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A scream from “the shack” stopped further quotations. Billy ran up the hill to learn the trouble. Only Evelyn was there in the little house built, half of boards, half of willow twigs woven lattice-wise, against a huge smooth rock. Beside this rock also ascended a cobble chimney; and the fireplace, roughly plastered, served its purpose well. Billy had made it all, and Edith wished the house fireplace would draw as well. “Bully fer you, ’s Gordon,” shouted the excited Moses leaping furiously. “Keep her goin’. Ole Dan Tucker jist fits that toon.” Confusion followed. Harry was struck with a great fear. Was she dead? He had never seen a girl do so before. Would they hang him?.

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“It’s time Billy was at home,” he heard his mother say as he opened her room door; and he stumbled on more hurriedly, across the bridge—at last, the Fo’castle! “Lady of the Lake?” she finished quickly in a question. “Do you know that, too? I love it.” The best amusement of the hours of imprisonment was planning for the performance of “The Lady of the Lake.” Nothing definite, except that it was to be out of doors, had unfolded till now, when irksome leisure and May Nell’s quick mind together bore fruit. “Jiminy! I’ll have time in the morning,” he said aloud, and hurried on, not slackening his speed till he came to a sharp turn that took the road against the face of a rugged mountain. He hid his wheel and can in a tangle of rose vine and snowdrop, and stood out on the edge of the steep bluff that overhung the rushing river. There bloomed the island. Near the centre a rocky point was aflame with gorgeous poppies; and Billy could smell the fragrance of the snowy wild heliotrope,—pop-corn the children called it..