WUCXL OV VOBTUM 876 "I'm in no danger there," nMertcd Winn, "bo don't worry. Onoe bit, twice shy; and aa for tlie bucket ghop, I'll have none of it. I'd us goon open a faro bank." " And why not « " queried Jack. " All the w ,d loveg to gamble, and niogt of them do in one way or another. Even the good people who pray can't resiHt grab bags and fish [wnds, imd until a few ultra prudes guessed it was gamblinj;, they were all the rage at church fails. Even now, in society of the best, bridge whist and whist for prizes, afternoon and evening, flourishes on all sides. Oh, it's gamble, my bov, go where you will ; and you might as well take a hand in it and make money." " But a bucket shop is disreputable," replied Winn, " or has that reputation, and on par with gambling dens in fact, though protected by law. Tt is worse than those in one way, for men who go in feel forced to put up margins to save themselves, and in the end go broke. Look at the euibezzleiiicuts that crop out almost daily, and nine out of ten traceable to a bucket shop. The law ought to force them to put up a sign, ' All ye who enter here will lose.' " " You have matured rapidly since you came from the island, my boy," laughed Nickerson, " and now you are fit to do business. Tut your new scruples ]| 9r« locxuAviir ■ I I in your pocket and join the crowd. Only tboM who make money are considered anybody. And how they make it matters little. Make it you must, or walk in this world; and those who walk, aet kicked." ' "^ And Winn, conscious that a bitter truth lurked in his friend's wor.1i., went his way more disconsolate than ever. But the m, iry of Rockhaven was still strong in him, and the tycr of Mona aud the heart-burst that marked their parting an ever present memory. And no answer had yet come to his letter. One evening a little later, when a November storm, half rain, half sleet, made the street miserable, Winn was pushing his way homeward when he saw a girl, poorly clad, a thin summer wrap her only extra gar^ ment, looking wistfully into a store window where tropical fruits temjii-id the passers. He recognized her at one j as the stenographer who had served Wes- ton & Hill. "Why, Mamie," lie said, halting, "how are you and what are yc i doing here in the storm ? " "I wa-i just wishing I could afford a basket of grapes for mother," she answered, smiling at the sight of a friendly face, "but I can't. I've been out of work now since the firm failed, you see." THB WMUI. OK FOnTVNt 27T " I've wondprod wliat Ix-caino of yon," anid Winn, his Bvmpatliy aronsod at onop, " and liow jou were getting on. Wlicro are yon working now f " " Nowhere," glie annwprpd. " IVo been looking for a place for two months and can't find one. Mother gave the firm all hpr money to invest, and it'a gone, and she is very ill. I am completely dis- couraged." Then once more a righteous curse aimed at Weston almost escaped Winn's lips. " I am very sorry for you, Mamie," he said, " and I wish I could help you." " If you juld only find me a place," she replied eagerly, catching at the straw of hope, " I should be so f x'ul. We are very poor now." 1 do what I can for you," he said kindly, " and mayK I can help you. I, too, was left stranded by that thief Weston ; " and without another word he stepped inside the store and, buying a good supply of fruit, joined the girl outside. "I am going home with you, Mamie," he said cheerfully, " and take your mother some grapes. I've an idea of writing up a history of the Weston & HiU swindle, and I want her story." It was the first time he had thought of it, but it served as a ready excuse. Then with one hand and :ii4 m m ¥: 278 BOOKHAVBN arm loaded with bundles, and linking the other around the shivering girl's as if she were a child, the two started toward her home. "We hare had to move," said the girl, as she directed their way toward the poorer quarters of the city, " and I am ashamed to take you to my home. We have only two rooms now." " Oh, you mustn't mind me," answered Winn, briskly. " I am a fellow-sufferer with you now, you know." When her h. \e was reached in a narrow side street and up three fl-'ghts • f stairs at that, poverty and a woman coughing her life away beside the kitchen stove told the tale. Winn noticed that the supper awaiting the girl was of bread, butter, and tea only. " It was very kind of you to come, Mr. Hardy," said the mother, in an almost tearful voice, when he was introduced ; " and if you can find a place for Mamie, it will help us very much." And then she told her story. It need not be repeated — its counterpart may be found by the score in any city where legalized thiev- ing like Weston's scheme ever dupes the credulous, and is as common as the annals of simple drunks. To Winn it was new, for he had no idea his former THE WHSBL OF FOETUHE 279 employer could be so vile as to induce a poor widow to invest her all to meet inevitable loss. And be it said here, that if the world at large could realize how many sharks are ready to prey upon them with the tempting bait of countless schemes, promising sure and rich returns, big interest for their money, guarantees of all kinds (on paper), and flanked by long lists of names, they would look at "farm-mortgage bonds," "gold-mining stocks," " oil stocks," " cumulative gold-bearing bonds," and the whole list of traps set for the unwary, as so many financial perils. And be it said also, that if the securities held as collateral by half the banks could be scrutinized, and the foundations they rested upon understood by all the confiding depositors in these banks, a panic would ensue that would sweep this land of credulity like a tjrphoon. Winn Hardy, who by sheer good luck had saved his aunt's fortune, listening to this poor widow's tearful recital of her woes, gnashed his teeth at the departed J. Malcolm Weston and vowed that he would show him up in the press. When he bade good-by to the girl and her moiher, promising to look out for a place for the fonner, he stopped on his way home at a market and paid I i j1 380 BOOKHAVBir for an ample supply of necessaries to be sent them on the morrow. More than that, he went to Page and, telling the tale, insisted that he give the girl a chance to earn a livelihood. And to no one, not even his aunt, did he tell w:hat he had done. 111 ;( CHAPTER XXXVI oomo, GoiKo, gone! Winn Haedt, a gentle child when the hand of want was stretched out to him, but a Hon in wrath at all iniquity and injustice, was not long in carry- ing out his thought to rite the history of tie Rock- haven Granite Company, and for the so'e purpose of a warning. To do so, came as an excuse to protect the pride of the poor girl who had been his co-worker ; and when it was done, the editor to whom he took it gladly used it and, more than that, praised its writer editorially. Winn, as was his nature, wrote with candor, spar- ing not even himself or the way he was duped, and it is needless to say that his article was widely read. Winn looked for no compensation, but the editor, keen to discover talent, at once offered him f oosi- tion as city news reporter on the paper. Anc j his reward came. It was not over ample, so far as salary goes, but it was at least an occupation — what he just now ner '.ed. Ml I 282 SOCKBATEN One morning, when passing the closed office of Weston & Hill, he saw on the door a notice that, at two o'clock that afternoon, all the office fixtures and o'her assets of this bankrupt firm would be sold at public auction. As Winn stood there that wintry morning, with the hurrying stream of people jostling him as they passed, while he read this business epitaph posted upon the massive doors, what a grim travesty it seemed ! He looked at the two nickel plates flanking them, once kept bright, but now tarnished, upon which the firm's name in bold black letters still stared at him, at the drawn c.urtains where " Investment Securities" in gold still uttered their lie; and gazing at these outward signs of deception and fraud, all the varying changes in his own hopes, plans, and opinions for a six months passed in review. And in fancy he leaped back to Bockhaven. He peeped into the store where quaint Jess Hutton fiddled in lieu of company ; he waa one of the little gathering each Sunday at church there ; he saw the quarry with the men at work, the tiny dooryarJ with Mona watering her flowers, the grand old gorgn where the sea waves leaped in, and the cave once ooiNO, ooiNO, gone! 283 carpeted with feras in his honor, and (most touch- ing of all) the moment he had parted from a timid girl, while the moon, rising out of a boundless ocean, smiled at them. Now, it was a memory of the past, and he, sore at heart, with only a few hundred dollars in the bank, was hunting for news items ct so much a line, and the " so much " a mere pittance. Truly, the whirligig of time had made a toy of him! For full five minutes he stood, with sinking spirits, and then passed on. " I'll b( at this auction," he thought, " and may- be bid in my old oflice chair for a keepsake. Besides, it will make an item." He was there on time and found that a considera- ble crowd had gathered. Most of them were brokers or their clerks who had been in business touch with this defunct firm, and now came to witness its obsequies. Nearly all had been losers in Roekhaven but, as stock gamblers are wont to do, took it good-naturedly and joked one another about being "easy marks" and "good things," and looked at this auction as an excellent object lesson. The auctioneer, quick f» catch the spirit of his H il ' i' 284 ROCKHAVEN audience, saw his opening, and with ready wit ...ude the most of it. The office fittings — chairs, desks, tables, etc. — were put up first, and Winn bought his old chair for fifty cents. Then came the pictures ; and a framed photograph of Weston, holding the reins over a fine pair of horses, brought a quarter ; another of Simmons's steam yacht, a dollar; and then a crayon portrait of Weston, in massive gilt frame, was handed to the auctioneer. " Here we have," he said, " a costly painting of J. Malcolm Weston himself, and how much am I offered? It is, as you observe, an excellent picture of this Napoleon of finance, and certainly cost a hundred dollars. How much for it ? " An offer of thirty cents was heard. " Thirty cents, did I hea ? " he continued, in a dis- gusted tone, " thirty cents for this magnificent por- trait! You can't mean it! Thirty cents for a picture of one who cost some of you many thousands ! Thirty cents ! Ye gods, how have the mighty fallen ! Look at his winning smile, his Websterian brow, his eagle eye that saw Rockhaven afar ! And his whis- kers! And I am offered but thirty cents! Why, gentlemen, the frame cost as many dollars, and think what an awful warning tiiis picture will bo to most of you. Think of the beautiful tales he told, the « (^ oonro, ooiNo, oovvl 28S great industry he started, the money he spent — your money, gentlemen, and I am offered but thirty cents! Why, it's worth a thousand dollars as an object les- son in finance. Come, don't let this master of the stock exchange be sold for thirty cental It's a shame 1 Thirty cents, thirty cents once, thirty cents twice, thirty cents three times, and sold for thirty cents! " And the broker who bought it didn't want it at that The safe, with all the books it contained, was sold next, and then the auctioneer, holding aloft an open deed with its red seal attached said : — " I now offer for sale the only real, tangible asset the great Rockhaven Granite Company ever had, a deed of its quariy on Eockhaven Island. This prop- erty originally cost two thousand dollars, and was the sole basis of this gigantic scheme capitalized at one million ! How much am I offered ? " A wag bid ten cents, another a dollar. Then came a bid of fifty. And then Winn, who up to this time had been a silent spectator of the comedy, felt a sudden intuition that here and now wac his chance. He thought of the island, stiU dear to his memory, of the men to whom his coming had been a godsend, of Jess Hutton who, at parting, had offered hand and heart, and of Mona and the little knot of flowers ;*f S86 BOOKHATSN i« J he had onoe kept fresh in a tiny spring that bubbled out of this same quarry. And thinking thus, he bid one hundred dollars. But the auctioneer knew not of Uie fine sen- timent prompting the offer, and continued his bur- "One hundred dollars," he said, "one hundred offered for this property, cheap at two thousand I What are you thinking of ? " Then, after a pause, while he waited another bid, he continued : " One hundred I'm offered for this splendid piece of real estate, with all its improve- ments; for this matchless qu' .'y of pink granite, once called worth a million! Why, gentlemen, have you gone daft ? Don't you know a good thing when you see it? It wasn't so long ago when I heard some of you eagerly bidding thirty and forty dollars for a single share in this immense property, and now you won't raise a bid of one hundred dollars for its total valuation I Is this business ? Is this finance ? Come, gentlemen, wake up and buy this rich ledge of valuable granite, going for a song ! Think of what it has seemtd to you ; what might again be made out of it ! Think of the thousands of dupes still anxious to buy fairy tales and pay money for them I Think of the money you have lost in this one 1 