to
have him with me that I did not attempt to conceal my exultation. And
now he has gone, gone without a word to me; only this miserable letter
of determined farewell. I will copy it--for in my first anger I have
so crumpled the paper that it is scarcely readable.

"My child, I must go back to my island. The world is not for me, nor
am I for the world, nor would I cast the shadow of my gloomy life
further upon your bright one. Let me tell you, however, that you have
left me the better for your coming; that it will be a good thought to
me in my loneliness to know of your mother's daughters so close to me.
When you look across at the beacon of Scarthey, child, through the
darkness, think that though I may not see you again I shall ever
follow and keep guard upon your life and upon your sister's, and that,
even when you are far from Pulwick, the light will burn and the heart
of Adrian Landale watch so long as it may beat."

I have shed more tears--hot tears of anger--since I received this than
I have wept in all my life before. Madeleine came in to me just now,
too full of the happiness of having me back, poor darling, to be able
to bear me out of sight again; but I have driven her from me with such
cross words that she too is in tears. I must be alone and I must
collect myself and my thoughts, for I want to state exactly all that
has happened and then perhaps I shall be able to see my way more
clearly.

* * * * *

This morning then, early after breakfast, I started across the waters
between Rene and Sir Adrian, regretting to leave the dear hospitable
island, yet with my heart dancing within me, as gaily as did our
little boat upon the chopping waves, to be carrying the hermit back
with me. I had been deadly afraid lest he should at the last moment
have sent me alone with the servant; but when he put on his big cloak,
when I saw Rene place a bag at the bottom of the boat, I knew he
meant to come--perhaps remain some days at Pulwick, and my spirits
went up, up!

It was a lovely day, too; the air had a crisp, cold sparkle, and the
waters looked so blue under the clear, frosty sky. I could have sung
as we rowed along, and every time I met Sir Adrian's eye I smiled at
him out of the happiness of my heart. His look hung on me--we French
have a word for that which is not translatable, _Il me couvait des
yeux_--and, as every day of the three we had spent together I had
thought him younger and