Anne: A Novel

  CHAPTER VII.

  "To all appearance it was chiefly by Accident, and the grace of Nature."--CARLYLE.

  It was still September; for great sorrows come, graves are made andturfed over, and yet the month is not out. Anne had written her letterimmediately, accepting her grandaunt's offer, and Pere Michaux gave herapproval and praise; but the others did not, could not, and she sufferedfrom their silence. It made, however, no change in her purpose; she wentabout her tasks steadily, toiling all day over the children's clothes,for she had used part of the money in her hands to make themcomfortable, and part was to be given to Miss Lois. Her own garmentstroubled her little; two strong, plain black gowns she considered amplysufficient. Into the midst of all this swift sewing suddenly one daycame Rast.

  "Why did I do it?" he said, in answer to everybody. "Do you suppose Iwas going to let Annet go away for a whole long year without saying evengood-by? Of course not."

  "It is very kind," said Anne, her tired eyes resting on his handsomeface gratefully, her sewing for the moment cast aside. Her friends hadnot been overkind to her lately, and she was deeply touched by thisproof of attachment from her old playmate and companion. Rast expressedhis affection, as usual, in his own way. He did not say that he had comeback to the island because he wished to see her, but because he knewthat she wished to see him. And Anne willingly agreed. Dr. Gaston, asguardian of this runaway collegian, gave him a long lecture on hisescapade and its consequences, his interrupted studies, a long train ofdisasters to follow being pictured with stern distinctness. Rastlistened to the sermon, or rather sat through it, without impatience: hehad a fine sunny temper, and few things troubled him. He seldom gaveany attention to subtleties of meaning, or under-currents, but took thesurface impression, and answered it promptly, often putting to rout byhis directness trains of reasoning much deeper than his own. So now allhe said was, "I could not help coming, sir, because Annet is going away;I wanted to see her." And the old man was silenced in spite of himself.

  As he was there, and it could not be helped, Rast, by common consent ofthe island, was allowed to spend several days unmolested among his oldhaunts. Then they all began to grow restive, to ask questions, and tospeak of the different boats. For the public of small villages hasalways a singular impatience as to anything like uncertainty in the dateof departure of its guests. Many a miniature community has been stirredinto heat because it could not find out the day and hour when Mrs. Blankwould terminate her visit at her friend's mansion, and with her trunkand bag depart on her way to the railway station; and this not becausethe community has any objection to Mrs. Blank, or any wish to have herdepart, but simply because if she is going, they wish to know _when_,and have it settled. The few days over, Rast himself was not unwillingto go. He had seen Anne, and Anne was pressed with work, and soconstantly threatened by grief that she had to hold it down with an ironeffort at almost every moment. If she kept her eyes free from tears andher voice steady, she did all she could; she had no idea that Rastexpected more. Rast meanwhile had learned clearly that he was aremarkably handsome, brilliant young fellow, and that the whole worldwas before him where to choose. He was fond of Anne; the best feelingsof his nature and the associations of his whole boyhood's life weretwined round her; and yet he was conscious that he had always been verykind to her, and this coming back to the island on purpose to seeher--that was remarkably kind. He was glad to do it, of course; but shemust appreciate it. He began now to feel that as he had seen her, and ashe could not in any case stay until she went, he might as well go. Heyielded, therefore, to the first suggestion of the higher powers,saying, however, frankly, and with real feeling, that it was hard to bidfarewell for so long a time to his old playmate, and that he did notknow how he could endure the separation. As the last words were spokenit was Rast who had tear-dimmed eyes; it was Rast's voice that faltered.Anne was calm, and her calmness annoyed him. He would have liked a moredemonstrative sorrow. But as he went down the long path on his way tothe pier where the steamboat was waiting, the first whistle havingalready sounded, he forgot everything save his affection for her and theloneliness in store for him after her departure. While she was on theirisland she seemed near, but New York was another world.

  Down in the shadow of the great gate there was an ancient littlecherry-tree, low and gnarled, which thrust one crooked arm across thepath above the heads of the passers-by. As Rast approached he saw in thedusky twilight a small figure perched upon this bough, and recognizedTita.

  "Is that you, child?" he said, pausing and looking up. She answered bydropping into his arms like a kitten, and clinging to him mutely, withher face hidden on his shoulder.

