Hampton gave a cry of fright and rose to her feet. His forehead was marked with blood, and the face of the girl following him was as white as death.

CHAPTER XXI

EBEN COMES ASh.o.r.e

As John and Jess made their way slowly down to the sh.o.r.e their hearts were free and happy. They were together, and that was all sufficient.

Everything in nature was in harmony with their feelings. Birds chirped and flitted about them; b.u.t.terflies zigzagged here and there, and bees hummed industriously among the flowers. The air was balmy, and a gentle breeze drifted in from the west. Jess stopped and looked out upon the river with kindling eyes.

"Oh, what a glorious day," she remarked. "It is so good to be in a place such as this."

"I am glad you like it," John replied, as he glanced at the bright face by his side. "I wish you could stay here always."

"So do I. The country suits me better than anywhere else."

"You would miss the city life, would you not, if you lived here all the year?"

"What would I miss in the city? A continual round of social events, of which I am more than tired, and going here and there in a vain effort to find happiness. I long to be free in the highest sense, and not to be chained to a system which to me is deadening."

"You certainly put your belief into practice when you ran away from home. I am glad you do not regret it."

"No, I have not the least regret. If I felt that my parents are mourning for me I would feel badly. But they treated me so cruelly in trying to force me to marry the man I hate, that I do not care how they feel."

"But suppose they find out where you are and compel you to go home?"

"They may find me, but they cannot make me go back. I have tasted the joy of freedom from their rule, and shall henceforth think and act for myself. You may consider me ungrateful, but if you knew what my life has been like you would not blame me."

They had reached the border of a grove of small trees, and here in an old fence wild flowers flourished in abundance and ran riot over the moss-covered poles. Jess stooped, picked a wild rose, and inhaled its sweet fragrance. John, watching, thought he had never beheld a more perfect picture of beauty, grace and maidenly charm. His soul thrilled within him, and moving impulsively forward, he took the rose from her hand, and placed it gently in her hair. He smiled as he stepped back to view the effect.

"Excuse me," he apologised, "but I could not help it. That is the place for the rose; it makes you look great."

Then he caught her by the hand and led her down the narrow path which led to the water. Nearby stood a large tree, with great outspreading branches, and under this they stopped, John's heart was beating fast, while the girl's face almost equalled the rose in colour. The world and its cares were forgotten as they stood there on that bright summer afternoon. They were living in a world of their own, for love had cast its mystic charm over their young lives.

"Why need you leave this place?" John suddenly asked. "Why not stay here always? I want you, and must have you? Would you not be happy here with me?"

He was still holding her hand, which he now pressed more firmly than ever. How he longed to take the girl in his arms, and imprint a kiss upon her rosy lips. He wanted to confess to her his great love, and to hear her tell of hers. But she did not at once reply. Her face, from which some of the colour had fled, was turned toward the river, and her hand trembled.

"Don't you know that I love you?" John impetuously insisted. "Can't you feel it in my every word and act? I love you as I never believed it possible to love any woman."

Then Jess looked into his eyes, and the expression the young man saw there filled his heart with joy.

"You do love me," he cried, "and you will be mine. Oh, tell me so!"

"Yes, John, I do love you," Jess slowly replied. "I love you more than words can tell. But we must wait a while. I am a runaway girl, you know, and I must not bring disgrace upon your family."

"Disgrace! I do not understand you. How could you bring disgrace upon mother and me?"

Jess smiled as she gently freed her hand, and plucked a leaf from the branch of a small tree. This she twirled in her fingers, and then tore it into bits, dropping each piece separately upon the ground.

"There is my answer," she said, in a voice that was low but full of emotion. "What I have done to that innocent leaf people will do to me when they find out what I have done. They will not spare me any more than I have spared that leaf. They will take my life and rend it asunder bit by bit. They will hear about my experiences on the 'Eb and Flo'; that a mishap befell me at the quarry; that I was taken away in the dead of night, and kept hidden by a young man so that my parents could not find me. I know what construction they will put upon all this, and no matter how much I might explain it will make no difference. I will be looked upon as a girl who has gone astray, and will be held in contempt by all. Oh, I know how it will be, for I remember how people talked about a girl who did something not half so daring as mine, and she was never forgiven. Her character was torn into shreds by cruel tongues."

