That night the thick ice came, and the last vessels fled southward.
But in the lonely little castle there was joy; for the girl was saved,
barely, with fever, with delirium, with long prostration, but saved!
When weeks had passed, and she was in her low chair again, propped
with cushions, pallid as a snow-drop, weak and languid, but still
there, she told her story, simply and without comprehension of
its meaning.
'I could not rest that night,' she said, 'I know not why; so I dressed
softly and slipped past Orange asleep on her mattress by my door, and
found you both gone,--your father, and you, Jarvis. You never go out at
night, and it was very cold; and Jarvis had taken his bag and
knapsack, and all the little things I know so well. His gun was gone
from the wall, his clothes from his empty room, and that picture of
the girl holding up the fruit was not on his table. From that I knew
that something had happened; for it is dear to Jarvis, that picture of
the girl,' said Silver with a little quiver in her voice. With a
quick gesture Waring drew the picture from his pocket and threw it
into the fire; it blazed, and was gone in a moment. 'Then I went
after you,' said Silver with a little look of gratitude.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66