“Yes,” said I, and did so. It contained just two words (Helena afterward said she had not time to write more while Auntie Lucinda might be in from the other stateroom).[A]
“Well, what’s it say, dash you!” demanded Cal Davidson. “Play fair now—I told, and so must you!”
“I’m damned if I do, Cal!” said I, and put it in my pocket. But I shook hands with him most warmly, none the less....
FOOTNOTE:
[A] (Those interested may find them later in the text.[B])
CHAPTER XLI
IN WHICH IS MUCH ROMANCE, AND SOME TREASURE, ALSO VERY MUCH HAPPINESS
WE walked on slowly up the hill together, my friend Calvin Davidson and myself, following the parti-colored group now passing out of sight behind the shrubbery. At last we paused and sat down on one of the many seats that invited us. Around us, on the great lawn, were many tropic or half-tropic plants, and the native roses, still abloom. Yonder stood the old bronze sun-dial that I knew so well—I could have read the inscription, I Mark Only Pleasant Hours; and I knew its penciled shadow pointed to a high and glorious noon.... It seemed to me that Heaven had never made a more perfect place or a more perfect day; nor, that I am sure, was ever in the universe a world more beautiful than this, more fit to swing in union with all the harmony of the spheres.... I had fought so long, I had been so unhappy, had doubted so much, had grown so sad, so misanthropic, that I trust I shall be forgiven at this sudden joy I felt at hearing burst on my ears—albeit a chorus of Edouard’s mocking-birds hid in the oaks—all the music of the spheres, soul-shaking, a thing of joy and reverence.... So I spoke but little.