Part 27 (2/2)

”I shall be very proud to see it drawn, and to read the poem if it is as sweet as this. I think I like your songs better than Shakespeare's.”

”What a compliment! It is I who am proud now. How beautiful it is up here; one feels like a bird on this airy perch. Tell me what those places are that look so like celestial cities in this magical light?”

Willingly she obeyed, and standing at her side he listened, feeling the old enchantment creep over him as he watched the girl, who seemed to glow and brighten like a flower at the coming of the sun. Nor did the charm lie in her beauty alone; language, mien, and manner betrayed the native refinement which comes from birth and breeding, and, despite her simple dress, her frank ways, and the mystery that surrounded her, Southesk felt that this lighthouse-keeper's daughter was a gentlewoman, and every moment grew more interested in her.

Presently he professed a desire to sketch a picturesque promontory not far distant; and, seated on the step of the narrow door, he drew industriously, glancing up now and then at Ariel, who leaned on the bal.u.s.trade turning the pages of her book with her loveliest expression, as she read a line here and there, sung s.n.a.t.c.hes of the airs she loved so well, or paused to talk, for her companion wasted little time in silence. Place, hour, and society suited him to a charm, and he luxuriated in the romance and the freedom, both being much enhanced by the strong contrast between this hour and those he had been spending among the frivolous crowds at the great hotel. He took no thought for the future but heartily enjoyed the present, and was in his gayest, most engaging mood as he feasted his eyes on the beauty all about him while endeavoring to copy the graceful figure and spirited face before him.

Quite unconscious of his purpose she pored over the book, and presently exclaimed, as she opened on a fine ill.u.s.tration of the Tempest- ”Here we all are! Prospero is not unlike my father, but Ferdinand is much plainer than you. Here's Ariel swinging in a vine, as I've often done, and Caliban watching her as Stern watches me. He is horrible here, however, and my Caliban has a fine face, if one can get a sight of it when he is in good humor.”

”You mean the deformed man who glowered at me as I landed? I want much to know who he is, but I dare not ask, lest I get another lesson in good manners,” said Southesk, with an air of timidity belied by his bold, bright eyes.

”I'll tell you without asking. He is the lighthouse-keeper, for my father only helps him a little, because he likes the wild life. People call him the master, as he goes to the mainland for all we need instead of Stern, who hates to be seen, poor soul.”

”Thank you,” returned Southesk, longing to ask more questions, and on the alert for any hint that might enlighten him regarding this peculiar pair.

Ariel went back to her book, smiling to herself, as she said, after a long look at one figure in the pictured group- ”This Miranda is very charming, but not so queenly as yours.”

”Mine!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Southesk, with as much amus.e.m.e.nt as surprise. ”How do you know I have one?”

”She came here to look for you,” stealing a glance at him from under her long lashes.

”The deuce, she did! When-how? Tell me about it, for, upon my honor, I don't know who you mean,” and Southesk put down his pencil to listen.

”Yesterday a boatman rowed a lady down here, and though the steep path and the ladder rather daunted her at first, she climbed up, and asked to see the lighthouse. Stern showed it, but she was not soon satisfied, and peered about as if bent on searching every corner. She asked many questions, and examined the book for visitors' names, which hangs below. Yours was not there, but she seemed to suspect that you had been here, and Stern told her that it was so. It was not like him, but he was unusually gracious, though he said nothing about father and myself, and when she had roamed up and down for a long time, the lady went away.”

”Was she tall and dark, with fine eyes and proud air?” asked Southesk, with a frown.

”Yes; but I thought she could be very sweet and gentle when she chose, she changed so as she spoke of you.”

”Did she see you, Ariel?”

”No; I ran away and hid, as I always do when strangers come; but I saw her, and longed to know her name, for she would not give it, so I called her your Miranda.”

”Not she! Her name is Helen Lawrence, and I wish she was-” He checked himself, looking much annoyed, yet ashamed of his petulant tone, and added, with a somewhat disdainful smile-”less inquisitive. She must have come while I was in the city searching for your book, but she never breathed a word of it to me. I shall feel like a fly in a cobweb if she keeps such close watch over me.”

”Why did she think you had been here? Did you tell her?” asked Ariel, looking as if she quite understood Miss Lawrence's motive in coming, and rather enjoyed her disappointment.