oomo, ooiNo, ooneI 287 "And I am offered one hundred dollars for it I One hundred once, one hundred twice, one hundred three times, and — sold ! " And that auctioneer, really disgusted this time, stepped down and handed the deed to Winn. Winn wrote a check for that amount, and utterly unconscious of how valuable a purchase he had made, put the deed in his pocket, and left the crowd. In a way, the whole affair had seemed much like a burlesque on a funeral, and he a mourner. When the rest had laughed at the auctioneer's sallies, no smile came to him, and he bid Reeling that he was likely to obtain a white elephant That night, in the solitude of his room, he came near writing a farewell letter to Mona and enclos- ing this deed as a keepsake. Only pride restrained him. CHAPTER XXXVII A SOCIAL CTWIO One evening, a few weeks after the auction, Winn, in his new occupation, was detailed to report one of those affairs in high life where wealth gathered to display its gowns, and fops, in evening dress, utiftred flattering nothings to beauty in undress. A crush of fashionable people who ate, drank, danced, simpered, and smi-ked until the wee small hours and then went home to curry one another's reputation and conduct. Winn, not in the swim, was made duly welcome by virtue of his errand there, and, furnished with a list of the ladies' names and costumes by the hostess (not forgetting her own), was about to depart when he was accosted by Ethel Sherman. He had noticed her first, surrounded by gentle- men, and feeling he might be one too many, kept away. " Why, Winn," she said, coming to his side and smiling graciously as she extended her hand, "I ▲ SOCIAL CTNIC 289 am glad to lee you. How do you happen to be here?" "Business," he answered laconically; " I am a reporter now." " Vcs, I heard so from your aunt. You have not favored me with a call now for weeks," she said, " and you arc a naughty boy to neglect me." "You are looking charming, as usual," he an- swered, glancing at her pxquiaito costume, very decol- lete, and feeling that it was what he must say. " Of courK-!," she replied, ■' every man feels that he must say that, but you needn't. Compliments are like perfume, to be inhaled, not swallowed; so let the rest utter them, and you can spare me. I'd rather know how you are getting on." "Fairly well," he answered coolly, for he had really kept away from her for weeks from a lurking sense of danger to his own feelings. " It is an occu- pation that keeps me busy and makes a living, that is all. It may lead to something better." " I read your splendid expose of Weston & Hill," she continued, still smiling admiration, " and it did my heart good. I wish Weston could see it. And that poor widow whose plight you described — it was pitiful." " Only a sample case of the evil wrought by such 990 ■OOKaAVKM m M Weston," Winn uumred modestly. " I wish I knew where he is; I'd mail him a marked copy of the paper." Then, as some one came up to claim her for a dance, she said hurriedly, " I must leave you noMr, but please promise to call to-morrow evening, I've lota I want to ask you." And Winn, yielding to the magic of her luring eyes, promised and went his way. It was after midnight before he finished his ool- umn account of this aifair, and turning it over to the night editor, left the newspaper o£Bce. The streets were deserted, only now and then some late worker like himself hurrying homeward; and as he pushed on, his footsteps echoed between the brick walls of the narrow street he was following. Somehow their clatter carried his thoughts back to Rockhaven and one night when they had sounded so loud on the plank walk there. When his room was reached he lighted a cigar, and as once before, when he had gone to the tower on Norse Hill to oommune with himself, he fell into a revery. Now, as then, it was to balance in his mind one woman's face and one woman's influence against an- other's. He saw Hona as she was then, as she had been to A MOIAL CTHIC 891 him for monthi, a iweet, gimple, untutored girl, with the eycf of a Madonna and the goul of a laint. Ho «iw her in the cave, once fem-carpcted by her tender thought, and once again heard tlie notea from her violin quivering in that rock-wallcd gorge. And now it was all ended ! Then came this other woman's face and form, a brilliant, aelf-contained, self-poised, cultured exotic, knowing men's weaknesses and keen to reach nnd sway them. A social sun, where the other was but a pale and tender moon. But Winn's heart was still true to Rockhaven, and the ecstatic moment, when he had held Mona close in his arms, still seemed a sacred bond. " I'll never believe it is to end thus," he thought, " until I go there and hear it from her lips." But he kept his promise and called on Ethel the next evening. She had been charming always ; now she waa fasci- nating, for somehow it had come to this conquest- loving woman, that Winn's heart was elsewhere, and that was a spur. Then beyond was a better thought, for the very in- difference that piqued her also awoke respect, and he seemed to her, as she had told him, an eagle among jackdaws. 29S HOCKHAVEN \i^\ " I am glad you have found an occupation," she said, as he once more sat in her parlor, " but I wish It were less menial. You have outgrown servitude since you went to the island. What has wrought the change ? Was it the sea winds ? " " Maybe," answered Winn, " or constantly looking out upon a boundless ocean. That always dwarfs humanity to me. But I have some business to take up my mind. I was sadly discontented until this opening came." " I wish you had kept that money in your own b-nds,» she said confidentially, "and used it to buy an interest in a paper.^ When I read your description of the r«..eption this morning, it seemed to me that was your forte." ^^ "Thanks for your compliment," he answered, and I only wish you edited the paper now. But if you did, my pencil-pushing wouldn't strike you that way." " But it really did," she continued, " and the best of It was what you didn't say, knowing, as I do, how you regard such affairs. Hiding your own opinion so well was fine art." "I wasn't expected to express my views," he as- serted, "but to flatter you all judiciously; that's what makes a paper popular." A SOCIAL CTNIO 293 " And do you think I wanted to be flattered ? " she asked. " Certainly," he replied, " you are a voman." Ethel laughed. " Personally, you are wrong ; in f .i^craX, right. I receive so much of it, it wearies me, k- )viiijr as ^ do how insincere it all is, but most of my sex, I'll admit, feel otherwise. But tell me why you haven't called for three weeks ? " It was a question he could not answer truthfully, and like all the polite world he evaded it. " My work is my excuse," he said ; " and then I've not been in a mood for sociability." Ethel looked at him long and earnestly, reading him, as she read most men, like an open book. " Winn, my dear old friend," she said at last, in the open-your-heart tone so natural to her, " I made you a promise long ago and I shall keep it, so forgive my question. But you needn't fear me. I want to be your friend and feel you are mine, in spite of the old score and this new influence. And when you are ready to trust me, no one in the world shall be more worthy of it." Then they drifted to commonplaces: she, as all women will, relating the gossip of her set and chat- ting of the latest opera, what was on at the theatres 294 BOOKHAVXir lii and the like. Now and then she let faU a word of quiet flattery, or what was more potent, one by in- ference; for Ethel Sherman was past-mistress in that art. And all the while she looked at Winn, smil- ing deference to his opinions and pointing hers about others with a keen wit so natural to her. She played and sang, selecting as once before (and unfortunately, perhaps) the songs that carried his thoughts to Eoekhaven. So charming was she in all this, when she chose, that the evening sped by while Winn was unconscious of its lapse. " I wish you would be more neighborly," she said, when he rose to go ; " there are so few men in my set whom I can speak to as freely as you, and besides I want to watch your progress toward an editorial ohair. Forget your old grudge, and let us be good friends once more." And when he was gone, and she ready to retire she looked long and earnestly at a photograph of him she had scarce glanced at thrice in three years. " I wish he were rich," she sighed; " what a delightful lover he would make ! " CHAPTER XXXVIII THE END OP AN IDTL RocKHAVEN, a c lony by itself, had slowly in- creased from its one family starting-point until more than two hundred called it home. In doing this it had, to a certain extent, sustained the individuality of its progenitor, Captain Carver ; a strictly honest. God-fearing descendant of the Puritans; Baptist in denomination, who regarded work and economy as religious precepts, home building as a law of God, and strict morality and total immersion the only avenues to salvation. Lojt- '.efore the little church was built he gathered the imilies about him each Sunday, while he read 5 sections and then led them in prayer. It was his indomitable religious will, as well as money, that erected the small church, and for years he led services there, praying that the time might come, and population as well, sufficient to induce a regularly ordained minister to officiate instead. It did, for he lived to a ripe old age and the satisfaction of his hopes, and to be buried on the 296 'I II C^.l S9e ? 'I ? BOOKHAVBIT Sloping hilldde back of it. Also to the glory of hav- ing " Founder of Eockhaven" inacribed on his tombstone. He was of Scotch descent, which accounted for a certain latent taste in his great-granddaughter, Mona Button. Though stern as the granite cliffs of the island in his religious connections, regarding works without faith and morality, without con.ic- tion as of little value, the shadow of his mantle in time gave way to a more charitable Christianity. And though the offshoot of his church, the Free Will Baptist of Northaven, was never recognized by the elect of Eockhaven, intermarriages and a mutuality of interests reduced its separation in creed to one in name only. Then, too, the isolation of the island resulted in the growth of the feudal instinct and a tacit k,. ,, .- ship, vested in one man whose opinion and advice was by common consent accepted as law and gospel and to whom all disputes were left for final settle^ ment. Captain Carver had been this authority at the start, others had succeeded him, and when Winn Hardy came to the island Jess Hutton held the 8C«p tre. All this is but history, pertinent merely to sh-,w how it came about that Winn won his way so easily !.. THE EWD OF Alf IDYL 997 and those otherwise hard-headed islanders followed Jess Button's lead without question. Winn won him at the start, and the rest without effort. But a community, like a family, is upset by an unusual event, and the starting: of the quarry, the investment in its stock, and the final return of Jess from the city, to distribute among them sums so out of proportion to their original investments, were like so many stones thrown into a placid mill pond. And had Winn Hardy returned with Jess, or come later, h»8 reception would have been like that of a conquer- in;^ hero. All this formed the sole topic of conversation for weeks, and hearing Winn lauded to the skies as a benefactor, before whom all should bow, had a pecul- iar effect on Mona. She, poor child, having little in common with any other and feeling herself of small account to them or even to her mother, felt her- self still less so as this wave of universal applause for Winn swept over the village. Then another point of pride arose in her mind. While Winn had sought her society often, it was as a next-door neighbor and by force of situation, rather than as a suitor, she felt; and even his visits to the cave with her were due to a romantic taste and his wish to hear her play. All this was, in a way, both right ■Fi ' S98 I I |(: i I I ' BOCKHAYEN and wrong, and yet to Mona, keenly imaginative, it «eemed entirely true. Then, too, her mother had made her feel that her violin playing was no credit; no one else, except Jess, ever expressed a word of in- terest m her one talent, and poor Mona readily felt It more a discredit than otherwise. Winn only had seemed to appreciate it, and to Winn her heart had opened like the petals of a wild rose. For a few days after his departure, she lived in a seventh heaven of tw^et illusions with this one king among men as her ideal - his every word and smile and thought, all that life held for her. And then came his letter which, to her tender heart and M uature, seemed but a cold farewell message. He had no plans, was micertain of his future, and of hers had no concern. This much she read between the lines, and reading thus, her heart was broken her courage crushed. How many tea™ she shed no one knew; how many hours she passed alone in utter misery of mind, no one guessed. For Mona was proud as well as tender, and not even Uncle Jess should know that she suffered. Now the waning summer, the nearing of chill autumn, and desolate ice-bomid winter added to her gloom. Her mother was not a sympathetic com- panion, mates among the other island girls of her THB ElfD OF AW IDTL 909 own aye !he had none; only Uncle