  "What an affectionate little creature she is, after all!" he thought,stroking her dark hair. Then, after saying good-by, and giving her akiss, he disengaged himself without much ceremony, and telling her to bea good girl and mind Miss Lois during the winter, he hurried down to thepier, the second whistle summoning all loiterers on board with shrillharshness. Tita, left alone, looked at her arms, reddened by the forcewith which she had resisted his efforts to unclasp them. They had beenpressed so closely against the rough woollen cloth of his coat that thebrown flesh showed the mark of the diagonal pattern.

  "SHE SAT THERE HIGH IN THE AIR WHILE THE STEAMER BACKEDOUT FROM THE PIERS."]

  "It is a hurt," she said, passionately--"it is a hurt." Her eyesflashed, and she shook her small fist at the retreating figure. Then, asthe whistle sounded a third time, she climbed quickly to the top of thegreat gates, and sat there high in the air while the steamer backedout from the piers, turned round, and started westward through theStraits, nothing now save a moving line of lights, the short Northerntwilight having faded into night.

  When the long sad day of parting was at last over, and everything donethat her hands could find to do in that amount of time, Anne, in her ownroom alone, let her feelings come forth; she was the only watcher in theold house, every other eye was closed in sleep. These moments alone atnight, when she allowed herself to weep and think, were like breathingtimes; then her sorrows came forth. According to her nature, she did notfear or brood upon her own future so much as upon the future of thechildren; the love in her heart made it seem to her a bitter fate to beforced to leave them and the island. The prospect of the long journey,the city school, the harsh aunt, did not dishearten her; they were butparts of her duty, the duty of her life. It was after midnight; stillshe sat there. The old shutters, which had been rattling for some time,broke their fastenings, and came violently against the panes with asound like the report of a pistol.

  "The wind is rising," she thought, vaguely, as she rose to fasten them,opening one of the windows for the purpose. In rushed the blast, blowingout the candle, driving books and papers across the floor, and whirlingthe girl's long loosened hair over her face and round her arms like thecoils of a boa-constrictor. Blinded, breathless, she hastily let downthe sash again, and peered through the small wrinkled panes. A few starswere visible between the light clouds which drove rapidly from north tosouth in long regular lines like bars, giving a singular appearance tothe sky, which the girl recognized at once, and in the recognition cameback to present life. "The equinoctial," she said to herself; "and oneof the worst. Where can the _Huron_ be? Has she had time to reach theshelter of the islands?"

  The _Huron_ was the steamer which had carried Rast away at twilight. Shewas a good boat and stanch. But Anne knew that craft as stanch had beenwrecked and driven ashore during these fierce autumn gales which sweepover the chain of lakes suddenly, and strew their coasts with fragmentsof vessels, and steamers also, from the head of Superior to the foot ofOntario. If there was more sea-room, vessels might escape; if there werebetter harbors, steamers might seek port; in a gale, an ocean captainhas twenty chances for his vessel where the lake captain has one. Annestood with her face pressed against the window for a long time; theforce of the wind increased. She took her candle and went across to aside room whose windows commanded the western pass: she hoped
that shemight see the lights of the steamer coming back, seeking the shelter ofthe island before the worst came. But all was dark. She returned to herroom, and tried to sleep, but could not. Dawn found her at the window,wakeful and anxious. There was to be no sun that day, only a yellowwhite light. She knelt down and prayed; then she rose, and braided anewher thick brown hair. When she entered the sitting-room the vivid rosefreshness which always came to her in the early morning was onlyslightly paled by her vigil, and her face seemed as usual to the boys,who were waiting for her. Before breakfast was ready, Miss Lois arrived,tightly swathed in a shawl and veils, and carrying a large basket.

  "There is fresh gingerbread in there," she said; "I thought the boysmight like some; and--it will be an excellent day to finish thosejackets, Anne. No danger of interruption."

  She did not mention the gale or Rast; neither did Anne. They sat down tobreakfast with the boys, and talked about thread and buttons. But, whilethey were eating, Louis exclaimed, "Why, there's Dr. Gaston!" andlooking up, they saw the chaplain struggling to keep his hat in place ashe came up the path sideways, fighting the wind.

  "He should just have wrapped himself up, and scudded before it as Idid," said Miss Lois.

  Anne ran to open the door, and the old clergyman came panting in.

  "It is such a miserable day that I thought you would like to have thatdictionary, dear; so I brought it down to you," he said, laying theheavy volume on the table.

  "Thanks. Have you had breakfast?" said Anne.

  "Well, no. I thought I would come without waiting for it this morning,in order that you might have the book, you know. What! _you_ here, MissLois?"

  "Yes, sir. I came to help Anne. We are going to have a good long day atthese jackets," replied Miss Lois, briskly.

