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Mrs. Keeler was advancing towards him now; advancing slowly like some massed avenging force of doom. "I didn't do that," he finally managed to articulate. "I didn't play no trick on you, Missus Keeler." And clapping her hands as though she was in the box of a theatre ravished by some transcendently fine performance, she once more delivered herself of the maniac laugh which had curdled Paul's blood and which though ringing from lips, though proceeding from a face hidden from him, seemed to strike[Pg 286] Mr Lawrence as nothing which she had spoken had, and save but for the swaying of the ship he stood as motionless as a statue facing another statue whose back was turned to him. "Lord forbid! She is too God-fearing, and too nobly and sweetly moulded as a woman to be capable of any such descent.".
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It was the family Bible. She had placed it there after reading her son Anson his evening chapter. Slowly she mastered herself and sank back into her chair. "When I saw the ship starting," said he, "I walked over to her and asked Mr Lawrence, who was standing right aft watching the crew working, making sail and so forth, what made him in such a hurry, and he answered that he had received news on the previous night of a French cruiser that was hovering over this part of the coast, that when last seen she was standing to the east'ard, and that he had made up his mind to sneak the Minorca out at daybreak if possible so as to have the heels of her should she shift her helm, as he had no mind to start his first voyage in Captain Acton's employ by being taken by a French cruiser and locked up for a time no man could detarmine." He knew why. She had told him. God, Destiny, Fate, had come between her and the man she loved. The man had lost more than life in playing the part of a man. He was blind! Behind him were only memories that could not be buried. Before him only darkness, bleakness, despair. And he had done an heroic thing in giving her up. Helpless, powerless to support her, what else was there for him to do? So, in his love for her, he had dug a grave and in it buried Hope and all that God in His wise ordinance had allowed him to live and feel. And they had kissed and parted, kneeling beside this grave, cold lips to cold lips, broken heart to broken heart. It was the kiss on the cross which each must carry. "We wondered what kept you fellers, so came lookin' fer you," spoke Tom Holt as they came up. "Thought you'd be comin' by the tamarack swamp trail, an' we stuck around there fer quite a while, waitin'. Then Elgin said maybe you had come the ha'nted house way, so we struck through the bush an' tried to pick up your trail. Once we thought we saw the ghost, but it turned out to be old Ringold's white yearlin' steer. It had rubbed up ag'inst some will-o-the-wisp fungus an' it fair showered sparks of blue fire. If we hadn't heered it bawlin' we'd have run sure.".
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