My heart bounded as I limped down the steps. I smiled to myself, safe in the dark, sardonically. Make what you will of it, with other men she was strong, womanly, serene; with me, she had the sweet grace to show weakness.
The carriage bounded over the paving-stones and stopped at my hotel. The driver lifted his hat obsequiously. I, with sardonic smile, entered the hotel, where I was not unknown. No doubt was made as to the character of my apartments.
I rested sumptuously, but could not sleep.
"How was he now, who lay stricken yonder? Had he known her, or would those rare blue eyes be lifted to her too, unrecognizing, and so break her heart?"
Eyes once seen, to haunt one, the handsomest in form and color and expression that I had ever seen in human head.
Now I saw them again, as I had first seen them at the meeting in the Basin school-house; the firm, brown hand grasping the sailor's bonnet; eyes omnipotent with health and joy, casting their mischievous, beautiful glances over toward Vesty—she, patient, struggling, with her holy look!
And the Basin wind blew in through the cracked windows, and a bird flew upward:
"Softly through the storm of life,
Clear above the whirlwind's cry"—
It all resolved itself into that at last; the human voice crying upward, shivering, like the bird's flight; but with sure aim now!
I saw how it was at the first look at Vesty's face, when I called the next morning.