Jew, her violin, the cave, the flowers, and the sea. In summer she had company, in winter none, except Jess. And now summer was gone And winter nearing, and poor, timid, tender, friendless Mona was broken- hearted. For only a few days more did she go to the cave, and these visits increased her grieving; it was like visiting the grave of a dead love. When the Novem- ber gales swept the island, Mona was made a prisoner, the store and Jess her only escape. Here she kept her violin, and here she came to brood over her I sorrow and fight her own heartache. And here, be it said, in the company of Jess only did she find any consolation. He had such genial philosophy, such a happy faculty for looking upon the bright side of all troubles, — his own as well as others, — that it made him a well spring of good cheer. He was not long in guessinc- the cause of Mona's despondency, though with his cheerful optimism, feeling sure that in good time all would come out right. He also discovered the new ambition that had come to her that summer, as well as love, and in his own peculiar way set out to solve the problem. And here it must be stated that a girl in love and separated from her heart's choice, having an ambi- 4 300 BOCKHAVKIT t.on to ^ out into the world and earn fame as a ■nnsical artist, was a more complex problem than Jess had previously attempted. Then another factor entero.1 into Mona's troubles; for young David Moore, who for years had cherished an open and loudly voiced admiration for her and between voyages always sought to woo her, now came home and, finding the coast dear, renewed his atten- tions. He was outspoken and assertive, full of enthusi- asm and conceit. He lacked refinement, but he was frugal and o^vned a third interest in his uncle's fish- mg schooner and was very much in love with Mona. Worse than that, her mother secretly favored his suit. It may seem strange that the same practical sense of utility that governed her girlhood's impulses and led her to accept a ready-at-hand love, instead of waiting for an absent one, now shaped her desires toward her daughter. Eomance had no place in Mrs Hutton's nature, neither had love of music. In her calendar, also, one man was as good as another if he behaved himself as well, and a present lover for Mona, if he meant business and could provide a home, was far better than an absent one, even if the entire island cried his praises. i THI END OF AN IDYL 301 So she favored young Moore and, in the many ways a nc her can, gave him opimrtiinities. Bui to Mona, sensitive, lialf heart-broken, and un- able to escape this new infliction, it was inexpressible misery. So the days and weeks went by, and the snow came to whiten Eockhaven ledges, the billows thun.iered unceasingly against them, and the little harbor be- came frozen over. And sometimes, in the hours of bitterest desola- tion, Mona thought of the old tide mill and the girl who had once gone there to end her heart hunger. (\i ill (if 1 fi ! I .'I ! ! r f V CHAPTER XXXIX A OBAT-HAIBBD BOMANCB There had b»Hjn « time in the long ago of Rock- havens history when Jess, then a bashful young man, had jd pretty Letty Carver, now the Widow Button It had started in her school days, when they romped barefoot along the sandy shore of the harbor played about the old tide mMl. whose wheels then rumbled with each ebb and i^o^. ,r gathered shells on the bits of beach between the island cliffs. When the epoch of spelling school and walk home from Thursday evening prayer meetings came, it was i-etty whon: Jess always singled out, and though she now wore shoes, he was not always so fortunate. But the httle bond of feeling was none the less entrancing • and when later Jess sailed away to the Banks on his first iishing trip, he carried a lock of Letty's jet-black ha>r as a token, and her sweet face was ever present m h.s thoughts. When he returned, browned but successful, her welcome seemed to grow in warmth: and after two or three voyages, and he could now af- an A OBAT-BAIBXQ BOMANCK 808 ford a Sunday .uit when he visited her, goaup whia- pertd they were likely to make a match. By this time he had bepm to build the usual air-castlcg of youth, and though his took the shape of a humble dwelling, nestling amid the abutting cliffs in front of which Rockhavex) stood, it was none the lees a palace to him, with Letty to be its future queen. And then the war came on and Jess, partly from patriotism, a little from love of adventure, and more to earn the liberal bounty his country offered, en- listed in the navy. Had he been a trifle less bashful and secured the promise which Letty was then will- ing to give, this history might never have been writ- -. in ; but Jess, a splendid young lellow, in spite of his surroundings, lacked assurance, and all the bond that joined them, when he sailed away, was the hope on his part of what mie-ht be if he ever came back. He did in four jeu. , covered with gloiy, but with a leg maimed by a bit of shell when under Farragut, and before Vicksburg he forgot even Letty amid the inferno of war. In the meantime, his younger brother, Jethro, had discovered Letty, and she, practical as always, was not long in deciding that a suitor with good legs and a cottage already achieved was preferable to a hero with a lame leg and no cottage. I 1 804 ■OOKUAVXK Jew bore hi« di«x,mfiture philowphically, m w«, l«.k, and though deposed to «,e a silver lining back of a„ e „ud« th.. one he thought beat to avoid and •o took hn„«elf away. He re.nained away, a r,^lli„g mo8B, It failed to efface — Letty. new "/J-"" "u"'""'^'' """"" ^"' °°'' ''"y the amart new fishing schooner his brother had just built with h s aid sailed away on her second voyage and never came back, and practical Letty was left a widow with one chihl, a modest home on Rockhaven, and naught eW. As might be. expected, she sent at once L ul^n" '° °°'^ '""^""^ '^^ ^"""^ °f "»« "t- bovwtT, ' • "" *^' ^'"''uWering embers of his ^yhood Illusion or the winsome ways of the child Mona, now four years old, that influenced him no one ever knew, but he at once announced that he 'had decided to abide in Rockhaven for the future and open a .rore. There was one already there, but the another . nd Jess established it. Once more the gos- ttat she would, m suitable time, discard her widow's A OSAT-HAIRKn ROMANCE 305 weeds and become another Mra. Hutton. She did put on more cheerful habiliment» in due time, but remained a widow .till; and though Jogs wa8 n fre- quent caller, usually walking to churfh with her and Mona on Sundays, he continued, as he had started, to live by himself over his store. Neither were the gossip: enlightened as to the fi- nancial standing of the widow, or how much had been laid away by her husband, or her means of a livelihood. Jeas knew, however, and .Tesg only ; but ho was the last person to ii..part such data to a curious public. What they did see was that he nt once assumed a fatherly protectorship over his little niree, and she became his sole charge and care in life. Though she ate and slept at home, tripped alone to school, and to church each Sunday hand in hand with Uncle Jess, his store was her playhouse and his love her happiness until girlhood was reached. Often on suiiuuer days he left the store, uttorlv (!i.=iregarding trade, and with her took long rumbles over the island, hunting gulls' eggs and gathering shells, flowers, or berries. He built her a boat and taught her to row it in the little harbor, talked to her for hours of the great world and its people, of the planet* and their motions, of right and wrong, of religion and God. He aided her in i S; t 806 BOCKHAVEW her lessons, teaching her more and faster than she learned at school; and when her fingers could reach across the strings of his old brown violin, he taught her the lore of its wondrous voice. And so the happy years of her girlhood passed, until now, a woman grown, she had learned the lesson of loving, and had come to him with her unspoken plea for help. Never had she appealed to him in vain, and never would, so long as his keen mind was active and heart normal. For weeks he pondered over this most diiBoult of all problems, and then he acted. "I've got a leetle matter to talk over with yer mother to-night, Hona," he said, " an' if ye don't mind ye might go an' make a caU on one of the neigh- bors. It's a sorter peculiar business 'n' it's better we're 'lone till it's settled." And it was " peculiar," and so much so that Jess talked for one hour with Mrs. Hutton in an absent- minded way, while he studied the cheerful open fire, cogitating, meanwhile, how best to utter what he had to say, while she sat sewing diligently, on the oppo- site side of the sitting-room table." " Letty," he said at last, " her ye noticed Mona hain't been overcheerful the last three months, an' seems to be sorter broodin' over suthin' ? " "I hare, Jess," replied Mrs. Hutton, looking up; A OBAT-HAIRED SOMANCE 307 " and it'a aU due to notions that Mr. Hardy's put into her head 'bout her playin' an' praisin' her so much.^ I've knowed all 'long her wastin' time fiddlin' wouldn't serve no good purpose in the long run." It wasn't an auspicious opening to the subject up- permost in the mind of Jess, but he paid no heed to it. " Letty," he continued calmly, " fiddlin' hain't nothin' to do with the state o' Mona's mind, 'n' if ye'd watched her as clus as I hev, ye'd know it. Do ye 'member when ye was a gal how Hitty Baker, ez used ter live up to the north village, got crossed in love 'n' kept broodin' on't until one day she was missin,' an' 'bout a week arter they found her hangin' in the old mill ? Thar's no tellin' what a gal'll do an' when she'll do it, if she gits to broodin' over sich matters." " I hope you don't think Mona, brought up as she has been, will be such a fool as Hitty Baker was," rejoined Mrs. Hutton, sharply. " Mona's got more sense." " 'Tain't a matter o' sense," Jess retorted quickly, "it's a matter o' nater 'n' 'magination, 'n' the more o' them peculiarities a gal's got, the more onsartin she is apt to be, 'n' ez I said, Mona ain't herself these days, 'n' unless suthin's done to chcnge the current o' ^m livl m 308 BOCKIIAVEW :; ■ : ■} her mind, fust thing you'U knd, some day, she's a misain'." "That's all your notion, Jess," answered Mrs. Hutton, now more aroused than she was willing to admit; "an' if Mona'd listen to Dave Moore, as I want her to, he'd soon cure such whims." "Did yer mother ever make ye take catnip tea when ye was a gal, Letty," responded Jess, laconi- cally, " an' how did ye injie the dose ? " Then, not waiting for an answer, he continued, " Dave's catnip tea to Mona, 'n' I tell ye it's better ye quit dosin' her with Dave, 'n' purty poon, too. She's nobody to go to but me, an' I know how she feels, 'n' I don't think ye do." " Have you any better medicine t» advise ? " came the query, as Mrs. Hutton laid aside her sewing and looked at Jess. " I hev," replied Jess, firmly, " only it'll take both on us to give it, 'n' that's what I come here for, Letty. Ye know how I feel 'bout Mona, an' one o' these days she'll come into all I've laid by. But that's no savin' grace jist now." " An' what'U savin' grace jist now be, I'd like to know," queried the mother. " Ain't helping me and having company when she likes, all that's needful to take up her mind ? She's wWmsical, an' that young A OSAT-HAIBED EOMANCE 309 feller Hardy's put notions into her head she'd be bet- ter off without." Jess was making scant progress toward his ulti- mate object, and realized it — also that sentiment was a matter quite beyond Mrs. Hutton's ken. " Letty," he said at last, almost in desperation, " I've stood by ye 'n' Mona purty middlin' well fer quite a spell now, hain't I ? an' ye'll 'low I kin see a hole in a grinstun if thar is one, 'n' what I've sot my mind on doin' for Mona'll be the best fer her in the long run, an' that is, we take her away from here 'n' give her a chance in the world." Mrs. Hutton looked at him in amazement, realiz- ing not at all what he had in mind. " How can we do that ? " she questioned. " Thar's only one way," he answered hastily, with a now-or-never determination ; " I know I'm gittin' 'long in years 'n' one o' my legs ain't workin' well, an' the only thing ye kin bank on, Letty, is my heart's in the right place 'n' my feelin's toward ye hain't changed a mite in forty year, an' — an' if ye're willin' to chance it, Letty, I'll do all I kin to make ye happy." A woman is seldom surprised by a proposal, but Mrs. Hutton was. For fifteen years now, since she had been a widow, Jess had seemed like a good \f m H Ml 810 BOCKHAVXN brother, which in truth he had been in aU ways, and never once had she surmised he cared for a nearer kinship. Then, as she looked at him, his kindly face aglow with earnest feeling, his keen eyes beneath their shaggy eyebrows questioning her, for one in- stant her heart quivered. Then backward over the flight of time her memory leaped, until she saw her- self a laughing, care-free girl once more, with life opening before her, and this same good friend and brother, grateful for her every word and smile of favor. Then, too, came a little nagging of conscience at the way she had ipiored him on his return, a limp- ing hero, and ..w he had never once reproached her for It. And f, IJowing that, the heaping of coals upon her head when