  They all sat down at the table again, and Gabriel was going to thekitchen for hot potatoes, when he spied another figure strugglingthrough the gate and driving up the long path. "Pere Michaux!" he cried,running to open the door.

  In another moment the priest had entered, and was greeting themcheerfully. "As I staid in town overnight, I thought, Anne, that I wouldcome up and look over those books. It is a good day for it; there willbe no interruption. I think I shall find a number of volumes which I maywish to purchase."

  "It is very kind; I shall like to think of my dear father's books inyour hands. But have you breakfasted?"

  No, the priest acknowledged that he had not. In truth, he was not hungrywhen he rose; but now that he saw the table spread, he thought he mighteat something after all.

  So they sat down again, and Louis went out to help Gabriel bring in morecoffee, potatoes, and eggs. There was a good deal of noise with theplates, a good deal of passing to and fro the milk, cream, butter, andsalt; a good deal of talking on rather a high key; a great manyquestions and answers whose irrelevancy nobody noticed. Dr. Gaston tolda long story, and forgot the point; but Miss Lois laughed as heartily asthough it had been acutely present. Pere Michaux then brought up thevenerable subject of the lost grave of Father Marquette; and the othersentered into it with the enthusiasm of resurrectionists, and as thoughthey had never heard of it before, Miss Lois and Dr. Gaston even seemingto be pitted against each other in the amount of interest they showedconcerning the dead Jesuit. Anne said little; in truth, there was nospace left for her, the others keeping up so brisk a fire of phrases. Itwas not until Tita, coming into the room, remarked, as she warmed herhands, that breakfast was unusually early, that any stop was made, andthen all the talkers fell upon her directly, in lieu of FatherMarquette. Miss Lois could not imagine what she meant. It was sad,indeed, to see such laziness in so young a child. Before long she wouldbe asking for breakfast in bed! Dr. Gaston scouted the idea that it wasearly; he had often been down in the village an hour earlier. It was afine bracing morning for a walk.

  All this time the high ceaseless whistle of the wind, the roar of thewater on the beach, the banging to and fro of the shutters here andthere on the wide rambling old mansion, the creaking of the near treesthat brushed its sides, and the hundred other noises of the gale, madethe room seem strange and uncomfortable; every now and then the solidold frame-work vibrated as a new blast struck it, and through the floorand patched carpet puffs of cold air came up into the room and sweptover their feet. All their voices were pitched high to overcome thesesounds.

  Tita listened to the remarks addressed to her, noted the pretense ofbustle and hearty appetite, and then, turning to the window, she said,during a momentary lull in the storm, "I do not wonder that you can noteat, when poor Rast is somewhere on that black water."

  Dr. Gaston pushed away his plate, Miss Lois sat staring at the wall withher lips tightly compressed, while Anne covered her face with her handsto keep back the tears. Pere Michaux rose and began to walk up and downthe room; for a moment, besides his step, there was no sound save theroar of the storm. Tita's words had ended all pretense, clothed theirfear in language, and set it up in their midst. From that moment,through the long day, there was no more disguise; every cloud, everygreat wave, was watched, every fresh fierce blast swept through fouranxious hearts. They were very silent now, and as the storm grewwilder, even the boys became awed, and curled themselves together on thebroad window-seat, speaking in whispers. At noon a vessel drove by underbare poles; she seemed to be unmanageable, and they could see thesignals of the sailors as they passed the island. But there was nolife-boat, and nothing else could live in that sea. At two o'clock alarge bark came into view, and ran ashore on the reef opposite; thereshe lay, pounding to pieces for two hours. They saw the crew try tolaunch the boats; one was broken into fragments in a moment, thenanother. The third and last floated, filled with humanity, and in twominutes she also was swamped, and dark objects that they knew were menwere sucked under. Then the hull of a schooner, with one mast standing,drove aimlessly by, so near the shore that with the glass they could seethe features of the sailors lashed to the pole.

  "Oh! if we could but save them!" said Anne. "How near they are!" Buteven as she spoke the mast fell, and they saw the poor fellows drownbefore their eyes.

  At four the _Huron_ came into sight from the western pass, laboringheavily, fighting her way along inch by inch, but advancing. "Thanks beto the Lord for this!" said the chaplain, fervently. Pere Michaux tookoff his velvet cap, and reverently made the sign of the cross.

  "'Twouldn't be any harm to sing a hymn, I guess," said Miss Lois, wipingher eyes. Then Anne sang the "De Profundis." Amid the storm all thevoices rose together, the children and Miss Lois and the two priestsjoining in the old psalm of King David, which belongs to all alike,Romanist and Protestant, Jew and Christian, bond and free.

