Cicely thought of everything, she ordered everything; she and Eve had
changed places. It was decided that they should take a North Shore
steamer; this would carry them eastward to the Sault by a route far away
from Port aux Pins. Mrs. Mile was to be sent back to that flourishing
town on the day of their own departure, but preceding it in time by
several hours; she would carry no tidings because she would know none.
Hollis was to be taken into their confidence in a measure--he was to be
informed that this change of plan was a necessity, and that Paul must
not hear of it.
"He will do what we tell him to do," Cicely remarked.
"Oh, yes," said Eve, assentingly.
The first North Shore steamer would not pass before the morning of the
third day. For twenty-four hours Eve remained inert, she did nothing.
The judge, troubled, but inexpressibly excited at the prospect of never
seeing Port aux Pins again; of getting away from these cold woods, and
in a few days from these horrible great lakes; of soon breathing once
more the air of his dear, warm, low-lying country, with its old
plantations, its old towns, its old houses and old friends, hurried
about wildly, trotting hither and thither on many errands, but without
accomplishing much. On the second day Eve's mood changed, and a feverish
activity took possession of her also; she was up and out at dawn, she
did everything she could think of, she worked incessantly. By noon there
was nothing more left to do, and there still remained the whole half of
the day, and the night.
"I think I'll go out on the lake," she said to Cicely.
"Yes, row hard; tire yourself," Cicely answered.
She spoke coldly, though the advice she offered was good. She was trying
hard to be kind to Eve during these difficult last hours when Paul was
still so near; but though she did her best, she often failed. "You'd
better not come back until nearly dark," she added; "we've got to be
together through the long journey, you know."
"Very well," Eve replied.
It was a brilliant afternoon, the air was clear; already the woods had
an autumn look. Eve paddled eastward for some time; then she came back
and went out to Jupiter Light. Beaching her canoe, she strolled to and
fro for a while; then she sat down. The water came up and laved the reef
with a soft, regular sound, the Light loomed above her; presently a man
came out of the door and locked it behind him.
"Good-afternoon, mum," he said, pausing on his way to his boat. "From
the camp down below, ain't yer?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm going the other way _myself_. Want to be light-keeper for an
hour or two?" This jocularly.
It was the man who had come down with a lantern and preceded her and
Paul up the stairs to the little room at the top.
"There's some one else above, isn't there?" she asked.
"No, mum; all three of us off ter-day. But me and John Rail'll be back
afore dark; you won't tell on us, I guess?" He gave a toothless smile
and pushed off, nodding slightly in farewell as the distance between
them increased. He went eastward round the point; his boat was soon out
of sight.
Eve sat gazing at the Light; she recalled the exact tones of Paul's
voice as he said, "_Don't_ you want to go up?" Then they had climbed up,
and down again; and how sweet and strange and exciting it was! Then he
had rowed the canoe home; how delightful it had been to sit there and
feel the boat dart forward under his strong strokes in the
darkness!--for night had come on while they lingered on the reef. Then
she remembered her anger when he said, as he was helping her out, "I saw
how much you wanted to go!" It seemed so strange that she should ever
have been angry with him; she could never be so again, no matter what he
might do. She tried to think of the things he might do; for instance, he
might marry (she had almost said "marry again"). "I ought to wish that
he might find some one--" But she could go no further, that was the end
of that line of thought; she could not wish anything of the kind. She
pressed her hands together in bitter, hot rebellion. But even her
rebellion was without hope. She had been sitting with her feet crossed
before her; she drew up her knees, put her arms upon them, and her head
on her arms. She sat thus a long time.