HAZEL returned homeward in a glow of triumph, and for once felt disposed
to brag to Helen of his victory--a victory by which she was to profit;
not he.
They met in the wood; for she had tracked him by his footsteps. She
seemed pale and disturbed, and speedily interrupted his exclamations of
triumph by one of delight, which was soon, however, followed by one of
distress.
"Oh, look at you!" she said. "You have been in the water. It is wicked;
wicked."
"But I have solved the problem. I caught three ducks one after the other
and tied the intelligence to their legs. They are at this moment
careering over the ocean, with our story and our longitude, and a guess
at our latitude. Crown me with bays."
"With foolscap, more likely," said Helen. "Only just getting well of
rheumatic fever, and to go and stand in water up to the middle."
"Why, you don't listen to me!" cried Hazel, in amazement. "I tell you I
have solved the problem."
"It is you that don't listen to common sense," retorted Helen. "If you go
and make yourself ill, all the problems in the world will not compensate
me. And I must say I think it was not very kind of you to run off so
without warning. Why give me hours of anxiety for want of a word? But
there, it is useless to argue with a boy; yes, sir, a boy. The fact is, I
have been too easy with you of late. One indulges sick children. But then
they must not slip away and stand in the water, or there is an end of
indulgence; and one is driven to severity. You must be ruled with a rod
of iron. Go home this moment, sir, and change your clothes; and don't you
presume to come into the presence of the nurse you have offended, till
there's not a wet thread about you."
And so she ordered him off. The inventor in his moment of victory slunk
away crestfallen to change his clothes.
So far Helen Rolleston was a type of her sex in its treatment of
inventors. At breakfast she became a brilliant exception. The moment she
saw Hazel seated by her fire in dry clothes she changed her key and made
him relate the whole business, and expressed the warmest admiration, and
sympathy.
"But," said she, "I do ask you not to repeat this exploit too often; now
don't do it again for a fortnight. The island will not run away. Ducks
come and go every day, and your health is very, very precious."
He colored with pleasure, and made the promise at once. But during this
fortnight events occurred. In the first place, he improved his invention.
He remembered how a duck, over-weighted by a crab, which was fast to her
leg, had come on board the boat. Memory dwelling on this, and invention
digesting it, he resolved to weight his next batch of ducks; for he
argued thus: "Probably our ducks go straight from this to the great
American Continent. Then it may be long ere one of them falls into the
hands of a man; and perhaps that man will not know English. But, if I
could impede the flight of my ducks, they might alight on ships; and
three ships out of four know English."
Accordingly, he now inserted stones of various sizes into the little
bags. It was a matter of nice calculation. The problem was to weight the
birds just so much that they might be able to fly three or four hundred
miles, or about half as far as their unencumbered companions.
But in the midst of all this a circumstance occurred that would have made
a vain man, or indeed most men, fling the whole thing away. Helen and he
came to a rupture. It began by her fault, and continued by his. She did
not choose to know her own mind, and, in spite of secret warnings from
her better judgment, she was driven by curiosity, or by the unhappy
restlessness to which her sex are peculiarly subject at odd times, to
sound Hazel as to the meaning of a certain epigram that rankled in her.
And she did it in the most feminine way, that is to say, in the least
direct; whereas the safest way would have been to grasp the nettle, if
she could not let it alone.
Said she one day, quietly, though with a deep blush: "Do you know Mr.
Arthur Wardlaw?"
Hazel gave a shiver, and said, "I do."
"Do you know anything about him?"
"I do."
"Nothing to his discredit, I am sure."
"If you are sure, why ask me? Do I ever mention his name?"
"Perhaps you do, sometimes, without intending it."
"You are mistaken. He is in your thoughts, no doubt; but not in mine."
"Ought I to forget people entirely, and what I owe them?"
"That is a question I decline to go into."
"How harshly you speak to me. Is that fair? You know my engagement, and
that honor and duty draw me to England; yet I am happy here. You, who are
so good and strong, might pity me at least; for I am torn this way and
that." And here the voice ceased and the tears began to flow.
"I do pity you," said Hazel. "I must pity any one who is obliged to
mention honor and duty in the same breath as Arthur Wardlaw."
At this time Helen drew back, offended bitterly. _"That_ pity I reject
and scorn," said she. "No, I plighted my faith with my eyes open, and to
a worthy object. I never knew him blacken any person who was not there to
speak for himself, and that is a very worthy trait, in my opinion. The
absent are like children; they are helpless to defend themselves."
Hazel racked with jealousy, and irritated at this galling comparison,
lost his temper for once, and said those who lay traps must not complain
if others fall into them.