"But what has all this to do with our love?" John asked. "I don't care what people say. In fact, I will face the whole world, and if I hear anyone breathe a word against you it won't be well for him."

"I know you would do what you could, John, but not likely you would ever have the chance. What could you do against the many conversations where my name and deed will be introduced. And in what a subtle manner judgment will be p.r.o.nounced, 'Poor girl; isn't it too bad?' 'How hard on her parents!' That is the way most people will refer to me, though some will express their views in no uncertain language. I have heard it before, and know just what to expect."

"But, Jess, why need we care what they say?" John insisted. "We can be happy together. Our love will make up for everything else."

"Yes, I know that, John. But until this storm blows over, and I am condemned and forgotten it is better for us to remain just as we are.

I must get away from here and do something."

"You're not going to leave, Jess. You must stay right here."

But the girl shook her head. Her face was very serious, and her eyes shone with the light of determination.

"I must go, John," she said. "Should my father find me here, he will make my life unbearable. He will try to force me to go back, and the only way to prevent that would be for me to do what people think I have already done." A tremour shook her body, and her eyes grew big with a nameless fear.

"Your father shall not take you back," John declared. "And you must not do what you suggest. That would be terrible! There is another way out of the difficulty, and you know what that is."

"Yes, I know, John. The captain spoke of it yesterday."

"He did! Good for him. He is a man of sense, all right. And won't you, Jess? We can get married, and then no one can take you from me."

Jess remained silent for a few minutes, with her face turned to the river, shimmering in the glow of eventide.

"We must wait, John," she at length replied. "We are both young yet, so there need be no hurry. Should we get married now, I know that my father would make every effort to separate us, even though I have the right to do as I please. He is a very determined man, and when he once makes up his mind it is almost impossible to stop him. When he finds out what I have done his anger will be great. But what would it be like should I marry you? No, we must wait. I shall go away and hide myself."

"You cannot do that, Jess. I am afraid you know very little about the world. Why, what could you do to make a living? You have been well educated, but what could you do to earn enough to live upon? You have always had plenty of money for all your needs; you have led a sheltered life, so you cannot understand the struggle it would mean to go out into the world to battle your own way. Now, is there one thing you could really do to earn a living?"

"I don't know, John," was the low reply. There were tears in the girl's eyes, for she realised that the words of advice were only too true, "I am afraid you are right. I did not look at it that way."

"I know you didn't, so that is why I have spoken so plainly. It would be cruel not to open your eyes and show you the difficulties ahead."

"What am I to do, then?" the girl asked, in a despairing voice. "We must not marry each other now. But what can I do? Where can I go?"

For a few minutes silence reigned, as the two stood there. John was thinking rapidly, and at last he turned to the girl with the light of a new idea shining in his eyes.

"I know what we can do," he told her. "We can hide you where your father cannot find you for some time. There is a place out in the hills where you can stay, and no one will have any idea where you are.

Mother can go with you, and it will do her so much good, for she needs to get away for a change. We have a nice cabin there, which father built. It is on a little island, in a beautiful lake, and I know you will enjoy the life. You see, we have a coal mine on the sh.o.r.e of the lake, and that is why father built the cabin. He used to live there for weeks at a time. But since his death it has been occupied but little; although I sometimes spend several days there when out hunting."

The expression in the girl's eyes showed her interest in John's words, and when he stopped she lifted her face to his.

"But what about you?" she asked. "How will you get along without your mother?"

"Oh, I shall live there, too, part of the time," John laughingly explained. "You will not get clear of me as easily as all that. I shall have to attend to the farm, but having the car, I can run out and back in a short time. Perhaps you will see too much of me when you and mother set up housekeeping in the wilderness."

"I think it will be splendid!" Jess exclaimed. "I have often wanted to live just such a life as you describe. And having your mother with me, and you visiting us often, what more could one ask?"