Part 11 (2/2)
”Ye-e-s--does it seem that way?” said she, ignoring the last remark.
”Well, you know it was only for a few days, and you kept calling yourself by some ridiculous alias, and scarcely used your surname at all, and I believe they called you Johnny--and you can't think what a disguise such a beard is! But I remember you now perfectly. It quite brings back those short months, when I was so young--and was finding things out! I can see the vine-covered porch, and Madame Lamoreaux's boarding-house on the South Side--”
”And the old art gallery?”
”Why, there was one, wasn't there?” said she, ”somewhere along the lake front, wasn't it?... Such a pleasant meeting, and so odd!”
I sat up in the hammock, and stared at them as they went on their promenade. The old art gallery, the vine-covered porch, the young man with the smooth-shaven dark face and the thrilling, vibrant voice, and the young, young girl with the ruddy hair, and the little, round form!
She seemed taller now, and there was more of maturity in the figure; but it was the same lissome waist and pet.i.te gracefulness which had so fully explained to me the avid eyes of her lover on that day when I had fled from the report of the Committee on Permanent Organization. It was the Empress Josephine, I had known that--and her Sir John!
Then I thought of her flying from him into the street, and the little bowed head on the street-car; and the old pity for her, the old bitterness toward him, returned upon me. I wondered how he could speak to her in this nonchalant way; what they were saying to each other; whether they would ever refer to that night at Auriccio's; what Alice would think of him if she ever found it out; whether he was a villain, or only erred pa.s.sionately; what was actually said in that palm alcove that night so long ago; whether this man, with the eyes and voice so fascinating to women, would renew his suit in this new life of ours; what Jim would think about it; and, more than all, how Josie herself would regard him.
”She ought never to have spoken to him again!” I hear some one say.
Ah, Madam, very true. But do you remember any authentic case of a woman who failed to forgive the man whose error or offense had for its excuse the irresistible attraction of her own charms?
They were coming back now, still talking.
”You dropped out of sight, like a partridge into a thicket,” said he.
”Some of them said you had gone back to--to--”
”To the farm,” she prompted.
”Well, yes,” he conceded; ”and others said you had left Chicago for New York; and some, even Paris.”
”I fail to see the warrant,” said Josie, as they approached the limit of earshot, ”for any of the people at Madame Lamoreux's giving themselves the trouble to investigate.”
”So far as that is concerned,” said he, ”I should think that I--” and his voice quite lost intelligibility.
My cigar had gone out, and the cessation of the music ought to have apprised me of the breaking up of the dance, and still I lay looking at the sky and filled with my thoughts.
”Here he is,” said Alice, ”asleep in the hammock! For shame, Albert!
This would not have occurred, once!”
”I am free to admit that,” said I, ”but why am I now disturbed?”
”We're going on a cruise in the gondola,” said Antonia, ”and Mr. Elkins says you are lieutenant, and we can't sail without you. Come, it's perfectly beautiful out there.”
”We're going to the head of navigation and back,” said Jim, ”and then our revels will be ended. --Hang it!” to me, ”they left the skull and crossbones off all the flags!”
Mr. Barr-Smith at once engaged the engineer in conversation, and seemed worming from him all his knowledge of the construction of the boat. The rest of us lounged on cus.h.i.+ons and seats. We threaded our way up the new pond, winding between clumps of trees, now in broad moonlight, now in deepest shade. The shower had swept over to the northeast, just one dark flounce of its skirt reaching to the zenith. A cool breeze suddenly sprang up from the west, stirred by the suction of the receding storm, and a roar came from the trees on the hilltops.
”Better run for port,” said Jim; ”I'd hate to have Mr. Barr-Smith suffer s.h.i.+pwreck where the charts don't show any water!”
As we ran down the open way, the remark seemed less and less of a joke.
The gale poured over the hills, and struck the boat like the buffet of a great hand. She heeled over alarmingly, b.u.mped upon a submerged stump, righted, heeled again, this time s.h.i.+pping a little sea, and then the sharp end of a hidden oak-limb thrust up through the bottom, and ripped its way out again, leaving us afloat in the deepest part of the lake, with a spouting fountain in the middle of the vessel, and the chopping waves breaking over the gunwale. All at once, I noticed Cecil Barr-Smith, with his coat off, standing near Antonia, who sat as cool as if she had been out on some quiet road driving her pacers. The boat sank lower in the water, and I had no doubt that she was sinking. Antonia rose, and stretched her hands towards Jim. I do not see how he could avoid seeing this; but he did, and, as if abandoning her to her fate, he leaped to Josie's side. Cornish had seized _her_ by the arm, and seemed about to devote himself to her safety, when Jim, without a word, lifted her in his arms, and leaped lightly upon the forward deck, the highest and driest place on the sinking craft. Then, as everything pointed to a speedy baptism in the lake for all of us, we saw that the very speed of the wind had saved us, and felt the gondola b.u.mp broadside upon the dam.
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