[CHAPTER XIII.]

LEN.

"Dear Love, I am grown mad with gazing long
Into thy eyes, moveless, and ever sweet;
Upon thy lips that never smile and greet;
That rule my soul and make my passion strong."

Len Lawson had suddenly become a rich man. By that strange chance which seems to favor some men, and by his own prompt action in seizing the opportunity, the boatman, whose whole wealth consisted previously of a twenty-foot keel sail-boat, had now become the owner of an opal mine. With the ready money with which Winslow had paid him off he was able to secure the right to work the mine and make the foundation of his fortune. The stone proved to be exceptionally good, and though in a small vein it was easily worked and needed no expensive machinery to remove it. Two New York houses bought all the stone he could get, and Len was soon in possession of a large bank account. All this occurred in a very few days, for on the first shipment of stone he had more money than he had ever dreamed of in his most sanguine moments of hope and anticipation.

With the acquisition of wealth the sullen manner of the boatman changed to the arrogant and insolent attitude of the man of riches and power. Yet the riches did not bring him happiness or comfort, and the power he did not know how to use.

In his hopeless passion for Marie he became at times so violent as to lose the friendship of Pierre, and to sever his connection altogether with Bluff Castle and its inmates.

After the novelty of the feeling that he was a rich man had worn off, his mind turned back to the two subjects which took all his attention, and which were never forgotten, the awful expectation of the water curse, and his love for the Acadian's daughter.

The entrance of Marie into the life of Len Lawson had increased the effect the fear of the curse had upon him. While he had lived for himself alone, before he fully realized what his affection for the beautiful girl meant to him, he was not so haunted by the thing as when he came to years of thought and manhood. He looked upon it now as an obstacle to the greatest desire of his life, and he believed that but for it he would be in a much stronger position in regard to Marie. It dwelt with him every day of his life. Since the changes of the last few weeks he brooded upon it to the exclusion of everything else; while with the intensity of his feelings his jealous hatred and vindictive anger were increased as well. His very independence induced the later development of his mixed emotions. He had known of the strange curse set upon his name, and from boyhood had become familiar with it. He had seen the effect of it upon his father. He had been led to believe it might also be his fate to come under its bane when he had reached maturity. Familiarity had lessened the horror of it while it affected him only. But now that it was affecting others, and in a way that most seriously concerned the future of his life, he looked upon it in a different way. He saw in it more than a curse on his life. He knew it to be the death of his greatest hope, and equal to death itself.

This later feeling came when he had been admitted to a more intimate relationship with the Gotros, and had come to look upon Marie as the passion of his life. He had known her from childhood, and after his manhood had come to him he had begun to appreciate the difficulty of the position he held as a would-be lover. Yet the more this difficulty became apparent, the more ardor it gave his passion. What the last developments had done for him as well as for Marie we have already seen. By his own efforts to better his cause he cut himself off altogether from privileges which he had previously enjoyed.

In Marie herself important and sudden changes had taken place. She had become another being. The indifference of the light-hearted girl gave place to the more highly sensitive nature of the woman. The arrival of Winslow at Pierre Island, and the effect of his personality upon the life of the young woman, had at a stroke severed all possible intimacy between Len and her, and for all time. They were no longer children and could not do with the things of childhood. In Marie had developed the secret but strong love of her heart; and with it a sensitiveness which made her avoid such things as had been lightly regarded by the girl. In the man had sprung into life propensities for evil, and harshness of manner and speech, which, with a lack of refinement and education, put the young man in a very unfavorable light. He erred in placing so much value upon force and the advantage of a certain power which wealth gave him. At last love in the one had brought with it elevation of thought and sensitiveness of heart; in the other passion had sunk to the depths of half-despair and half hatred, and required but little to turn the whole current of his energy to love or hatred.