foil.

'Surely somebody is on the column,' he said to himself, after gazing at
it awhile.

Instead of going straight to the Great House he deviated through the
insulating field, now sown with turnips, which surrounded the plantation
on Rings-Hill. By the time that he plunged under the trees he was still
more certain that somebody was on the tower. He crept up to the base
with proprietary curiosity, for the spot seemed again like his own.

The path still remained much as formerly, but the nook in which the cabin
had stood was covered with undergrowth. Swithin entered the door of the
tower, ascended the staircase about half-way on tip-toe, and listened,
for he did not wish to intrude on the top if any stranger were there. The
hollow spiral, as he knew from old experience, would bring down to his
ears the slightest sound from above; and it now revealed to him the words
of a duologue in progress at the summit of the tower.

'Mother, what shall I do?' a child's voice said. 'Shall I sing?'

The mother seemed to assent, for the child began--

'The robin has fled from the wood
To the snug habitation of man.'

This performance apparently attracted but little attention from the
child's companion, for the young voice suggested, as a new form of
entertainment, 'Shall I say my prayers?'

'Yes,' replied one whom Swithin had begun to recognize.

'Who shall I pray for?'

No answer.

'Who shall I pray for?'

'Pray for father.'

'But he is gone to heaven?'

A sigh from Viviette was distinctly audible.

'You made a mistake, didn't you, mother?' continued the little one.

'I must have. The strangest mistake a woman ever made!'

Nothing more was said, and Swithin ascended, words from above indicating
to him that his footsteps were heard. In another half-minute he rose
through the hatchway. A lady in black was sitting in the sun, and the
boy with the flaxen hair whom he had seen yesterday was at her feet.

'Viviette!' he said.

'Swithin!--at last!' she cried.

The words died upon her lips, and from very faintness she bent her head.
For instead of rushing forward to her he had stood still; and there
appeared upon his face a look which there was no mistaking.

Yes; he was shocked at her worn and faded aspect. The image he had
mentally carried out with him to the Cape he had brought home again as
that of the woman he was now to rejoin. But another woman sat before
him, and not the original Viviette.