“Fear of what?”
“I can’t tell. That’s the strangest part of it; for I know of no actual danger. Some sort of vague apprehension that now and then oppresses me—lies on my heart, making it heavy as lead—sad and dark as the shadow of that wicked bird upon the water. Ugh!” she exclaims, taking her eyes off it, as if the sight, suggestive of evil, had brought on one of the fear spells she is speaking of.
“If it were a magpie,” observes Ellen, laughingly, “you might view it with suspicion. Most people do—even some who deny being superstitious. But a kite—I never heard of that being ominous of evil. No more its shadow; which as you see it there is but a small speck compared with the wide bright surface around. If your future sorrows be only in like proportion to your joys, they won’t signify much. See! Both the bird and its shadow are passing away—as will your troubles, if you ever have any.”
“Passing—perhaps, soon to return. Ha! look there. As I’ve said!”
This, as the kite swoops down upon a wood-quest, and strikes at it with outstretched talons. Missing it, nevertheless; for the strong-winged pigeon, forewarned by the other’s shadow, has made a quick double in its flight, and so shunned the deadly clutch. Still, it is not yet safe; its tree covert is far off on the wooded slope, and the tyrant continues the chase. But the hawk has its enemy too, in a gamekeeper with his gun. Suddenly it is seen to suspend the stroke of its wings, and go whirling downward; while a shot rings out on the air, and the cushat, unharmed, flies on for the hill.
“Good!” exclaims Gwen, resting the oars across her knees, and clapping her hands in an ecstasy of delight. “The innocent has escaped!”
“And for that you ought to be assured, as well as gratified;” puts in the companion, “taking it as a symbol of yourself, and those imaginary dangers you’ve been dreaming about.”
“True,” assents Miss Wynn, musingly, “but, as you see, the bird found a protector—just by chance, and in the nick of time.”
“So will you; without any chance, and at such time as may please you.”
“Oh!” exclaims Gwen, as if endowed with fresh courage. “I don’t want one—not I! I’m strong to stand alone.”