Could it be possible? Yes, there was Oliver Gates, dancing for joy, as he waved his hat and yelled like a savage; he had grown handsomer than ever, and looked stout and robust. Behind him stood Steele, his broad face wreathed in smiles, and leaning on his arm, his wife, stouter and more matronly than of yore, but still beautiful, a look of joy and welcome in her eyes. And Bobby, dear old fellow, yelling at me as though he would split his throat.
A little behind them there stood a larger group, old Sir Henry DeGray, Francis Drake, Bacon, Walter Raleigh, Sir William Stone, the little Doctor Robbins, and a score of other whilom friends, who cried out a hearty welcome as we neared them, and with wide open arms stood awaiting us.
I turned to Margaret with a joyful face, and met her azure eyes smiling into mine. Stretching out one of my tanned hands, I laid it upon her little white one, which rested lightly upon my arm. It fluttered for an instant like a little bird, and then lay quietly and trustfully in mine.
Behind me lay the river, its dark water rippling like the dead and forgotten past, with its pain and sorrow; before me stretched the bright sunshine and the greeting of my friends, like a prophecy of the joy to come. It seemed to reach out its welcoming hands, to draw us from the dim yesterday of travail and woe into the sunny to-day of happiness and light.
All the dark gloom was behind us, and naught but sunshine lay before. So, with her hand in mine, we passed together out of the shadow and into the light.
FINIS
The Tar Heel Library