”That puppy, Dr. Haye, who dressed my arm, and found your handkerchief on it, made a story out of nothing, and set the gossips chattering. The women over yonder have nothing else to do, so a fine romance was built up, founded on the wounded arm, the little handkerchief, and the pretty chain, of which Haye caught a glimpse. Miss Lawrence must have bribed old Jack to tell her where I'd been, for I told no one, and stole off to-day so carefully that I defy them to track me here.”

”Thank you for remembering that we did not wish to be disturbed; but I am sorry that you have been annoyed, and hope this handsome Helen will not come again. You think her handsome, don't you?” asked the girl, in the demure tone that she sometimes used with much effect.

”Yes; but she is not to my taste. I like spirit, character, and variety of expression in a face more than mere beauty of coloring or outline. One doesn't see faces like hers in one's dreams, or imagine it at one's fireside; it is a fine picture-not the image of the woman one would live and die for.”

A soft color had risen to Ariel's cheek as she listened, wondering why those few words sounded so sweet to her. Southesk caught the fleeting emotion, and made the likeness perfect with a happy stroke or two. Pausing to survey his work with pleasure, he said low to himself- ”What more does it need?”

”Nothing-it is excellent.”

The paper fluttered from his hand as a man's voice answered, and turning quickly, he saw March standing behind him. He knew who it was at once, for several times he had pa.s.sed on the beach this roughly-dressed, stern-faced man, who came and went as if blind to the gaiety all about him. Now, the change in him would have greatly surprised his guest had not his interviews with Ariel prepared him for any discovery, and when March greeted him with the air and manner of a gentleman, he betrayed no astonishment, but, giving his name, repeated his desire to sketch the beauties of the island, and asked permission to do so. A satirical smile pa.s.sed over March's grave face, as he glanced from the paper he had picked up to the bare cliffs below, but his tone was very courteous as he replied- ”I have no right to forbid any one to visit the island, though its solitude was the attraction that brought me here. But poets and painters are privileged; so come freely, and if your pen and pencil make it too famous for us we can emigrate to a more secluded spot, for we are only birds of pa.s.sage.”

”There shall be no need of that, I a.s.sure you, sir. Its solitude is as attractive to me as to yourself, and no word or act of mine shall destroy the charm,” Southesk spoke eagerly, adding, with a longing glance at the paper which March still held: ”I ventured to begin with the island's mistress, and, with your permission, I will finish it as you p.r.o.nounce it good.”

”It is excellent, and I shall be glad to bespeak a copy, for I've often tried to sketch my will-o'-the-wisp, but never succeeded. What magic did you use to keep her still so long?”

”This, father,” and Ariel showed her gift, as she came to look over his shoulder, and smile and blush to see herself so carefully portrayed.

Southesk explained, and the conversation turning upon poetry, glided smoothly on till the deepening twilight warned the guest to go, and more than ever charmed and interested, he floated homeward to find Miss Lawrence waiting for him on the beach, and to pa.s.s her with his coolest salutation.

From that day he led a double life-one gay and frivolous for all the world to see, the other sweet and secret as a lover's first romance. Hiring a room at a fisherman's cottage that stood in a lonely nook, and giving out that he was seized with a fit of inspiration, he secluded himself whenever he chose, without exciting comment or curiosity. Having purchased the old couple's silence regarding his movements, he came and went with perfect freedom, and pa.s.sers-by surveyed with respectful interest the drawn curtains behind which the young poet was believed to be intent on songs and sonnets, while, in reality, he was living a sweeter poem than any he could write far away on the lighthouse tower, or hidden in the shadowy depths of Ariel's nest. Even Helen was deceived, for, knowing that hers were the keenest eyes upon him, he effectually blinded them for the time by slowly changing his former indifference to the gallant devotion which may mean much or little, yet which is always flattering to a woman, and doubly so to one who loves and waits for a return. Her society was more agreeable to him than that of the giddy girls and blase men about him, and believing that the belle of several seasons could easily guard the heart that many had besieged, he freely enjoyed the intercourse which their summer sojourn facilitated, all unconscious of the hopes and fears that made those days the most eventful of her life.

