All night the tempest raged. Marguerite, in the midst of all her private trouble, was sleepless with anxiety for the fate of the little vessel she had left. But for Philip, a navy might have been engulfed, and he remained unconcerned by anything aside from his own domestic wrong. The next morning the terrible devastation of the storm was revealed in the torn forests, prostrate fences and ruined crops. Early Marguerite, with her spyglass, was on the lookout at the balcony of her chamber window, that was immediately over the bay window of the parlor, and commanded a magnificent sea view. And soon she had the relief of seeing the poor little bark safely sheltered in Wicomia inlet. With a sigh of gratitude, Marguerite turned from that instance of salvation to face her own doubtful, if not dangerous, prospect. Philip Helmstedt, since bringing her safely to the house, had not noticed her by word or look. He remained silent, reserved, and gloomy—in a mood that she dreaded to interrupt, lest she should again rouse him to some repetition of his fury on the boat; but in every gentle and submissive way she sought to soothe, accepting all his scornful repulses with the patience of one offending where she loved, yet unable to do otherwise, and solicitous to atone. It was difficult to resist the pleading eyes and voice of this magnetic woman, yet they were resisted.
In this constrained and painful manner a week passed, and brought the first of June, when Colonel Houston and his family came down to their seat at Buzzard’s Bluff. Mr. and Mrs. Helmstedt were seated at their cold, tête-à-tête breakfast table when Nellie’s messenger, Lemuel, came in with a note announcing her arrival at home, and begging her dearest Marguerite, as the sky was so beautiful and the water so calm, to come at once and spend the day with her.
The mournful face of Marguerite lighted up with a transient smile; passing the note across the table to Mr. Helmstedt, she said:
“I will go,” and then rang the bell and directed Forrest, who answered it, to conduct the messenger into the kitchen, give him breakfast, and then get the boat Nereide ready to take her to Buzzard’s Bluff. The man bowed and was about to leave the room, when Mr. Helmstedt looked up from his note and said, “Stop!”
Forrest paused, hat in hand, waiting in respectful silence for his master’s speech. After a moment, Mr. Helmstedt said:
“No matter, another time will do; hasten to obey your mistress now.”
The two men then withdrew, and Mr. Helmstedt turned to his wife, and said:
“Upon second thoughts, I would not countermand your order, madam, or humble you in the presence of your servants. But you cannot leave this island, Mrs. Helmstedt.”
“Dear Philip—Mr. Helmstedt! what mean you?”
“That you are a prisoner! That you have been such since your last landing! and that you shall remain such—if it be for fifty years—do you hear?—until you choose to clear up the doubt that rests upon your conduct!”