Rilla of the Lighthouse

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER XIX. THE OWNER OF THE BOX.

  They did not again visit the box in Treasure Cave. As he had planned,Gene had written a long letter to his sister telling her that he wasgetting strong and well, describing his interesting life on Windy Island,but Muriel, for some reason, he did not mention.

  He ended his epistle by telling his sister about the small steamer trunkwhich had been cast ashore by a storm and then asked if Helen had heard,lately, from Marianne Carnot. A week passed and no reply was received.Gene, growing every day more rugged and ruddy, had actually forgottenthat his sister had said if he did not return to New York to spend theholidays with her, that she would visit him.

  It was a glorious day, about a week before Christmas, and the air wasinvigoratingly cold. "I'll race yo' around the island on the beach,"Muriel called, as she and Gene started out for their customary morninghike when their tasks were finished.

  "You won't beat," the boy, whose laughing face was beginning to bronzefrom the sun and wind, shouted that his voice might be heard above thebooming of the surf on the rocks near.

  "Won't I?" Muriel turned merrily to defy him.

  "I snum you won't!" Gene liked to borrow words from the old sea captain'slingo now and then. "Nor will I, for that matter," the lad confessed."Shags will. Now, one, two, three, go!"

  Away they ran. Muriel was quickly in the lead, Shags bounding at herheels, and the lad a close third. When they reached the north end of theisland they found that the tide was high, which meant that they had toawait the receding of the waves before they could round the point on thesand. Luck was with Muriel, for when she reached the rocks there was aclear wet space ahead of her and around she darted, but Gene was held upwhile another breaker crashed in, and so, as they neared their finalgoal, the little wharf on the town side of the island, the girl was inthe lead.

  Her red-brown hair was blown, her cheeks were flushed, her eyessparkling, and as she whirled to exult over the lad, he thought he hadnever seen a more beautiful picture. He caught both of her hands, but hisbantering remark died as he stared at the dock back of Muriel, hardlyable to believe his eyes.

  "My sister Helen has come," he said in a low voice, "and someone is withher." Instantly he recognized the someone. It was Marianne Carnot.

  "I'll go back to the light," Muriel told him. "Yo're sister'll want tosee yo' alone, an' she won't care for the like o' me."

  Gene leaped to her side when the girl turned away. "Muriel Storm," hesaid, and there was a note of ringing sincerity in his voice, "you are aprincess compared to most girls. Come with me, please, to greet mysister."

  She went reluctantly. She recalled what he had told her about his motherwishing him to care for this French girl of wealth and family and hissister Helen would probably feel the same way. Perhaps they would not bekind to her. How she wanted to run up to the light to the sheltering armsof her grandfather. But Gene held her hand in a firm clasp until theyreached the top of the steps leading to the small wharf; then, releasingher, he went to greet the newcomers, turning at once to introduce Muriel.There was indeed a curling of the lips and a slight if almostimperceptible lifting of the eyebrows, but the "storm maiden" in Murielhad awakened, and it was with a proudly held head that she said: "MissCarnot, I'm that glad to be able to return yo're box, if 'tis yo'r'n."

  "It is indeed mine," Marianne replied haughtily. "I will bid the man whorowed us over to get it, if you will tell him where it is. Later youshall receive the reward which my father offered for the return of mytrunk."

  Muriel, her cheeks burning, was nevertheless about to comply when Geneleaped forward, saying: "I will show the oarsman where the trunk is,Rilla. You need not come."

  Luckily, at that moment the island girl heard her grandfather's voicebooming her name from the door of the light. Gene heard it, too, and hewas glad that it offered his "storm maiden" an escape from furtherhumiliation which he was powerless to prevent.

  Later, when the trunk had been placed in the boat, and when Marianne waslooking through its contents to be sure that nothing had been removed orruined, Helen took the opportunity of speaking alone with her brother.She was truly glad to note that his health had been restored and sheimplored him to return with her for the holidays.

  "Surely, brother," Helen said, "you are strong enough now, and since itwas to gain your strength that you came, why should you remain anylonger? Gladys and Faith told me not to return without you. They bothlike to dance with you, and Marianne, I know has been eager to see you.She is hurt, I can tell, because you pay her so little attention today."

  Then glancing toward the lighthouse, where Muriel was standing close toher grand-dad, Helen added in a lower voice: "Of course, I know there isnothing serious in this companionship, Gene, but what would our mothersay?"

  What, indeed!

  "Of course I shall be returning soon," was all that he would say, "as Iwant to be back at college by the beginning of the winter term." Genespent a long, thoughtful hour alone on the cliff when his sister and theproud Marianne were gone. Muriel was busy preparing the noon meal, butshe, too, was thoughtful. Her friend was well enough now to return to thecity and ought she not urge him to go? Just before the visitors had beenrowed over to Tunkett, Helen had ascended the flight of stairs leading tothe light, and, taking the hand of the girl who lived there, she hadsaid, almost pleadingly: "Won't you please advise my brother to come homefor the holidays? I can't stay with him here and it's going to be solonely for me with mother and father away. I would go to them, but thevacation at midwinter will be too short."

  There were tears in the eyes that looked at Muriel with the same frank,candid expression that was also her brother's.