he, coming to her rescue in the hour of poverty and bereavement, had been the only friend she had to lean upon. AU the years of his tender thought and care, all his wise counsel, aU his unselfish givmg, all his countless deeds of love and forethought came back now in an instant, like a mighty wave of feeling, sweeping all her pride and will before it And as she bowed her face, covering her eyes with one hand to hide the tears she could not control, once more he spoke. " ^"J''" ^« 8»'d, "ye needn't mind answerin' jist now. Think on't, an' to-morrow or next day tell me. A OBAT-HAIBEO BOMANCB 311 Thar ain't no need o' hurry. I've waited quite a spell now, an' a day or two more won't matter." " It's absurd," she said at last, when the tide of feeling ebbed, " and everybody will say so." '"Tain't their funeral or weddin' either, is it!" he answered. "An' mark my words, Letty, thar's more on 'em here ez'U wish us well than ye think." But when he came to go she said, " Why didn't you ask me forty years ago, Jess ? " " 'Cause I was a durned fool 'n' dassent," he an- swered, " but I've outgrowed it now." II 'in 11 it i If CHAPTER XL A OOOD SXITD-OFF Out of the many weddings inevitably occurring on Rockhaven but few ever attained to the impor- tance of a trip to the mainland. The sense of utility among them, the need of every dollar toward home furmshing, and t^e practical side of life always uppermost in the minds of all left no place for sen- timent and honeymoon. But when it became known, as it soon did, that the youthful romance of Jess Hutton and Letty Carver had finally culminated, and that the universal opinion and expectation of what they would do when Jess returned to the island was about to be realized a wave of enthusiasm and friendly interest swept over Rockhaven. And, furthermore, when it was learned that Jess was to sell his store to Captain Doty, and that he and his bride and Mona were to spend a few months in the city, the excitement knew no bounds, and when Sunday came and the three, now conspicuous ones, SIS A GOOD SEKD-OFI' 313 walked to church as usual, it was to receive an ova- tion of good wishes and congratulations, and so persistent were all in good will that, when church was out, the entire congregation crowded around them. To Mona it came as the surprise of her life, and went far to change the current of her thoughts and make her forget her own troubles. " I can call you papa now, can't I, Uncle Jess ? " she had said, when he had told her; and hugging him like a child she had thus made his heart glad. It all seemed as a matter of course to young and old alike, and as the days went by it began to dawn on Jess that he had not only been a " durned fool " forty years ago, but continued to be one for the past fifteen. It had been decided by them to have a quiet wed- ding at home, and the day set barely long enough ahead to give Mrs. Doty, the dressmaker, time to do her part; but Kockhaven, hearing of it, objected, and the next Sunday evening a committee, headed by Captain Hoby, invaded the privacy of Mrs. Hut- ton's home. " We hev cum," said the jolly master of the island steamer, addressing Jess in particular, and Mrs. Hutton and Mona in general, " to convey the good r\ {■ t » I:, n :H In ii 1, 814 liOOXRATIV ff n wiBhes o' everybody here to yon folk, aa' wk ye to hev yer weddin' in church «> ter give „a Jl chance to show our good wiU and how much we think o ye by be,„' pre«,„t. It .i, the nniv.rsal feelin' We, he co„t,„„ed, waving hi« arm, as if to include the entire .sland, "that ye both desarve it, an' we «n t gom' to 'low ye two ter jin git hitched an' feel the best's none too good fer ye both, and we hev come to ask ye to let us all jine in and gin ye no "f T, " f "'"^"«- I -ght as well Si, ^e now, Jess," he added, looking at that worthy, "L aU fee fer all yer good deeds toward young and old b!L t?:i'"'^* "°''^"' '"'"* ''^ '^^y'' '"" -e back to be one on us, up till last summer when ye saved us our money on that stock bizness. We don't bkme the young feller neither, and if ever Le cums back, we'U all jine in givin' him a welcome as well But now we absolutely insist we be 'lowed to start ye^_fa:r, and in style, in the new step ye two air And "start them fair" they did; for although 4e snow lay thick on the granite ledges of iJk- haven when the day came, and cheerless winter reigned, there was no lack of cheer in aU that was I! A oooo rairo-OFF SIS Bald and done. First, a hundred pairs of willing hands transformed the church into a bower of green, and since flowers were not to be had, wreaths of spruce twigs, tied with white ribbon and ropes of ground pine, were used. Then an arch of green, wound with strips of white silk, was erected over the gate, and the walk up to the church was carpeted with spruce boaghs. The only pleasure vehicle on the island, an ancient carryall, also decked with green and white, was pressed with service to con- vey the honored couple and Mona to church, now heated to suffocation and packed solid with the island population, while some unable to get in waited out- side. Then, while the Kev. Jason Bush was uniting the happy pair, a dozen young men, unable to curb their enthusiasm, unhitched the horse from the carryall, and when they came out drew them back to the house. And then, after the two hours of reception and hand-shaking had expired, full fifty men were in line to draw that unique chariot to the boat. " It is a wonder ye didn't set out to take us on yer backs," asserted Jess to the crowd on the wharf, when he alighted ; " but all this fuss has warmed our feel- ings toward ye all more'n words'U tell." And when three times three cheers had echoed b" 1 II SM BOCXHAVXir ■ I back from the now dewrted quarry the l.VI ♦ uispersed, for weekg after the gol« »/%«■•„ = r^r^•r•■*^-"- Bleet, looked likeT '• """"^ ^^I' ""^^n ebh«I ^ ^ ^^"'''' monument; the tides ebbed m and out the half-iced over harbor fhl beat with sullen «,ar into the g^ ^ ha „o""" if A OOOD KBNO-OFV 317 discuss fish and fishing; also whether his all-win- ter's absence was likely to result in the opening of the quarry or not. Then, too, in this new. bureau, .Vinn Hardy and Mona came in for a share of gossip, and many a sumiiso as to their future was ex- changed. For they had been noticed many times together, and Mona's visit to the city might mean much. No one had any data as to Jess Button's future intentions or whether Hardy was likely to return ; and yet, so well did ho stand with them, and so hopeful were they that he would once more open the quarry when spring came, that they readily be- lieved it would come about. Of the Rockhaven Granite Company collapse they knew not, for daily papers never reached the island, and Jess for reasons of his own kept silent. The only unhappy one, however, was David Moore • and he recited his woes in characteristic fashion to all who would listen. He had little idea of the prward everybody and > '.ything, and hardened her, in a way. i'hen Frite, with his little scheme, witered iMto I I i\ ■ !' I'll 1:1 1 lit 8S0 BooxHAvnr her education, and one day, after he bad asked her to play some of her best selections, a stranger stepped out from an inner roam to be introduced to her as the manager of the Alhambra Theatre. " My friend Geisling has told me about you. Miss Hutton," he said, " and I wished to hear you play as you naturally would, so I asked to be kept in hiding to hear you. Yon have a decided talent, and if you have the courage, I think you could do a musical turn and do it welL If you will come to the Alham- bra to-morrow at ten with my friend here, we will give you • reheargial." And Mona felt as if she were at that moment fac- ing an audience I "I have an ambition to play weU, and some day in public," she said faintly, and hardly realiz- ing how it all came about, " but not yet Oh, no, I wouldn't dare," and she looked helplessly at her teacher. " Ah, Mees Hutton, but you viU," he said excit- edly, " und your fader said you vill, und dat eet vas to be you broveshion, und you vill to blease me try, I dinks," and he placed one hand upon his heart and bowed low. "Oh, not yet, no I no!" exclaimed Mona, her heart sinking, as she stood face to face with her iS ■ TH« ROAD TO Tit* TEMPLB 881 " I Bin not ready yet and longed-for opportunity, haven't the courage." " That 18 but a mere trifle, Miw Hutton," an- swered the manager, looking at her saintlike eyes, her sweet face, rounded shoulders, and swelling bosom; and onlculating their commercial value for stage purposes to a nicety. "A mere trifle; you have the face and form, you play with exceeding grace and delicate expression, no doubt due to your native talent, and are sure to please. All you need is to forget that you are playing to an audience, and you will win a storm of hands." Then, like a shrewd man of business, he began po- litely to question her. Where she came from, who taught her first, and how she came to wish to play in public? In ten minutes he had grasped her entire history. " It is not necessary," he said finally, to reassure her, " that you make your first appearance at once. Come to the theatre to-morrow and look us over. I feel sure you will succeed and win for yourself a great name. And, by the way, I'd like a photograph of you in evening dress cut low." Then, as if the matter were all settled, and this new attraction for his vaudeville stage already en- g«ged, he bowed himself out ■1^1 I i y i ■li 889 BOOKHATlIf And Frit* beamed. "Ein grand chance, Mee. Hutton, an' der great luck you haf, „„d it va. mein alretty yet," ho aaid, und you vill got dc poople craxy ,nit your blayin', und 1 vag your teacher ! " And he came near then and there going down on bu knees and declaring his passion. When ilona reached her hon>e she was flushed and trembling with excitement. " Oh, f,ther,» she said to Jess, " they want me to play at the theatre, and to come to-morrow to trpr it with no one there; and he wants my picture, and I am scared half to death" which incoherent speech can easily be excused. "I don't approve on't an' never have," said her mother, severely. « It ain't a girl's place to be fid- dhn an fore i^ople at that. I don't believe in it." Now, Letty," answered Jess, pleasantly, "don't ^ to disoouragin' the gal first gOH,£F. We've threshed that «traw all over long 'g„, '„' don't say no more. The time 11 cum, 'n' soon, too, when yo'll feel mighty proud of Mona. We'll fix ye up, girlie," he added, addressing her, " with one of them low-cut gowns - not too low, but jist nice 'n' modestlike, - 'n' we'll both o' us be thar to take keer on ye an' fetch flowers home fer ye." And that subject was disposed of But Mona scarce closed her eyes in sleep that THl BOAD TO TUB TBMPU! 333 night, «„d when, with Je«s and her teacher to earo for hor, .he entered the staRc door of the Alha.nl.rn at teu the next day, a new world opened before her It. entrance waa a tangle of painted «oe„ery, bean- tiful on one aide, dirty and tobaeoo-aaincd on th, other. A dozen stage carpenters and helpers were ..t work with hats on, and never even looked at Vr The stage seemed a cold, cheerless bam, as Uv^c as the seating part, and a chaos of stage proporUe. of all sorts and shapes. A flat, painted tree Lau., against a piano, on top of which was a wooden ...k- A roll of carpet lay across a desk, and a coil of dirtv rope and an imitation fireplace were on top of an elegant sofa. Then the manager appeared, coatless, but with hat on. " Ah, good morning. Miss Hutton," he said not even noticing Fritz or her uncle; "glad to see you though it's a little early. Wk around and make yourself at home, or I'll show you to a dressing room. We will hear you play presently." And glad to escape from the cheerless spot, Mona signified that she would wait his bidding in a private room. It was a half-hour ere he appeared, and Mona'a stage training began. V ■a ■; .if m ill I m t\' II 3 334 BOCKHAVEN She was iMtrnoted how to step out from the wings, where to halt on the stage, how to bow, to atep aid^ wise and backward ; and when these lessons had been learned, the manager with a few friends and Jess and her teacher took seats in front, and she walked out once more with her violin. She had expected to be badly scared, but it was all so matternof-fact, and her deportment considered as of more importance than her playing, that wher it came to that it was the easiest of all. Twice she played the two selections Fritz had de- cided upon, the first, a medley of Scotch aire, and for an encore, the gem of all she knew — " Annie Lau- rie." When she concluded each time, a sincere ripple of applause from the group of men composing her «,! ii- ence encouraged her. " She'U win 'em," asserted the manager, tersely when Mona had retired, " if only she can go on onc^ and not wilt" " I want you to come here daily for a week," be said to Mona, when she was ready to leave, " and get used to this matter. Tour playing is excellent, and if you can forget the audience for ten minutes and do as well, you are made I " But warmer encouragement came from Jess when home was reached that day. THE BOAD TO THE TEMPLE 386 " I'm proud o' ye, girlie," he aaid, his face glowing and his eyes alight, " I'm proud o' ye, 'n' if ye'll fiddle as ye kin 'n' hold yer head 'fore 'em, I'U shed tears o' joy. We'll rig ye up," he continued, " right away, an' all ye need to do is jist to say to yerself, ' I kin do it,' an' feel it, an' ye will." How easy to say, but alas, how hard to do I For a week Mona lived in a trance with only one thought, and that of the awful moment when she must perforce stand alone before that hydra-headed monster — an audience. Sometimes her heart failed for a moment, and it seemed she could never do it ; then a strain of the in- domitable will that had come down to her from her Carver ancestors arose, and she said to herself, " I will." ^^ Then back of that lay another point of pride. Perhaps he will be there to see me," she thought For all these months, while she had silently fought her own heartache, Winn Hardy's face and words had been ever present All the covert flatterie, he had spoken in the cave, all the praises of her playing, the description of the wonderful woman before whom the worid bowed, the tender words of love he had uttered, to end with one cold letter of di«nissal, and she left to rise above and »' J ? * I > fc \ •I ' 386 BOCKHATEI7 1 1 .' 