  "I do feel better," said Miss Lois. "But the steamer is still far off."

  "The danger will be when she attempts to turn," said Pere Michaux.

  They all stood at the windows watching the boat as she rolled andpitched in the heavy sea, seeming half the time to make no headway atall, but on the contrary to be beaten back, yet doggedly persisting. Atfive o'clock she had reached the point where she must turn and run thegauntlet in order to enter port, with the gale striking full upon herside. Every front window in the village now held gazing faces, and alongthe piers men were clustered under the lee of the warehouses with ropesand hooks, waiting to see what they could do. The steamer seemed tohesitate a moment, and was driven back. Then she turned sharply andstarted in toward the piers with all steam on. The watchers at theAgency held their breath. For a moment or two she advanced rapidly, thenthe wind struck her, and she careened until her smoke-stacks seemedalmost to touch the water. The boys cried out; Miss Lois clasped herhands. But the boat had righted herself again by changing her course,and was now drifting back to her old station. Again and again she madethe attempt, now coming slowly, now with all the sudden speed she couldmuster; but she never advanced far before the lurch came, throwing heron her side, with one paddle-wheel in the air, and straining everytimber in her frame. After half an hour of this work she drew off, andbegan t
o ply slowly up and down under the partial shelter of the littleisland opposite, as if resting. But there was not a place where shecould cast anchor, nor any safety in flight; the gale would outlast thenight, and the village harbor was her best hope. The wind wasincreasing, the afternoon sinking into night; every one on the islandand on board also knew that when darkness fell, the danger, alreadygreat, would be trebled. Menacing and near on every side were long lowshore-lines, which looked harmless enough, yet held in their sands thebones of many a drowned man, the ribs of many a vessel.

  "Why doesn't she make another trial?" said Dr. Gaston, feverishly wipinghis eyeglasses. "There is no use in running up and down under thatisland any longer."

  "The captain is probably making everything ready for a final attempt,"answered Pere Michaux.

  And so it seemed, for, after a few more minutes had passed, the steamerleft her shelter, and proceeded cautiously down to the end of the littleisland, keeping as closely in shore as she could, climbing each wavewith her bows, and then pitching down into the depth on the other side,until it seemed as if her hind-quarters must be broken off, being toolong to fit into the watery hollows under her. Having reached the end ofthe islet, she paused, and slowly turned.

  "Now for it," said Pere Michaux.

  It was sunset-time in pleasant parts of the land; here the raw, cold,yellow light, which had not varied since early morning, giving apeculiar distinctness to all objects near or far, grew more clear for afew moments--the effect, perhaps, of the after-glow behind the cloudswhich had covered the sky all day unmoved, fitting as closely as thecover upon a dish. As the steamer started out into the channel, those onshore could see that the passengers were gathered on the deck as ifprepared for the worst. They were all there, even the children. But nowno one thought any more, only watched; no one spoke, only breathed. Thesteamer was full in the gale, and on her side. Yet she kept along,righting herself a little now and then, and then careening anew. Itseemed as though she would not be able to make headway with her onewheel, but she did. Then the islanders began to fear that she would bedriven by too far out; but the captain had allowed for that. In a fewseconds more it became evident that she would just brush the end of thelongest pier, with nothing to spare. Then the men on shore ran down, thewind almost taking them off their feet, with ropes, chains,grappling-irons, and whatever they could lay their hands on. Thesteamer, now unmanageable, was drifting rapidly toward them on her side,the passengers clinging to her hurricane-deck and to the railings. Agreat wave washed over her when not twenty feet from the pier, bearingoff several persons, who struggled in the water a moment, and thendisappeared. Anne covered her eyes with her hands, and prayed that Rastmight not be among these. When she looked again, the boat was fastenedby two, by ten, by twenty, ropes and chains to the end of the pier, bowson, and pulling at her halters like an unmanageable steed, while womenwere throwing their children into the arms of those below, and men werejumping madly over, at the risk of breaking their ankle-bones. Anythingto be on the blessed shore! In three minutes a hundred persons were onthe pier, and Rast among them. Anne, Dr. Gaston, Pere Michaux, MissLois, and the children all recognized his figure instantly, and the twoold men started down through the storm to meet him, in their excitementrunning along like school-boys, hand in hand.