"Traps! Who lay them?"
"You did, Miss Rolleston. Did I ever condescend to mention that man's
name since we have been on the island? It is you make me talk of him."
"Condescend?"
"That is the word. Nor will I ever deign to mention him again. If my love
had touched your heart, I should have been obliged to mention him, for
then I should have been bound to tell you a story in which he is mixed,
my own miserable story--my blood boils against the human race when I
think of it. But no, I see I am nothing to you; and I will be silent."
"It is very cruel of you to say that," replied Helen, with tears in her
eyes; "tell me your story, and you will see whether you are nothing to
me."
"Not one word of it," said Hazel slowly, "until you have forgotten that
man exists."
"Oh! thank you, sir, this is plain speaking. I am to forget honor and
plighted faith; and then you will trust me with your secrets, when I have
shown myself unworthy to be trusted with anything. Keep your secrets, and
I'll try and keep faith; ay, and I shall keep it, too, as long as there's
life in my body."
"Can't you keep faith without torturing me, who love you?"
Helen's bosom began to heave at this, but she fought bravely. "Love me
less, and respect me more," said she, panting; "you affront me, you
frighten me. I looked on you as a brother, a dear brother. But now I am
afraid of you-- I am afraid."
He was so injudicious as to interrupt her, instead of giving her time to
contradict herself. "You have nothing to fear," said he; "keep this side
of the island, and I'll live on the other, rather than hear the name of
Arthur Wardlaw."
Helen's courage failed her at that spirited proposal, and she made no
reply at all, but turned her back haughtily, and went away from him,
only, when she had got a little way, her proud head drooped, and she went
crying.
A coolness sprang up between them, and neither of them knew how to end
it. Hazel saw no way to serve her now, except by flying weighted ducks,
and he gave his mind so to this that one day he told her he had
twenty-seven ducks in the air, all charged, and two-thirds of them
weighted. He thought that must please her now. To his surprise and
annoyance, she received the intelligence coldly, and asked him whether it
was not cruel to the birds.
Hazel colored with mortification at his great act of self-denial being so
received.
He said, "I don't think my worst enemy can say I am wantonly cruel to
God's creatures."
Helen threw in, deftly, "And I am not your worst enemy."
"But what other way is there to liberate you from this island, where you
have nobody to speak to but me? Well, selfishness is the best course.
Think only of others, and you are sure not to please them."
"If you want to please people, you must begin by understanding them,"
said the lady, not ill-naturedly.
"But if they don't understand themselves?"
"Then pity them; you can, for you are a man."
"What hurts me," said Hazel, "is that you really seem to think I fly
these ducks for my pleasure. Why, if I had my wish, you and I should
never leave this island, nor any other person set a foot on it. I am
frank, you see."
"Rather too frank."
"What does it matter, since I do my duty all the same, and fly the ducks?
But sometimes I do yearn for a word of praise for it; and that word never
comes."
"It is a praiseworthy act," said Helen, but so icily that it is a wonder
he ever flew another duck after that.
"No matter," said he, and his hand involuntarily sought his heart; "you
read me a sharp but wholesome lesson, that we should do our duty for our
duty's sake. And as I am quite sure it is my duty to liberate you and
restore you to those you-- I'll fly three ducks to-morrow morning instead
of two."
"It is not done by my advice," said Helen. "You will certainly make
yourself ill."
"Oh, that is all nonsense!" said Hazel.
"You are rude to me," said Helen, "and I am not aware that I deserve it."
"Rude, am I? Then I'll say no more," said Hazel, half humbly, half
doggedly.
His parchment was exhausted, and he was driven to another expedient. He
obtained alcohol by distillation from rum, and having found dragon's
blood in its pure state, little ruby drops, made a deep red varnish that
defied water; he got slips of bark, white inside, cut his inscription
deep on the inner side, and filled the incised letters with this red
varnish. He had forty-eight ducks in the air, and was rising before
daybreak to catch another couple, when he was seized with a pain in the
right hip and knee, and found he could hardly walk, so he gave in that
morning, and kept about the premises. But he got worse, and he had hardly
any use in his right side, from the waist downward, and was in great
pain.
As the day wore on, the pain and loss of power increased, and resisted
all his remedies; there was no fever to speak of; but Nature was grimly
revenging herself for many a gentler warning neglected. When he realized
his condition, he was terribly cut up, and sat on the sand with his head
in his hands for nearly two hours. But, after that period of despondency,
he got up, took his boat-hook, and, using it as a staff, hobbled to his
arsenal, and set to work.