11! conquer her own pain alone and unaided, came back now. It was well that they did. And when the supreme moment of her trial came, and robed in spotless white, without an ornament, save her matchless eyes, her perfect throat, her rounded arms, she stepped into view of that audience, not for one instant did she falter. The Alhambra was filled that evening with its usual gathering in search of pleasure. A few hun- dred bias! men and women who had seen everything on the boards of the regular theatres now drifted into this, hoping for a new sensation. Twice as many more store girls who«e escorts had brought them there because admission was cheap, and a medley of all sorts, old and young. The saucy balladist in short skirts had sung her song, the soloist in black had picked off his banjo act, the acrobats had leaped and twisted and turned, the magician pulled a stock of worsted balls, a hoopskirt, and a rabbit out of a silk hat borrowed from the audience, and then, after frying an egg in it, returned it unharmed ; and the usual vaudeville program was nearing its end when those listless people saw Motia step out from the wings and, without once lifting her eyes to them, bow slightly, and raising her violin, begin playing. THE EOAD TO THE TEMPLB 387 And even as Winn'a heart had been touched by the wonderful sweetness of htr simple niusie that day in the cave, so were theirs reached now. It was not classic, or new, or unheard before — just a medley of old-time Scotch airs that carried the mirth of a merry dance and the mood of tender love. But the mirth and the mood were there, thrilling, quivering, wliispcring, even as a human voice would speak. And when the yearning of that medley ended its final appeal, and Mona for the first time raised her eyes to them as she bowed, a storm of applause that fairly shook the building greeted her. Again and again was it repeated, until, bending her queenlike head, she once more raised her violin. And now came " Annie Laurie." Slowly caressing her violin with her face, even as a mother would her babe, Mona played. And every whispered heartache, every pulse of undying love that that old, old song contains, came forth to reach and thrill the hearts of that audience as naught else could. When it was ended and Mona bowed low, what a storm camel Men rose and cheered and women, too, while they brushed the tears away. J' ■■f! 338 BOOKHAVKir Again and again did tiiat wave of stamping and voiced applause arise, till the very roof quivered, and still once again. And Mona, the poor child, whose will, atrcmger than love, had ciuried her throng that awful ordeal without a break, now out of sight, lay sobbing in the arms of Jess. She had won her fame without a flaw, and then, womanlike, had collapsed. m^ CHAPTER XLIII ;l THl CTWIc'b 8HAIX>W The doubt and dktrust of all humanity, first im- planted in Winn Hardy's mind by his friend and adviser, Nickerson, was now working its inevitable injury. Much of it had been brushed away during Winn's association with the simple and honest people of Kockhaven and especially Jess; but now that he was back again in the city and iu touch with its pushing, selfish life, once more cynicism rulei think of others first and yourself last, and then you have scruples. Now scruples don't go herj in the city, and whoever eultivates thorn gets left. In the first place, Weston & Hill played you for a dupe, and if T hadn't come to the rescue, you'd have been stranded on the island and out five hundred, and i % THE CYNIC « MHADOW 841 the natives would have been ready to ride you on a rail. Then when we saved your bacon and you knew they were two thieves, you even returned them the little extra money they had sent yon to pay the men. I won't say anything about the heroic way you made your aunt's loss good. It was heroic, but it wasn't sense. " Now, after all this eye-openinjr experience, and you on your uppers, so to speak, I offered to start you in a lawful business, you won't have it, simply be- cause it dmacks of gamblinf; ! Wi .n, yo>i are one of the beat fellows in the world, and I like you, but you are a fool — net ! " " Well, I'll keep on beinjt one." amnrered Winn warmly (for no man enjoys plain tnith), "before I'll open a bucket shop and knowingly rob people." "Yes, and walk while the rest ride," asserted Jack, tersely, " you know the old deacon's advice to his son just starting ont in life, — ' Make money, my son, honestly if you can, but make it ! ' " " All very good," replied Winn, " but old. I doubt whether you can change my fool ideas, if you talk till doomsday; but you may mellow them. And that reminds me of another fool thing I've done. I bought the sole right, title, and deed of the Tfock- haven Qranite Company's quarry a few weeks ago." u y i If 342 aOCKHATKf "Thewi»e»t bny yon ever made, my boy," aMwered Jack, quickly ; " and now if you wiU kuMte around and get gome men to put money into a mw company, you will be in hick once more." TWi, ai another idea came to this quick-witted num of the world, be added, " What's the matter with Jeas Button and all the money we made for him ? " But Winn was lilent. while a tick of memory swept over his feeling*. • nd in it wm Mona, with her tender love, and Jem, «rith the heart utd hand be offered at parting, and all the good p««ple on the island wh week ahead. He aim recalled that a plenitude of choioett flowen had always graced her parlor lately. "And why not," he aniwered oooUy; "old Sim- moM it a widower worth a million, has juat built an elegant new residence of the granite we quarried, and Ethel's in the market I think aho shows good sense — at least your kind of good sense. Jack." "Yea, and of all experienced people," asserted Nickerson, defiantly. " 8»;atiment is a fine thing in books or on the stage, it may infiuonco silly girls or callow boys, but it's out of date in this age." And Winn, recalling his own early episode with Ethel, and the lesson in life that for weeks had been forced upon him, was more than half inclined to be- lieve hia friend to be right And yet, as he thought of this prospective January and May affair, and a fossil like Simmons, with dyed hair, false teeth, and certainly sixty years wrinkling his face, he felt disgusted with Ethel. And the more he thought of the groove he was in, of the cold, selfish, grasping city life where mammon was king and sentiment a jest, the more his heart turned to Rookhaven. Then the thought of Monii came back to him, and a yearning for her, impossible to reaist And with it, self-reproach that he had let I 'I IH' I I Hll * n 844 •OCXHAVKir his own discouragement control his actions so long. A few days more did he waver, and then his heart's impulse won. The winter had nearly passed and the days were lengthening when this impulse came, but he waited no longer. " I'm going to Rockhavcn," ho said to his aunt that night, " and shall be gone a few days. I've obtained a week's leave of absence from the paper, and start to-morrow. I want to see Jess Hutton and some of my old friends there. I've also an idea that possibly the quarry can be started again. If I can bring it about," he added, after a pause, " how would you feel about loaning me a few thousand dollars, auntie ? " Then the motherly side of Mrs. Converse spoke out. " I'll do it gladly, Winn," she responded. " I've felt all along that the money you saved me was more yours than mine, and you shall have all of it that you need." And when Winn left the city, as once before, a new courage and new hopes tinged his horizon. And first and foremost in them was the flowerlike face and soulful eyes of Mons. The wisest of us, however, are but mere bats in this world, blindly flying hither and thither. At TIU OTHIo'g SHADOW 846 time* one may, by ghcer good luck, fly free ; and then •gain we strike our heads against a wall. Yet we think we are very wise. And 10, Winn Hardy, full of hope and love, found, when he rr:\ched the coast town where the steamer Rockhaven mado landing, that her trips were but twice a week now mid he had a full day to wait. How slowly it passed while ho chafed at the delay ! how his eagerness to be with Mona grew! how his longing increased as he counted the hours he must waitl and with all mingled a self-reproach, need noi be specified. For it had dawned upon Winn that his conclusions regarding Mona might have l)een wrong, and once we feel that we have made a mistake, we soon feel sure that it must be so. And Winn was now certain. But he would and could repair it easily. All that was necessary was to assure Mona that he had I)een discouraged or he would have written again, and to reproach her gently for neglecting to answer his letter. How easily we plan excuses for our own conduct, and how like a child's toy we are apt to consider a woman's heart! When, after a day's wait that seemed a week to Winn, the Rockhaven made landing, he leai>ed aboard MICROCOfY DESOIUTION TiST CHAUT (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 3) _^ /APPLIED IIVHGE In S^ '653 East Main Street ^.S Rochesler, New York 14609 USA ^S f 6) *82 - 0300 - Phone ^K (716) 288- 5989 - Fo. 346 BOCEHAVIN to grwp Captain Eoby's hand almost as he would a fathers. But a half gale was blowing outside, the captain nervously anxious to unload, and start back- imd only a word of greeting did Winn receive until Jhe steamer was well under way toward Rockhaven Then, feeling privileged, he entered the little pilot house. "Well, Captain Eoby," he said, "how are you and how's the island ? " " Oh, it's thar yit," answered that bronze-faced skipper, shifting the wheel a point and heading sea- card, " an' likely to stay thar. It seems sorter nat'rel to see ye, Mr. Hardy," he added cheerfully, " an' I'm right glad to git the chance. We've been wonderin' what become o' ye an' how the quarryin' business was comin out. Ye ain't thinkin' o' startin' it up agin air ye?" "P "g'n, "Possibly," answered Winn, "in fact, that is a part of my errand here, and to make you all a visit. The old company failed, as, I presume, you know, and I ve bought the quarry myself now." "I'm mighty glad on't," replied the captain cor- dial y, an' so'll all on us be. We've sorter took to ye, Mr. Hardy." "And how is my old friend, Jess?" asked Winn, unable to withhold that query longer. THE CTNlc's SHABOW 347 "and Mrs.Hutton and her daughter and Mrs Moore ? " " Wal, Jess an' the Widder Button took a notion to git hitched long 'fore Christmas," answered the captain slowly, « an' they're gone to the city 'n' taken Mona with 'em. We gin 'em a great send-off, and I run ashore jist a purpose for 'em. It's curus ye haint seen Jess up thar. I'd a-s'posed ye would." Winn's heart sank. " When do you go back, captain ? " he said finally trying to hide his bitter disappointment. "I sup^ posed you made daily trips as usual." ^^ "Only Tuesdays and Fridays," he answered; thar ain't much need o' runnin' oftener." And this was Friday ! And Winn, the now ardent Romeo, had three full days and four nights to spend on Rockhaven, and Juliet was not there 1 There are many of the fair sex who wiU say that it served him right. And what a picture of cheerless desolation was this sea-girt island when Winn neared itl A half gale was blowing, the wares leaping high against the snow-topped cliffs, and as the Rochhaven, rolling pitching, and half coated with frozen spray, turned into the little harbor and neared her dock, only 'Is :H i 348 BOCKHAVKN one man, shivering in oil skins, was there to meet her. " I wish ye'd put up with me," said Captain Roby to Winn, when the steamer's plank was shoved out. " We'd be more'n glad to hev ye, an'll make ye wel- come." And Winn, dreading the empty white cottage next to Mrs. Moore's fully as much as that excellent wom- an's curiosity, accepted the captain's offer. That evening, in spite of Winn's disappointment, was a pleasant one to him, for the news of his arrival had flown like the wind, and a constant stream of callers came to the captain's house. It seemed as if all Rockhaven was desirous of extending a welcome hand, and from Parson Bush down to men whose names Winn had never known, they kept coming. Nevev before had he been so lionized or made to feel that ho had so many friends, and so cordially did they one and all greet him that, had the Rev. Bush suggested that they all join in a hymn of thankful- ness, Winn