Rallying what courage I had left, I knelt down and kissed my sister, my poor sister. For a moment I let her stroke my carroty hair, which she liked. Then I ran to hurry my people to bring the beef tea, the hot water, the bandages. I found that wretched nurse detaining Billy and the Chinaman, with some pretense that I must not be disturbed. I was telling her to get out of my sight, to go to her bed, when a revolver-shot rang through the echoing house.
Polly had crawled to the door-step, found her revolver. She who gave everything in life, had given me back to Jesse, and lay dead, her forehead shattered in with the revolver-shot. For some seconds Billy and I hung back, watching from the doorway while a slow coil of smoke unfolded in the wan light of the dawn. The rain had ceased, and the east was all aglow with golden radiance.
Billy knelt and touched the poor broken forehead, then looking up at me, "This time," he said, "it's real."
EPILOGUE
Once more with Jesse in Cathedral Grove! The breath of evening stirred its tangled coral, the long needles clustered in globes were swaying as censors sway, with heavy incense. Beyond the purple night swept up over glowing cliffs to where the upper forest like an edge of flame burned against deeps of sky.
"Come to the hilltop: blackbird choristers
Peal their clear anthem to the kneeling gorse."
Jesse lay dreaming while I sang to him. Crisp silvered hair, and the deeply graven lines of his dear face, gave him at rest a sweet sad dignity; but presently he would look up, his big mouth humorous, his eyes alight with fun, a man of commanding power matured in wisdom, in sympathy, and valor to lead his fellows.
Through the east window of the grove, I could see a little procession of my closest friends pass on their Sunday stroll. First came Pete, ill at ease in his Sabbath suit of blacks, and with him, arm in arm, was Mrs. Pete in silk, full-skirted, prickly, and so very grim. Then Billy passed slowly by, his mother stumping beside him, bound to keep the pace. They had the new rabbit with them, collared and chained like a bulldog, and were followed by David's nurse, dear Patsy, Billy's wife—plucking my young anemones—the wretch!
Out on the perilous edge of Apex Rock I could see young Mr. Nisted, Father Jared's nephew, a pupil in Jesse's school of colonial training. With rod and line he was seriously fishing—for birds!