Villard struggled with his emotions after Winifred Barbour had bared the great secret he so longed to unravel, while she, in sympathy, buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Villard's mood was so like her own that he dared not try to comfort her. He had no words with which to soothe, nor power to check the sorrow and joy that mingled within his own bosom. He simply stood by, resolutely restraining his emotion, until he had mastered it—then walked away until the new Winifred had composed herself.
On his return he lifted her into his arms and kissed her cheeks and lips, and beautiful dark brown hair.
"You are my Winifred, now," he whispered, hoarsely. "God has willed it so—and your dear mother in Heaven has sanctioned it. My dead Winifred is yourself, incarnate. I shall keep and guard you during all of my remaining days on earth. You will become mistress of Dreamy Hollow, and we will share all blessings as long as we each shall live."
Taken by storm, Winifred's eyes opened wide in astonishment, but she made no answer. If in her secret heart she had ever thought of a marriage proposal, it was not of the kind that had just been spoken. But Villard was a law unto himself and he took Winifred's hand into his own, and together they strolled along the wooded path leading toward the ever wonderful beach. This path was seldom used because of its density of foliage and the low hung branches of the trees and bushes. At last they came upon the sands where the waters pounded and the roar of the sea beyond the bar spoke messages from far away lands.
And there they halted, each mind in deep contemplation of the other, while gazing far out where the blue sky and the waters of the deep merged with the shadows of a waning day. As yet the answer had not been spoken, but the love of the man was fast winning the heart of the girl. The verdict seemed not far away.
CHAPTER X. THE NURSE TAKES A CHANCE
Parkins' escape from death owed itself to a surgeon's skill, the operation upon his head having been successful. Now he sat up in bed, after seven days at the Sawyer home. He talked very little, but the furtive roving of his eyes during his wakeful hours denoted his mental activity. Aside from the injuries to his head, all harmful results had disappeared. The wound on his scalp was rapidly closing up, and according to the surgeon, would never be noticed, owing to the dense growth of his hair. Roached back and parted nearer the middle, the wound would be obscured. According to both doctors, another week would find him strong enough to walk about the grounds, but Parkins secretly knew that he had plenty strength with which to escape. He had no way of knowing Villard's views concerning him, but he was aware that Updyke only visited places where something unusual was going on. He could feel without seeing the Villard satellites—minions of the law!—they were unremitting. So far as they could prevent there would be no chance for his escape.
One thing Parkins had done well. He had made a fast friend of his day nurse. By degrees he had won her confidence, until finally he asked her if she would not prefer a good salary as his housekeeper rather than slave on as a nurse.