would not have been more surprised. It recalled the parting words of Jess, and in a forcible way. But alas ! that genial philosopher was absent ! Winn, however, saw his opening, and with a little natural pride, stated that he now owned the quarry. THE CTlflc's SHADOW 849 and, if some capital could be furnished ty these island people, he was in a position to put in a matter of five or ten thousand dollars, and the industry •would be started anew. Then as a climax to this proposition, he read to them the history of the Rock- haven Granite Company and gave a description of the auction of its assets. But he did not mention the price he had paid for the quarry. It was midnight ere the crowd dispersed and Winn, proud and happy, was shown to his room. But the next day a reaction came; for when he called upon Mrs. Moore, as he felt he must, the closed white cottage next door and the little dooryard, now under snow, where Mona had reared her flowers, seemed likp a tomb. His worthy landlady was overjoyed to see him, however, a"d gave an explicit account of the wedding that I.. . occurred, of Mrs. Button's dress, how pretty Mona looke<' and how happy all were. She, too, supposed Winn must have heard of it, and marvelled greatly that the Hutton family could have been in the city now three months, and Winn not meet them. Where they were stopping, what doing, and when they were to return, she knew not. So Winn left her, as much in the dark as ever. And then, though the snow lay thick on the ledges 3S0 BOCKHATEN swept by the ocean's winds, like a love-lorn swain he must visit Norse Hill and go over to the gorge to peer into ite interior, and the cave, then back to the old tide mill and to the village. When Sunday came he was really glad to attend church, and by evening was so disconso' - that he wished for wings to fly to the mainland. In spite of cordiality, Eockhaven was now a desolate spot. And when Tuesday came and he sailed away, the sole passenger over the misty ocean with Captain Roby, Winn was ai wiser and sadder man. When he reached the city he felt that if he could but find Mona, to kneel at her feet and beg for her love would be a blessed privilege. CHAPTER XLIV ONLY A HOOD When Winn reached ho-ne, he found two mee- sages awaiting him, one from Ethel Sherman ask- ing him to call, and another bidding him journey to the home of his boyhood and attend to a business matter at once. His birthplace, an almost worthless hillside farm, had been leased to strangers, but they had scarce obtained a living and, finally, having de- nuded it of about everything except the stones and the old weather-beaten farmhouse, had deserted it, leaving three years' taxes unpaid. And Winn, the sole heir, was now asked to come and pay them, or aUow his boyhood home to be sold for that purpose. This, following the bitter disappointment of hig Rookhaven trip, seemed the last straw; and when he called upon Ethel, as perforce he felt he must, he WES in an unenviable frame of mind. But she was sweetness personified. "Why, Winn, my dear friend," she said, "what 861 'il 362 BOCKIIATEN have I done to you that you should desert me so ? It's been three weeks since I've set eyes upon you ex- cept at church, and then you would not look at me." " I don't imagine that you have suffered much," replied Winn, savagely, looking at an immense bunch of American Beauty roses on the cenf re-table, and thinking of Simmons. " I am a workor in the hive these days, and ' sassiety ' isn't for me." Ethel looked at him and laughed. " My dear boy," she said sweetly, " you ought to send your temper to the laundry and feel grateful I wanted to see you. I refused an invitation to the opera this eve just to have a visit with you, and you come cross as two sticks." " I'm sorry," he answered, " but I have troubles of my own, and life isn't all a picnic. For instance, IVe got to take a two-hundred-mile ride into the country to-morrow, pay up the taxes, and find a tenant for the old farm. I've just returned from a business trip, away five days, and the editor told me this afternoon if I wanted more time off now I'd better resign." " He's a brute," said Ethel. " No, he's a businc> , man," replied Winn, " and I'm his servant, that is all. I don't intend to be much longer, or any man's for that m' tter." ONLY A MOOD 868 I m so glad," she asserted, in the oooir^, sympa- thettc tone a woman knows so well how to use- you are capable of better thing., Winn, and i «hall^ welcome the da, when ,ou are your own Then Winn, his vexed spirit soothed by this woman s gentle sympathy, his self-respect restored by her praise, looked at her admiringly " Ethel " he said, "you can mark the two extremes of wom- ankind -angel or devil -with equal facility. If ever I attempt a novel, you shall be the heroine " Better not," she laughed. " IVe no sentiment, and a heroine without a heart would be a flat failure. No, she continued musingly, " IVe not even a little one I used to think I had, but I've outgrown it. hentiment on a woman's part these days is a weak- ness for men to trample upon. Sister Grace had sentiment Now she lives in four rooms and tends baby, while hubby escapes to the club. No, thanks. iNo sentiment in mine, please." " I begin to think it's folly on either siae," asserted Winn soberly, "and especially in business. Jack says be good and you'll be lonesome,' and calls me a fool for being honest. You say I am out of my groove here and that a woman with a heart is a stupid. I am inclined to think that there is no such 3S4 BOOKUAVIN thing as truth, honor, and sentiment except among oiv. fogies and children." " There isn'' and there is," -esponded Ethel, philo- sophically; " no one is all bad, or at least but few are, while not many are all good. Only, in matters of the heart, a woman who has one is bound to suffer, unless she meets and weds a young god, and gods are scarce in this day and generation." " But is she likely to be the happier by marrying for money and f •^sition ? " queried Winn, pointedly. " To ti.e best of my observation — yes," she an- swered, understanding perfectly well what he meant. " And it's to obtain your opinion on that very sub- ject I asked you to call." Winn looked at her long and fixedly. Once he had thought this girl the incarnation of all that was lovely and lovable. Young, handsome, and yet not of the Dresden china order, but warm, passionate, full of life and good spirits. She was all that now, but hard-hearted, cool-headed, a diamond among her sex, but not a pansy. And so far as he could iudge, one who would seek and accept only a golden setting. Once he had loved her madly, now he enjoyed her keen wit, her veiled flatteries, her perfect poise, her polished sarcasm, realizing that she was likely to be an ornament to ONLY A MOOS 8SS the man who won her, but never a heart companion. And now he adu.ired t.r intensely, but loved her not at all. "Winn," she saio at last, snuling, " have you ana- lyzed ,ne Huffioicmly to answer „.y ,,„,Hion now? " " No," he replied evasively, " and I never can. I ve earned one thing, and learned it well, and that i«, Its folly to tell a woman truth in such matters. lUey prefer lies that are flattering." " Men ne.or do, I suppose," she said, with a tinge of sareasra. " Oh, yes, they do," he admitted candidly; « men positively thirst for flattery -especially from a woman. But it is safer to tell them the truth. Thev wiU ,n time forgive that, even if it hurts, but a woman never will." "Thai'- a man's estimhte," she asserted, "not a woman's. My belief is, truth is an unsafe knife to use in either case. But you have not answered my question." •' "It's hard to do that," he responded, "for it all depends upon what a woman', id.a of happiness i. lou, who assert that you are wi.hout heart and b^ .eve sentiment a folh^ would be miserable, if mated to a poor man, be he never so faithful in love You want luxuries, fine gowns, and plenty of them, since SS6 BOCKIIAVBlr .•.'.: H you Imvo l)oaiity ; you move in a circle where show ia ri'lipioti and pxtrnvajfiinci- a ncccsgity. To you and your anwH-intpB, tlieso wants have Ix'come habits and rule you all." Ethel 8igh"d. " Wo are a hollow set, I'll admit," she said, " and leave the price tag on all we give away; but still you do not answer my (|ue8tion." " No, and no man or woman can," ho responded. " As they say on the street, ' it's a gamble either way.' If you marry for love and secure a cottage, you will sigh for a mansion. If you obtain the mansion and miss the love, you will sigh for tlie cottage." Then looking at the vase of roses standing near, as if they exhaled a revelation, he added slowly, " You will be true to your surroundings, Ethel, and whoever buys you will pay your price." She flushed slightly. " You put it into unvarnisnf . words," she an- swered, laughing to conceal the hurt, "but I can't complain. I asked you for the truth." Then, in self-defence, she added, a little sadly, " It's not my fault, Winn, that I am for sale; it's the fault of society and its dictum. I say at times, as I said to- night, that sentiment Is folly; and then again comes a yearning for something sweeter, something better "Nt.Y A MOOD ;J5- t»ian this life of mIiow and kI,«" ,«• ,,l,„it,„l^K. o.-rn- «ioimlIy I f,.ol it ...: u mi ako, n.i.l ...ivy Gnu-.-. I.u», mimin.T, wl„.» I «•»« np i„ tl... „ t.ii.i.-, w,. ,v,mt driving ono ,lay nn.i h1,>|,,„.,| at « f»nnli„iiHo to l,uv a k1«8h of M.ilk. Tl,,. l,o„8o wu« u l>ov,.l al.no,t ; two littlo cl.iKlr..n l,Hr..f,„,tt.,l and 1. Mvlu,,d..d played „„- der a tree, and inside a wotrun, was HinKinR. When she bro.iRht U8 tl... niiik, HJie, too, was l.arefoot. We passed that way later, on o„r return, and «i.e was 8t.ll singing at l,or .rk. And, in spite of her sur- roundings, there was something i„ her voice that awoke n.y envy. Her lif,. was povertv i.ersonificd; there wasn't another house in siglt, and yet she was happy." And Winn, wondering what .his all meant an.l marvelling that this imperative beantv, this len.ler of fashion, cou.ted, flattered, and sought hv all, uld have one such touch of human feeling, looked • her in utter astonishment. " Ethel," he said, " almost am I persuaded that you have a heart." " You had better not," she answered, with a laugh that was a sneer, "you might pity me, and then I should despise myself; " and, pulling out one of ti.e roses that drooped toward the table, she slowly picked it to pieces. I' f i: 858 BOOKHATBN " Life is but a succession of moods, Winn," she continued, after a pause; "and some contain the rustle of angels' wings and some the clicking of devils' teeth. At times I hate the whole world and envy the nuns I meet in the street, and then again I think them fools." Then she arose and seated herself at the piano. For a full ten minutes she lightly touched the keys, now a few chords of dreamy waltz music, then a low, plaintive love song, and finally a bit of Sousa, while Winn quietly studied her. Suddenly she turned. "Winn," she said, looking him full in the face, " I am going to be very rude. Tell me what made you go to Rockhaven ? " His eyes fell. " To see Jess Hutton," he answered, " and the quarry. I bought it at the auction a month ago." It was fairly well said, but not over well " Thanks," she replied, " and forgive my query. There is no need of repeating it." And it was weeks after before it dawned on him yhat she wished to find out CHAPTER XLV THE OLD HOUE These was nothing that could depress Winn just now any more than to visit his boyhood homo. It had been twelve years since he left the hillside farm, and to return to it, even for a few days and on the errand that called him, was melancholy in the ex- treme. Then his trip to Rockhaven had not helped his feelings. He had gone there expecting to find Mona, and believing that a few vorda of explanation would set matters right. He had even planned what to say and how to say it, and in the fulness of his faith in himself and her, believed that she would easily overlook what he now knew was a cruel neglect on his part. Just why he had let his own discourage- ment nile him so long and in such a way, he could not now understand. And the more he thought of it and saw his own conduct as it was, the worse it seemed. Perhaps she had never received the letter! Perhaps also she had written, and it had failed to reach him. And when he recalled the parting, and that all her 8C9 a i\ 860 BOOKHAVSn' I . ! I happiness and life, almost, seemed to rest on his promise to return, he almost cursed his own stupidity. Verily, a pearl of great price had been cast at his feet, and he had been too witless to pick it up. And now she was here in the city, and had been for months. And other men might be looking into her winsome eyes, and whispering of lovel And with these self-reproaches and jealous sur- mises for company, Winn sped onward toward his boyhood home. It was dark ere a slow-moving stage landed him at the village tavern and a cheerless supper. And the next day's visit to the spot 1 The only redeeming feature seemed to be that it was warm and the sun shone — one of those first spring days that come the last of March, and with it the early-arriving bluebirds. They were there when Winn reached the now deserted farmhouse, where a snow-drift still lingered against its northern side and patches of the same winter pall draped each stone wall. The