"Where was she going?" inquired Miss Hagar, alarmed.
"'Deed, I didn't mind to ax her, 'cause she 'peared in 'stress o' mind 'bout somefin or udder. I looked arter her, dough, an' seed her take de road down to de shore," replied Curly.
Still more perplexed and troubled by this strange and most unusual conduct on the part of Celeste, Miss Hagar seated herself at the breakfast-table, having vainly waited an hour past the usual time for the return of the young girl.
When Celeste left the cottage, it was with a mind filled with but one idea—that of seeing Louis once more before he left. But few people were abroad when she passed through the village; and descending to the beach, she seated herself behind a projecting rock, where, unseen herself, she could behold him going away.
Out on the glittering waves, dancing in the first rays of the morning sunlight, lay a schooner, rising and falling lazily on the swell. It was the vessel in which Gipsy had told her Louis was to leave St. Mark's, and Celeste gazed upon it, with that passionate, straining gaze, with which one might look on a coffin, where the one we love best is about to be laid. Hours passed on, but she heeded them not, as, seated on a low rock, with her hands clasped over her knees, she waited for his coming.
After the lapse of some time, a boat put off from the schooner, and, propelled by the strong arms of four sailors, soon touched shore. Three of them landed, and took the road leading to Mount Sunset. Half an hour passed, and they reappeared, laden with trunks and valises, and followed by Louis and Gipsy.
He seemed careless, even gay, while Gipsy wore a sad, troubled look, all unused to her. Little did either of them dream of the wild, despairing eyes watching them, as if her very life were concentrated in that agonizing gaze.
"Well, good-bye, ma belle," said Louis, with a last embrace. "You perceive my boat is on the shore, and my bark is on the sea, and I must away."
"Good-bye," repeated Gipsy, mechanically.
He turned away and walked toward the boat, entered it, and the seamen pushed off. Gipsy stood gazing after his tall, graceful form until the boat reached the schooner, and he ascended the deck. Then it danced away in the fresh morning breeze down the bay, until it became a mere speck in the distance, and then faded altogether from view.