Among his materials was a young tree he had pulled up; the roots ran at
right angles to the stem. He just sawed off the ends of the roots, and
then proceeded to shorten the stem.
But meantime Helen, who had always a secret eye on him and his movements,
had seen there was something wrong, and came timidly and asked what was
the matter.
"Nothing," said he, doggedly.
"Then why did you sit so long on the sand? I never saw you like that."
"I was ruminating."
"What upon? Not that I have any right to ask."
"On the arrogance and folly of men; they attempt more than they can do,
and despise the petty prudence and common sense of women, and smart for
it; as I am smarting now for being wiser than you."
"Oh," said Helen; "why, what is the matter? and what is that you have
made? It looks like--oh, dear!"
"It is a crutch," said Hazel, with forced calmness; "and I am a cripple."
Helen clasped her hands, and stood trembling.
Hazel lost his self-control for a moment, and cried out in a voice of
agony, "A useless cripple. I wish I was dead and out of the way."
Then, ashamed of having given way before her, he seized his crutch,
placed the crook under his arm, and turned sullenly away from her.
Four steps he took with his crutch.
She caught him with two movements of her supple and vigorous frame.
She just laid her left hand gently on his shoulder, and with her right
she stole the crutch softly away, and let it fall upon the sand. She took
his right hand, and put it to her lips like a subject paying homage to
her sovereign; and then she put her strong arm under his shoulder, still
holding his right hand in hers, and looked in his face. "No wooden
crutches when I am by," said she, in a low voice, full of devotion.
He stood surprised, and his eyes began to fill.
"Come," said she, in a voice of music. And, thus aided, he went with her
to her cavern. As they went she asked him tenderly where the pain was.
"It _was_ in my hip and knee," he said. "But now it is nowhere; for joy
has come back to my heart."
"And to mine, too," said Helen; "except for this."
The quarrel dispersed like a cloud under this calamity. There was no
formal reconciliation; no discussion. And this was the wisest course, for
the unhappy situation remained unchanged; and the friendliest discussion
could only fan the embers of discord and misery gently, instead of
fiercely.
The pair so strangely thrown together commenced a new chapter of their
existence. It was not patient and nurse over again; Hazel, though very
lame, had too much spirit left to accept that position. But still the
sexes became in a measure reversed-- Helen the fisherman and forager,
Hazel the cook and domestic.
He was as busy as ever, but in a narrow circle; he found pearl oysters
near the sunk galleon, and, ere he had been lame many weeks, he had
entirely lined the sides of the cavern with mother-of-pearl set in
cement, and close as mosaic.
Every day he passed an hour in paradise; for his living crutch made him
take a little walk with her; her hand held his; her arm supported his
shoulder; her sweet face was near his, full of tender solicitude; they
seemed to be one; and spoke in whispers to each other, like thinking
aloud. The causes of happiness were ever present; the causes of
unhappiness were out of sight, and showed no signs of approach.
And, of the two, Helen was the happiest. Before a creature so pure as
this marries and has children, the great maternal instinct is still
there, but feeds on what it can get--first a doll, and then some helpless
creature or other. Too often she wastes her heart's milk on something
grown up, but as selfish as a child. Helen was more fortunate; her child
was her hero, now so lame that he must lean on her to walk. The days
passed by, and the island was fast becoming the world to those two, and
as bright a world as ever shone on two mortal creatures.
It was a happy dream.
What a pity that dreams dissolve so soon! This had lasted for nearly two
months, and Hazel was getting better, though still not well enough, or
not fool enough, to dismiss his live crutch, when one afternoon Helen,
who had been up on the heights, observed a dark cloud in the blue sky
toward the west. There was not another cloud visible, and the air
marvelously clear; time, about three quarters of an hour before sunset.
She told Hazel about this solitary cloud, and asked him, with some
anxiety, if it portended another storm. He told her to be under no
alarm--there were no tempests in that latitude except at the coming and
going out of the rains--but he should like to go round the Point and look
at her cloud.
She lent him her arm, and they went round the Point; and there they saw a
cloud entirely different from anything they had ever seen since they were
on the island. It was like an enormous dark ribbon stretched along the
sky, at some little height above the horizon. Notwithstanding its
prodigious length, it got larger before their very eyes.
Hazel started.
Helen felt him start, and asked him, with some surprise, what was the
matter.
"Cloud!" said he; "that is no cloud. That is smoke."
"Smoke!" echoed Helen, becoming agitated in her turn.
"Yes; the breeze is northerly, and carries the smoke nearer to us; it is
the smoke of a steamboat."