How he had avoided the officers at the tower in carrying away the precious metal which he had secreted from time to time, I do not know, but they suspected nothing. I held utter silence about the incident, and if the people did connect the missing miner with his mysterious “accident,” what was there to do? They pitied me that he was simple. Shall I say it? Perhaps it was better so. A strange, new joy came to me, as every day I saw the pale eyes, innocent now as those of a child, follow me about with a grateful look. He was easily managed, and he seemed to cling to me with an affection that would atone for the long blank in the past.
I waited until the bitter Winter had gone by, and the first steamer came in the Summer.
What would become of us in the big, untried city? I had my youth, I had my health.
I stood upon the deck of the great vessel and saw this mere speck of land recede in the distance. Father, standing by my side, touched my arm, and holding out his open hand, said,—
“Pretty, pretty!”
There was a shell in it clean and white, and he looked up at me and smiled.
Yes, better so, it was better so!
He had gone there a man, strong and wicked. By the strange mysteries of Providence, he came from it a child, weak and innocent, with a soul white as the shell which for the moment he cherished in his simple delight.
When next I raised my eyes, only the cold waters of Lake Superior washed the horizon, and Silver Islet had vanished from my sight forever.