Stern was right; the young man could not see Ariel without loving her. For years, he had roamed about the world, heart-free; but his time came at last, and he surrendered without a struggle. For a few weeks he lived in an enchanted world, too happy to weigh consequences or dread disappointment. There was no cause for doubt or fear-no need to plead for love-because the artless girl gave him her heart as freely as a little child, and reading the language of his eyes, answered eloquently with her own. It was a poet's wooing; summer, romance, beauty, innocence and youth-all lent their charms, and nothing marred its delight. March watched and waited hopefully, well pleased at the success of his desire; and seeing in the young man the future guardian of his child, soon learned to love him for his own sake as well as hers. Stern was the only cloud in all this suns.h.i.+ne; he preserved a grim silence, and seemed to take no heed of what went on about him; but, could the cliffs have spoken, they might have told pathetic secrets of the lonely man who haunted them by night, like a despairing ghost; and the sea might have betrayed how many tears, bitter as its own billows, had been wrung from a strong heart that loved, yet knew that the pa.s.sion never could be returned.

The mystery that seemed at first to surround them no longer troubled him, for a few words from March satisfied him that sorrow and misfortune made them seek solitude, and shun the scenes where they had suffered most. A prudent man would have asked more, but Southesk cared nothing for wealth or rank, and with the delicacy of a generous nature, feared to wound by questioning too closely. Ariel loved him; he had enough for all, and the present was too blissful to permit any doubts of the past-any fears for the future.

So the summer days rolled on, sunny and serene, as if tempests were unknown, and brought, at last, the hour when Southesk longed to claim Ariel for his own, and show the world the treasure he had found.

Full of this purpose, he went to his tryst one golden August afternoon, intent on seeing March first, that he might go to Ariel armed with her father's consent. But March was out upon the sea, where he often floated aimlessly for hours, and Southesk found no one but Stern, busily burnis.h.i.+ng the great reflectors until they shone again.

”Where is Ariel?” was the young man's second question, though usually it was the first.

”Why ask me, when you know better than I where to find her,” Stern answered harshly, as he frowned over the bright mirror that reflected both his own and the happy lover's face; and too light-hearted to resent a rude speech, Southesk went smiling away to find the girl, waiting for him in the chasm.

”What pretty piece of work is in hand, to-day, busy creature?” he said, as he threw himself down beside her with an air of supreme content.

”I'm stringing these for you, because you carry the others so constantly they will soon be worn out,” she answered, busying herself with a redoubled a.s.siduity, for something in his manner made her heart beat fast and her color vary. He saw it, and fearing to agitate her by abruptly uttering the ardent words that trembled on his lips, he said nothing for a moment, but leaning on his arm, looked at her with lover's eyes, till Ariel, finding silence more dangerous than speech, said hastily, as she glanced at a ring on the hand that was idly playing with the many-colored sh.e.l.ls that strewed her lap, ”That is a curious old jewel; are those your initials on it?”

”No, my father's;” and he held it up for her to see.

”R. M., where is the S. for Southesk?” she asked, examining it with girlish curiosity.

”I shall have to tell you a little story all about myself in order to explain that. Do you care to hear it?”

”Yes, your stories are always pleasant; tell it, please.”

”Then, you must know that I was born on the long voyage to India, and nearly died immediately after. The s.h.i.+p was wrecked, and my father and mother were lost; but, by some miracle, my faithful nurse and I were saved. Having no near relatives in the world, an old friend of my father's adopted me, reared me tenderly, and dying, left me his name and fortune.”

”Philip Southesk is not your true name, then?”

”No; I took it at my good old friend's desire. But you shall choose which name you will bear, when you let me put a more precious ring than this on the dear little hand I came to ask you for. Will you marry Philip Southesk or Richard Marston, my Ariel?”

If she had leaped down into the chasm the act would not have amazed him more than the demonstration which followed these playful, yet tender words. A stifled exclamation broke from her, all the color died out of her face, in her eyes grief deepened to despair, and when he approached her she shrunk from him with a gesture of repulsion that cut him to the heart.

”What is it? Are you ill? How have I offended you? Tell me, my darling, and let me make my peace at any cost,” he cried, bewildered by the sudden and entire change that had pa.s.sed over her.

”No, no; it is impossible. You must not call me that. I must not listen to you. Go-go at once, and never come again. Oh, why did I not know this sooner?” and, covering up her face, she burst into a pa.s.sion of tears.

”How could you help knowing that I loved you when I showed it so plainly-it seemed hardly necessary to put it into words. Why do you shrink from me with such abhorrence? Explain this strange change, Ariel. I have a right to ask it,” he demanded distressfully.

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