brook which crossed the meadow in front was a brimming torrent; the barn shed across the road was filled with a confusion of worn-out vehicles, broken and rusted farming tools half buried in snow, a drift of which remained in the empty bam, the door of which had fallen to earth; the fences had u Ml THX OLD HOIOE 361 great gaps in them; gates were missing; and ruin and desolation were visible on all sides. The house that had once been "Home, Sweet Home," to Winn was the most lugubrious blotch of all. It had grown brown and moss-covered with time and the elements, missing window-panes were re- placed with rags, bushes choked the dooryard, and, as he peered into what had once been the " best room," snow lay on the floor and strips of paper hung from the walls. How small the house seemed to what it once had ! The old well-sweep had been used to patch the garden fence, the woodshed roof had fallen in, and a silence that seemed to crawl out of that eld ruin brooded over it. This was his boyhood home, and on it lay the bur- den of three years' taxes and a mortgage ! And as Winn looked into windows and then en- tered, crossing floors gingerly, lest they give way and pitch him into the cellar, he felt that it would be a mercy to the world to set the old rookery on fire and remove it from human sight. The solitary note of joy about it was a bluebird piping away in the near-by orchard, and for that bird's presence there, Winn felt grateful. Then he wandered over the orchard, searching for " i !? )\ 869 BOCKHATUr the tre* that had borne seek-no-further apples, and another where he had once met a colony of angry hang-legs while climbing to rob a bird's nest. He failed to reach the nest, but those vicious wasps reached him easily enough, and as Winn recalled the incident he smiled — the first time that day. For two hours he roamed about the farm, now hunting for the tree where he had shot his first squirrel, and then the thicket in which he had once kept a box-trap set for rabbits. He followed the brook up to the gorge, sauntered through the chestnut grove and back M where a group of sugar maples and a sap house stood, thankful that the familiar rocks yet remained and that the trees had not been cut away, and for the bluebirds, chirping a welcome. Then he left the scenes of his boyhood days, so happy in memory, and as he drove away, turned for a last look at the old brown house, feeling much as one does after visiting an ancient graveyard where ancestors lie buried. He had a week's lekve of absence from his duties, now ahead of him, and he went oousining. He a^ o hunted up a few old schoolmates, putting himself in touch with their rustic lives and talking over school days. Then he returned to the '>'*7, feeling that luck had THX OLD BOia 363 dealt unfairly by him and that he was more out of place than ever. And now began a period in Winn's life which he never afterward recalled without a chiU of dread. To no one did he confide his feelings, for no one, he felt, could understand them. It was not exactly a love-lorn fit of despondency, and yet it was, for Mona was ever present in his thoughts. He avoided Jack Nickerson, bating to list«n to his inevitable sneering, and kept away from Ethel Sherman. He hunted for news items, as duty called him, visiting the stock exchange, the theatre, the court rooms, and the morgue. And while he looked for news, recording simple drunks and their penalties, suicides and their names and history, and the advent of theatrical stars with equal indifference, he scanned the crowded streets and aU public places, ever on the watch for one fair face. Often he would stand on a corner for an hour, watching the passing throng, and then at a theatre entrance until all had departed. And though he was one of that busy throng of pushing people, a spectator of careless, laughing humanity crowding into and out of playhouses, he was not of them. In- stead was he a disappointed, discouraged man, whose ambitions had come to naught and whose hopes were in shadow. He was moody and silent at home 4 :| ,• It' 'I 364 ROCKnAVEN and aimless at his work, and as the days went by with never one glimpse of the face he now longed to .see more than all else in the world, he grew utterly hopeless. How many times had he lived over those summer days on Rockhaven, how often fancied himself in the cave listening to the artless words and simple music of that child of natu- and how he cursed his own stupidity and lack of appreciation, need not be specified. With him, as with us all, the blessings that had been his seemed td brighten and grow dearer as they took flight. And of Mona or her whereabouts, not one word or hint had reached him. \i CHAPTER XLVI A NEW HTAB To that city, surfeited with pleasure, a new sen- sation had come, and while Winn Hardy was aim- lessly gathering news items, too disconsolate to read the amusement notes even, and caring not at all whp.t happened in stage-land, it was slowly spreading A httle ripple at first, when the few who could appre- ciate the exquisite nature of Mona's simple music heard her to go ,.,/ay charmed and come again, the while telling all whom they knew of it, until the " Al- hambra " was packed each night and " Mile Moiia m Scotch Melodies," as the sign that flanked either side of the stage read, was all the rage. Then the papers picked it up and the musical critics exhausted their vocabularies about her. They extolled her pose, expression, and inflection; they went into raptures over technique, time, ar.d timbre; they lauded her classic profile, her arm, her throat, her eyes; while Mona, unmindful of all their clatter forgot herself each night as she threw her very heart and soul into her playing. 8(U 806 BOCKHATXN |i< •I And Fritz grew mad with lovel She practised still, hours each day on new and classic music ; ho insisted that she should, and when some soulless sonata, some delirious composition full of leaps and quivers and trills was learned, she exe- cuted it at night. But it was the simple and sweet old songs of Bon- nie Scotland that won applause. And when, as happened almost nightly, some ad- mirer gave a basket or bouquet of costly flowers to an usher to be passed up over the footlights to her, they were usually tied with tartan ribbon. And the little Qerman teacher had almost lost his reason. Twice he had been on his knees before her, and with hand on heart and in broken English, disclosed his love for " Mein Fraulein Liebohen." But Mona only shook her head. He wept, he raved, he smote his breast, and would have kissed the shoes she wore, if she would have but stood still and allowed it. There were others who sent her notes tucked in baskets of flowers, they begged for an interview, for just one word of reply. They covered pages with wild declarations of love, they sent her costly jewels tied to love missives, in the vain hope of an answei, i! A NIW 8TAB 867 and gathered at the stage door to see her paw in and out. But Jess, like an old watch dog, was always on gua.d. He went with her to the " Alhambra " each night and waited until she had " done her turn," and after she had changed her garb, helped her into'a carriage and rode home with her. He well might care for her, for each week the manager paid for her " act " what would have been regarded on Rockhaven as a small fortune, and con- sidered it cheap at that price. And Mona, growing accustomed now to the sea of faces she had once feared, watched them covertly each evening, hoping and yet dreading to catch sight of a certain one among them. It was all a new wonder world, a strange, sweet intoxication, and like a dream to her. She rejoiced in her power, conscious, as well she might be, how she could sway the thousands to wild applause and some to tears. And when it was all over and she away from the scene of her triumph each time, she wondered if he had made one in that audi .nee. And what would he say and think, if he was ? And what would he do? Had he quite forgotten the simple child who amused him one summer, or would he seek her out? And when she thought of how like a silly girl she 808 BOOZHATXir I I, , i 'I'- ll ' ; I had raised her lips to him at the moment of part- ing, and the tears she had shed, her face burned. Then piide came forth, and she felt that, if he ever did seek her again, lie would have to beg for- giveness on his knees, protesting even as Fritz had, before she would extend a hand even. For Mona was growing proud and conscious of her own power ai this time. The weeks during which she had nightly reigned as a queen over thousands, the storms of applause she had hoard when bowing and smiling before them, and all the flatteries of flowers snd words that had been showered upon her, had wrought its inevitable "haage. Only to Uncle Jess was 3he the same. And he? Well, never in his life had so much happiness come as now. He seemed to grow younger each day, for in the new joy that had come to Mona he found his own. Then, too, a change came to Mona'a mother. No longer did she consider " fiddlin' a man's busi- ness," and frown at her child. In their temporary home that daughter ruled supreme, her every wish gratified, her every whim considered just right. " We'll go back 'n' visit the island fer a spell," Jess said, when the season at the " Alhambra " was Bearing its close ; " an' then we'll take ye 'round, 11 A I»«W STAB 860 girlie, an' let ye «* the worM. I kin -ford it now, n the beat ia none too good ler ye." But the current of Fate twiat. and tuma ua at will, while adown the atream of life we float, and «on,.,>mea we drift into amooth watera and apain we are daahed againat the rocka. With our will or agamat our will, no matter, we are awept on. And a Power quite beyond our ken ia ever in control. And one evening, deapondent, aimlesa, and feelinc hfe a hoj^lea, fight and Fate againat him, Winn Hj rdy drifted into the " Alhambra." No knowledge of the atar that nightly blazed there had reached him, and if he had read of her, it waa aa of othera who wer« noticed by the preaa and unknown to him. He came in, aa he entered otiier theatrea on a reporter's pass, privileged to take a seat if not' oc- cupied or else stand. In thia case, it seemed the latter for the houae waa packed and a fringe of men circled the foyer. The boxea were also filled; and as Winn glanced across to them, there in one, dresaed m evening gown, her arms and ahouldera bare, and slowly fanning heraelf, aat Ethel Sherman. And with her — Simmons I It was nothing to Winn, of course, and yet it awoke disgust. '' 870 ■OOXHAVn The usual vaudeville acta were on in turn, and Winn, gomewhat weary with life, and watching one particular box more than the »Utge, waa about to leave when suddpnly a wild burst of applauie swept over the house, and there, just tripping on to the stage, bowing and smiling as she came was — Mona I Fir one instant his heart stopped beating. Great Heavens, could it be possible, or was this some inf ?ne dream 1 He gasped for breath. The house seeitaod to twist and turn. And then, as he leaned against a pillar to steady himself, a hush came. And what a picture stood before him I Not the half-developed, ill-clad girl who haa »t with him in the cave! Not the timid hild w, H wondering eyes, looking up to him as a superior be- ing I Not the gentle Mona, the sweet flower, awaiting his hand. Oh, no ! Instead, a proud and beautiiul woman, erect and smiling, with conscious power. A stately creature with rounded arms, dimpled throat, and perfect shoulders like marble, emerging from the soft white silk that trailed upon the stage. And in the crowning coils of hair, black as night, a single pink rosebud, half open, and in her hanr' the same old brown violin I !' ! saw STAB 371 Then bowing to right .nd left, u .he .wept that VMt audience with her eve., while the .torm -^t applauie continued, .he raiwd it to her chin Not . breath, not a whi.per now, a. the n,.tchle« voice of her mu.ic rippled forth, tinkling like tiny bell, on a mountain .ide, murmuring like a brook in fore.t .t.llne«..weet a. a bird .inging in the .unlight. And when .he had held that vast throng .pdlbound, entranced, breathlew, until the la.t exquisite note had vibrated ,n their heart,, and bowed arain once more, a tornado of sound burst forth. While thev cheered and .houted, adown each aisle ushers hurried «ith costly flowers and wreaths, and baskets and bunche. of them were tossed upon the stage like so many leave.. Then Winn saw Ethel Sherman rise in her box f^d throw the great bunch of orchids she had hold into the pile at Mona's feet. And then that queen in white raised her violin once more. And once again, as many times before, the old love song that ha. thrilled the world for centuries and the tw.hght hour when its voice of undying love had mingled with the ocean requiem. .i* ^T *". °°'' *° *" '^' """^ P'""* ""d that spellbound audience; lost to the bn«t of applause ii( 'i. ■H Hi l! 872 BOOKHATEN that again shook the very building, to the men who cheered, the women who wept. Lost to all and every- thing except his own heartache. And as he brushed his eyes free from the inist that had gathered, and turned away, it was in utter de- spondency and humiliation, believing his love hope- less now, and forgiveness from Mona impossible. The next morning, reading the double-leaded head- lie !8 announcing the farewell appearance of this peerless queen of nielody and the columns of fulsome praise that followed, only increased that feeling. Her laurels had been won, her crown secured, and now his love would be a worthless toy in her esti- mation. All that was left pas to see her, if he could, and beg her forgiveness. But even this was denied him. " I'm a friend of Miss Hutton's," he said to the " Alhambra " manager early that day, " and I wish to obtain her address." " I've no doubt of it," replied the man, in a sneer- ing tone ; " lots of her admirers have wanted it, and kept on wanting it for all me." " But I am a friend of hers," persisted Winn, his ire rising, " and I wish to see her." " Well, go hunt for her," came the insolent answer. li:i A NEW STAR S78 "She's in the city; but her address is her private property, and you don't learn it from me." And he turned away. And Winn did likewise, too angiy for further parley. And that night, impelled a little by penitence and iiore by despondency, he caUed on Ethel Sher- man. " How did you enjoy Scotch melodies last even- ing?" he said gently, not wishing to seem inquisi- tive; " I saw you in a box at the ' Alhambra.' " "Enjoy hardly expresses it," she answered earnestly; "I was spellbound, enraptured, and moved to tears. It was silly, I know, but I couldn't help it. Did you see me throw my flowers at the girl ? " "I did," he replied, his heart throbbing; "and you were not alone in your enthusiasm. She seemed to carry the house by storm. It was her farewell appearance, I noticed by he papers this morning." He was trying to speak indifferently, but it was not easy. ^^ ''I am sorry," she responded, eyeing him keenly; " I've heard her five times in the past two weeks, and yesterday learned she was from Rockhaven. Did you ever hear her before ? " f^ \H If I ! 