  Rast was safe. They brought him home to the Agency in triumph, andplaced him in a chair before the fire. They all wanted to touch him, inorder to feel that he was really there, to be glad over him, to makemuch of him; they all talked together. Anne came to his side with tenderaffection. He was pale and moved. Instinctively and naturally as a childturns to its mother he turned to her, and, before them all, laid hishead down upon her shoulder, and clung to her without speaking. Theelders drew away a little; the boys stopped their clamor. Only Tita kepther place by the youth's side, and frowned darkly on the others.

  Then they broke into a group again. Rast recovered himself, Dr. Gastonbegan to make puns, and Pere Michaux and Miss Lois revived the subjectof Father Marquette as a safe ladder by which they could all come downto common life again. A visit to the kitchen was made, and a grandrepast, dinner and supper combined, was proposed and carried into effectby Miss Lois, Pere Michaux, and the Irish soldier's wife, the three boysacting as volunteers. Even Dr. Gaston found his way to the distantsanctuary through the series of empty rooms that preceded it, andproffering his services, was set to toasting bread--a duty heaccomplished by attentively burning one side of every slice, andforgetting the other, so that there was a wide latitude of choice, andall tastes were suited. With his wig pushed back, and his cheery facescarlet from the heat, he presented a fine contrast to Pere Michaux,who, quietly and deliberately as usual, was seasoning a stew withscientific care, while Miss Lois, beating eggs, harried the Irishsoldier's wife until she ran to and fro, at her wits' end.

  Tita kept guard in the sitting-room, where Anne had been decisivelyordered to remain and entertain Rast; the child sat in her corner,watching them, her eyes narrowed under their partly closed lids. Rasthad now recovered his usual spirits, and talked gayly; Anne did not saymuch, but leaned back in her chair listening, thankfully quiet andhappy. The evening was radiant with contentment; it was midnight whenthey separated. The gale was then as wild as ever; but who cared nowwhether the old house shook?

  Rast was safe.

  At the end of the following day at last the wind ceased: twenty-twowrecks were counted in the Straits alone, with many lives lost. The deadsailors were washed ashore on the island beaches and down the coast, andburied in the sands where they were found. The friends of those who hadbeen washed overboard from the steamer came up and searched for theirbodies up and down the shores for miles; some found their lost, others,after days of watching in vain, went away sorrowing, thinking, with anew idea of its significance, of that time "when the sea shall give upher dead."

  After the storm came halcyon days. The trees now showed those brillianthues of the American autumn which as yet no native poet has so stronglydescribed, no native artist so vividly painted, that the older nationsacross the ocean have fit idea of their splendor. Here, in the North,the scarlet, orange, and crimson trees were mingled with pines, whichmade the green of the background; indeed, the islets all round were likegorgeous bouquets set in the deep blue of the water, and floatingquietly there.

  Rast was to return to college in a few days. He was in such gay spiritsthat Miss Lois was vexed, although she could hardly have told why. PereMichaux, however, aided and encouraged all the pranks of the youngstudent. He was with him almost constantly, not returning to thehermitage at all during the time of his stay; Miss Lois was surprisedto see how fond he was of the youth.

  "No one can see Rast a moment alone now," she said, complainingly; "PereMichaux is always with him."

  "Why do you want to see him alone?" said Tita, from her corner, lookingup for a moment from her book.

  "Don't you know that it is rude to ask questions?" said Miss Lois,sharply. But although she gave no reasons, it was plain that for somereason she was disappointed and angry.

  The last day came, the last afternoon; the smoke of the coming steamercould be seen beyond the blue line of the point. No danger now of storm;the weather would be fair for many days. Pere Michaux had proposed thatAnne, Rast, and himself should go up to the heights behind the house andwatch the sunset hues for the last time that year; they were to comeback to the Agency in time to meet Dr. Gaston and Miss Lois, and taketea there all together, before the steamer's departure. Tita announcedthat she wished to go to the heights also.

  "Come along then, Puss," said Rast, giving her his hand.

