“I see deeper,” she said simply. “The Philip I thought dead is alive again. We were both dead, dearest, and now we are alive.”
It was then that Philip brought the little ring from his waistcoat pocket, and once more it was placed on Eweretta’s finger.
It was late when the lovers passed out of the house through the mist and the dripping bushes to the gate which led into the little wood.
A strange sense of mystery seemed to enwrap them. They were to know at last what lay within the carefully-guarded enclosure.
A lantern stood upon a slab of stone at the open door which was fixed in the high brick wall.
They entered, and saw. Within the walled enclosure was a roughly-built “shack,” or log cabin, in which a light was burning.
Alvin heard them and opened the door of the shack, inviting them to enter.
A lamp burned upon a roughly-constructed table in the one room, showing the meagre contents—a table, a chair and a bed. The bed was of rough boards nailed to the log-wall and, for a pillow, an old saddle did duty, aided by an old coat rolled up. A colored blanket and a rug made of tawny wolf-skins, home-sewn, completed the bed-furniture.
Alvin offered the one chair to Eweretta, requesting Philip to sit upon the bed. He himself sat on a block of wood somewhat like a “butcher’s block.”
In the full light of the lamp the young people saw the Colonial—really saw him as he was. He was wearing a shirt of dark flannel, open at the neck. He was also wearing “jumpers.”