374 ROCKHATEK Then Winn knew that his secret was a secret no longer. " I have," he admitted modestly ; " she is the niece of Jess Hutton." " And it was to see her that you went to the island two weeks ago," pursued Ethel, smiling; " I thought as much then." For a moment she tapped the carpet with one dainty slipper, while her lips were pressed tightly together, and then she continued : — " I knew last summer," she' said, in a cool and even voice, " that you had left your heart on the island when you came hack. Permit me to congratu- late you. The girl is a marvel." " It is very kind of you to say so," he responded dejectedly, " but useless. I didn't find her when I went there, and it's all over between us, I presume." Then Ethel laughed, but it was unnatural, and like the rattle of dry bones. "Not a bit of it," she said briskly ; " women with such eyes as hers do not unlearn the lesson of love easily. You may have to beg forgiveness for your neglect on your knees, but you will receive it. It is such souls as hers that give the lie to all our worldly philosophy." " Have you such a one ? " he queried thoughtleesly. Her eyes flashed. et no sland ought li one ightly >1 and in the gratu- londed 'hen I lume." td like ," she do not lave to 38, but at give A HIW STAB 876 "No," she answered bitterly; "no one ever accused me of such folly. I have no heart, and am for sale to the highest bidder." " I beg your pardon, Ethel," he said humbly, " I was only thinking of the long ago, and forgot what I was then." " You need not," she replied, turning away. " I only am to blame, but — it hurt — from you." Then, covering her eyes with one hand, she added slowly, as if tl,e words came hard: "It's all past and gone, Winn, but — but I did not know myself then, and now it's too lata God help me t " At the door she laid a detaining hand on his arm. " I wish you well," she said, with a quiver in her voice; "I wish you all that's best and holiest in life. Go to your island girl, and at once. She is worthy of you, and you of her. We have been good friends, and I hope always will be. Love is only an illusion, but friendship endless. And now, good-by, and God bless you ! " And Winn, going v,ut into the night, knew that the proud girl was reaping the pain she had sown. tlessly. il ! CHAPTER XLVn LOVE ETEEWAL The first warn days of spring had come to Rock- haven ere Mona and her parents returned. The sunny slopes back of the village were growing green, tho tuhps and daff9dil8 in Mona's dooryard just peeping out, the gulls on the cliffs nest-building, the fisherm^ painting their boats and mending neto, Parson Bush with two helpers, thanks to Rockhaven stock, shin- gling the church, and life on the island budding forth mto vernal activity. No hint of Mona's proud life in the city and wonderful triumph had reached those people, and the Hutton family were welcomed back as returning from a pleasure trip. It was Mona's expressed wi.h that no mention be made of her musical ambition and its success, and ,s her desires were now la^ with Jess and her mother, she was obeyed. Captain Roby had told them of Wmns astonishing and unexpected visit before they set foot on the island ; and it was repeated by many others with sundry comments, all converging to one 870 m LOT! XTIBITAI. 877 end, Mrs. Moore's being the most pointed, perhaps, and therefore best to quote. "I think," said that well-i-tentioned gossip- monger to Mona, " he come here to make ye a visit, more 'speshly, though he said he wanted to see what could be done 'bout settin' the quarry a-goin'. He called on me, and the only tiling he seemed to listen to with any sort o' interest was 'bout you goin' away and when you was like to come back. I never seen a feller act more love-struck than he was, an' more out o' sorts. He even went a wandering over the island in the snow, like as if he was demented." All this was a revelation to Mona, and unac- countable. At first it provoked her silent derision and increased the bitterness and almost hatred which she had come to feel toward this erstwhile lover. Mona Hutton was what country people would call a strange compound : a product of a lone sea island, of its storms and the unceasing booming of billows ; of days, weeks, and months spent alone, where only the ocean voiced eternity ; of the whispers of winds in spruce thickets, of the gorge and the cave where she hid herself; of her own moods, sad, solemn, and con- templative. She had grown up close to God, but distant from man. The flowers blooming in her door- 878 BOCKRATnr yard, the wild tosm dinging to life between the gran- ite ledges, the sea-gtillg sailing over the oli£Fi, the inward nuh of the whitensrested waves tossing the rockweed and kelpie upward, and the starfish and anemones left by the tide had been her playmates. She had learned to depend on these and her violin for company, Ijoven she had none, neither were other island young folk akin to her. Between her mother and herself, also, was a chasm. It had been opened when that unsympathetic mother forbade the violin in her house, and was never afterward bridged. Jess only understood her. Jess, with his quaint philos- ophy, /nder heart, unselfish impulses, and love of nature, had been her spiritual and moral mentor. To him had she gone with her moods, and upon him lav- ished her childhood and girlhood love. And then had come a new and strangely sweet illu- sion, a glow of new sunshine wanning her heart and adding a roseate hue to her thoughts. It was un- accountable but charming, and seemed to lend a sparkle to the sea waves, a more impressive grandf to the limitless ocean, a tenderer beauty to the moon- light. The gorge and the cave seemed an enchanted nook in fairyland, and the old tide Jiill a romantic ruin. Then had come the climax of this strange intoziea- tion, the one ecstatic moment when this magician over her thought*, this Prince Perfect, had en- twined his arms about her and whispered, " I love you." Repel him she could not, neither did she care to do 80. It was to her as if the gates of another world were opened ; and in the wondrous thrill of his lips she forgot herself, life, and God, even. And then the cold and cruel message that said to her, " Forget me as I must you." It was a summer- day dream, with no hope of renewal Then came the long fight against her own heart's desire, the months of hopeless hope, and, at last, the will to win her way to the worid's applause. He was there I He might, must, see or hear of her ! He had said the world would listen entranced if she had but the courage to stand before thorn I And the old Carver will that was in her now nerved her to her trial. And in the days and weeks of the strange new life while she hoped, and yet feared, to meet him, that one thought was her staff. It was with her by day and by night, a silent defiance of love, a revenge for her pair When the supreme moment of her trial came and she stood before that sea of faces, only her young, trembling body was there, her eveiy thought. 880 ■OOXHATXH fi M her heart and aoul even, were back in the cave, and he f7a« listening. And it was because this cry of love, this thrill of longing, leaped out of her fingers and spoke in every note of the songs she played, that she won her triumph. For the applause she heard, the flowers showered upon her, the money received, she cared not at all. To reach him, show hini what she could do, ay, defy him even with the skill of her art, the majesty of her courage, was everything. And this waSiMona Hutton, and now it was all over. She had won her crown, fame was hers, the world of his city had bowed before her, but he was not there, or if he had been, she knew it not For days this defiance of her own love lasted, and then a change came. Little by little the leaven of his coming there softened her heart. Perhaps he had been ill, or not in the city at all ? Perhaps he had been, as he wrote, discouraged and hopeless? Per- haps she had not understood his . 'ter ? When love once sought excuses, they came in plenty, and she be- gan to upbraid herself. Why had she not sent him one word of love, one message of faith 1 And then this strange child of impulses, this girl tOVK ITKBNAL 881 of mood* and fanciei, sombre as twilight in the gorge and Bad as a whisper of sea winds in the pine trees, betook herself away from even Jess to nurse her heart- sickness again. She had been proud and defiant when she faced the world, scornful while pride lasted ; now she was a contrite child, pitiful in her self-reproaches. Each day she went to the tower to live over that parting in tears and heartache, and then to the cave, striving to recall every word, and lov>k, and smile of his. A pilgrimage to the shrine of love 1 A journey to the grave of hope 1 Sometimes she carried her violin, but its strings remained mute. Sometimes she fondled and kissed the sea-shells and starfish, now dry and hard, which his hand had carried to this trysting-place. Sometimes — yea, often, had tears fallen upon the cold stone floor of that nook, even as our tears fall upon the grass-grown graves of those we have lost. And then, one day, just as the twilight had dark- ened the gorge, and she, hopeless and heartbroken, leaned against the cave's cold waU, she saw him enter the ravine. 889 SOOKBATIR Step hy itep he climbed upward until the care waa reached, and then he knelt before her. " Forgive me, Mona," he said gently, extending hii handi, " I have loved you alwaya," and aa he gath- ered her close in his armi, God't whiiper of life and love eternal apoke from thnae granite walla. CHAPTER XLVIII CORCLCRION Tic« ocean billows still host unceasingly against Rockhaven's granite cliffs and toss the rockweeil iiiul kelpie aloft. The tide still ebbs and flows beneath the old mill, and the fishcrnion still mend their nets and sail away. Parson Bush is getting old and feeble, and his hair white as snow. He still utters fervent thanks, however, for the many blessings that have come to this far-off island, including the new church Jess and Winn were instrumental in build- ing. The same old bell still hang.; ii. its tower, and Sunday evenings always answers the one in North- aven. Its sound is sweet to Winn, for it always re- calls his boyhood days and marks a turning-point in his life-history. He is president of the new Rock- haven Granite Company now, and prosperous. A beautiful residence of granite stands back of the old tower on Norse Hill, and there Winn and Mona abide in summer, though the city claims them winters. Mona often entertains her friends with her violin. 884 KOCKHAVBN but no money would tempt her again to play in pub- lic. Jess still fiddles when he is " lunsum," which is not often, for a little girl with eyes like Mona's thinks " Gampa " the most wonderful man who ever lived. A hoy, two years older, would cut that fiddle open to find what made the noise, if he got the chance. They both pursue him from mom till eve and, in spite of their mother's protest, give him no rest. "Let 'em have all the fun they kin," he says, when Mona tries to call them off; " they won't be young but once, an' when they git old they'L hev' trouble 'nuff to make up." Winn and Mona often visit the gorge on pleasant Sunday afternoons, for the exquisite chords of ro- mance still vibrate in their hearts. Occasionally she takes her violin along, and once more the old sweet love songs whisper out of the cave. And hidden away in one comer of it, never dis- turbed, are a few sea-shells and dried starfish. pub- b is na's ever ddle nee. [, in lays, t be hev' isant E ro- f she iweet ' dia-