  They set out through the garden, and up the narrow winding path; but theascent was steep, and the priest climbed slowly, pausing now and then totake breath. Rast staid with him, while Anne strolled forward; Titawaited with Rast. They had been sitting on a crag for several minutes,when suddenly Rast exclaimed: "Hallo! there's Spotty's dog! he has beenlost for three days, the scamp. I'll go up and catch him, and be back ina m
oment." While still speaking he was already scaling the rocks abovethem, not following the path by which Anne had ascended, but swinginghimself up, hand over hand, with the dexterity and strength of amountaineer; in a minute or two he was out of sight. Spotty's dog was afavorite in the garrison, Spotty, a dilapidated old Irish soldier, beinghis owner in name. Spotty said that the dog had "followed" him, when hewas passing through Detroit; if he did, he had never repeated the act,but had persistently gone in the opposite direction ever since. But themen always went out and hunted for him all over the island, sooner orlater finding him and bringing him back; for they liked to see him danceon his mournful hind legs, go through the drill, and pretend to bedead--feats which once formed parts of his repertoire as member of thetravelling canine troupe which he had deserted at Detroit. It wasconsidered quite an achievement to bring back this accomplished animal,and Rast was not above the glory. But it was not to be so easy as he hadimagined: several minutes passed and he did not return, Spotty's doghaving shown his thin nose and one eye but an instant at the top of theheight, and then withdrawn them, leaving no trace behind.

  "We will go up the path, and join Anne," said Pere Michaux; "we will notwait longer for Rast. He can find us there as well as here."

  They started; but after a few steps the priest's foot slipped on arolling stone; he lost his balance, and half fell, half sank to theground, fortunately directly along the narrow path, and not beyond itsedge. When he attempted to rise, he found that his ankle was strained:he was a large man, and he had fallen heavily. Tita bound up the placeas well as she could with his handkerchief and her own formed into abandage; but at best he could only hobble. He might manage to go downthe path to the house, but evidently he could not clamber further. Againthey waited for Rast, but he did not come. They called, but no oneanswered. They were perched half way up the white cliff, where no onecould hear them. Tita's whole face had grown darkly red, as though theblood would burst through; she looked copper-colored, and her expressionwas full of repressed impatience. Pere Michaux, himself more perturbedand angry than so slight a hurt would seem to justify, happening to lookat her, was seized with an idea. "Run up, child," he said, "and joinAnne; do not leave her again. Tell her what has happened, and--mind whatI say exactly, Tita--do not leave her."

  Tita was off up the path and out of sight in an instant. The old priest,left to himself, hobbled slowly down the hill and across the garden tothe Agency, not without some difficulty and pain.

  Anne had gone up to the heights, and seated herself in good faith towait for the others; Rast had gone after the dog in good faith, and notto seek Anne. Yet they met, and the others did not find them.

  The dog ran away, and Rast after him, down the north path for a mile,and then straight into the fir wood, where nothing can be caught, man ordog. So Rast came back, not by the path, but through the forest, andfound Anne sitting in a little nook among the arbor vitae, where therewas an opening, like a green window, overlooking the harbor. He sat downby her side, and fanned himself with his hat for a few moments, and thenhe went down to find Pere Michaux and bring him up thither. But by thattime the priest had reached the house, and he returned, saying that hesaw by the foot-marks that the old man had for some reason gone down thehill again, leaving them to watch their last sunset alone. He threwhimself down by Anne's side, and together they looked through theirgreen casement.

  "The steamer has turned the point," said Anne.

  They both watched it in silence. They heard the evening gun from thefort.

  "I shall never forgive myself, Rast, for having let you go before socarelessly. When the gale began that night, every blast seemed to gothrough my heart."

  "I thought you did not appear to care much," said Rast, in an aggrievedtone.

  "Did you notice it, then? It was only because I have to repress myselfevery moment, dear, lest I should give way entirely. You know I too mustgo far away--far away from all I love. I feel it very deeply."

  "YOU KNOW I TOO MUST GO FAR AWAY."]

  She turned toward him as she spoke, with her eyes full of tears. Her hatwas off, and her face, softened by emotion, looked for the first time tohis eyes womanly. For generally that frank brow, direct gaze, andimpersonal expression gave her the air of a child. Rast had neverthought that Anne was beautiful; he had never thought of himself as herlover. He was very fond of her, of course; and she was very fond ofhim; and he meant to be good to her always. But that was all. Now,however, suddenly a new feeling came over him; he realized that her eyeswere very lovely, and that her lips trembled with emotion. True, eventhen she did not turn from him, rather toward him; but he was too younghimself to understand these indications, and, carried away by hersweetness, his own affection, and the impulse of the moment, he put hisarm round her, and drew her toward him, sure that he loved her, andespecially sure that she loved him. Poor Anne, who would soon have topart with him--dear Anne, his old playmate and friend!

  Half an hour later he came into the Agency sitting-room, where theothers were waiting, with a quick step and sparkling eyes, and, with thetone and manner of a young conqueror, announced, "Dr. Gaston, and all ofyou, I am going to marry Annet. We are engaged."