He emerged in a rushy bay where a dory lay tied to a pier of two planks. Beside it the water rippled with the fins of a string of fish. Doubtless the light-keeper was on the island and would give him shelter.
He entered the bushes again to make his way to where he could see the lamp-house. Presently he perceived the tall white pole carrying the plated lamp, and another step brought him within sight of the house itself.
He paused, standing in a clump of fireweed. He was all bright with the flowers, and straight as if at attention, and unconsciously pressing his cap to his heart. There he stood, his auburn hair getting wet, and noted that the door was open, and thought that nobody was there.
But he was mistaken, for suddenly a girl rose from the doorsill. She stood with parted lips as if gazing at one risen from the dead. Then she suddenly advanced toward him.
“Are you one of Horatio’s friends?”
He smiled and shook his head.
“Please forgive me. I thought you had come from across the river. We have never met any of his buddies. He was only a private—”
“But he was your brother.”
She burst into tears and hid her face in her hands.
He advanced through the fireweed and put his arm round her shoulders. She quickly got control of herself and looked up at him, smiling through her tears, and for a single second he looked deep into her eyes.