  "I reckon he should be goin'," Muriel had answered. "I cal'late he'sstrong enough now, and he'll be wantin' to get back to college arter aspell."

  Helen had smiled her gratitude, and pressing the slim brown hand that sheheld in her own, that was gloved, she had said hurriedly: "Thank you,Miss Muriel. Please don't tell brother that I made this request. He mightfeel that I was interfering."

  Then she had added, "I know _our_ mother would wish it."

  Helen, ever considerate and kind, did not mean what Muriel believed thatshe did. There was a deep crimson flush in the cheeks of the island girl,but just at that moment Marianne had appeared at the top of the stairs tocoldly announce that she was ready to depart.

  "I'm coming," Helen had called. Then, because she was too much like herbrother not to ring true, she held out her hand again to Muriel and hadsaid most sincerely: "I want to thank you and your grandfather for havingdone so much toward restoring Gene's health. Goodbye."

  "I reckon I'll be glad when they're all gone," Muriel thought, the flushagain creeping to her cheeks. "If Grand-dad an' I aren't good enough tobe associated with I cal'late when Gene comes in, I'll tell him he mustbe goin'."

  A moment later she heard his clear, merry whistle as he rounded thehouse. To his surprise, when he entered the kitchen, she did not turn togreet him with her usual friendly smile.

  Had those girls made his "storm maiden" self-conscious? was his firstalmost wrathful thought. Throwing his cap to a chair near, he leaped tothe kitchen table, where the girl stood busily stirring a cornmealmixture for baking. The lad saw the flushed cheeks and at once heunderstood. Catching her hands, regardless of the spoon, he whirled herabout. "Storm Maiden," he said, "what did Marianne Carnot say that hashurt you?" He felt, as a brother might, he assured himself, a desire tofight the world to defend this girl. The quivering lips smiled just alittle.

  "She didn't say nothin'," Then Rilla added: "Gene, I've been ponderin'while yo've been out, an' I reckon yo'd better go back to the city now. Ical'late maybe--maybe----" How she dreaded to hurt him, but she haddecided that he must go, but she did not have to finish the sentence.

  Gene turned away and took up his cap. "Very well, Muriel," he said. "Ipromised to mind every command, and if this is one of them, I'll gotomorrow." Capt
ain Ezra secretly rejoiced when he heard that the lad wassoon to depart. It was hard for him to share his "gal." He liked Gene, tobe sure, better than he did any boy he had ever known. In fact, he hadn'tsupposed "city folk" could be so genuine; willing to clean fish or turn ahand to anything however commonplace. To be sure Doctor Winslow might becalled "city folks," for he had spent most of his time in New York fornearly thirty years, but when all was said, he was really a native ofTunkett.

  Muriel tried to laugh and chatter during the meal that followed, but Genefound it hard to do so. He was still feeling rebellious. He was so sureMarianne Carnot had hurt his "storm maiden."

  "She should have remained in Europe if she does not approve of Americandemocracy," his indignant thought was declaring. "But in Muriel she hasmet her superior," another thought championed, adding: "I hope the futurewill prove it and humiliate her snobbishness."

  After Gene's departure the delayed blizzard arrived with unusual fury.The mountainous waves crashed against the rocks as though determined toundermine the light, high on the cliff above them; but when each fuming,frothing wave had receded the tower, strong and unshaken, stood in themidst of driving hail and wet snow, but its efforts to shine were oflittle avail, for its great lamp could merely cast a halo of glow and asmall circle of light out into the storm.

  Woe to the mariners, if any there were, who went too near the Outer Ledgewhile the blizzard raged.

  "Rilly gal, I cal'late yer city friend got away jest in time," CaptainEzra said on the third day of the blizzard, which had continued withunabated fury. "It'd be tarnal risky navigatin' tryin' to cruise him overto Tunkett today, which was when he cal'lated leavin', wa'n't it, fustmate?"

  The old sea captain sat by the stove, smoking. It was warm and cheerfulin the kitchen, but with each fresh blast of wind the house shook, whilethe very island itself seemed to tremble now and then as an unusuallylarge wave crashed over it on the seaward side.

  Muriel turned to look out of the window toward the town, but all that shecould see was the grey, sleeting, wind-driven rain.

  Turning back into the warm kitchen, she took her darning basket and satnear the stove. After a thoughtful moment, she spoke: "I reckon thingsallays happen for the best," she began, "though it's hard for us to seeit that way jest at fust; but later on, we do. 'Pears thar's a plan,Grand-dad, and if so, then thar's Some-un doin' the plannin'. If wereally believe that, then we won't be worryin' and frettin' about howthings'll turn out; we'll jest be content, _knowin'_ that somehow they'recomin' out for the best."

  The keen grey eyes of the old man were intently watching the girl, who,all unconscious of his scrutiny, sat with red-brown head bent over herdarning.

  "I cal'late yo're right, fust mate," he said at last. "It makes thev'yage seem a tarnal lot safer if yo're sure thar's a skipper in commandthat's not goin' to let yo' wreck yer craft on the rocks. Like be you'llsail in purty rough waters sometimes, but I cal'late thar's allays abeacon light shinin' clear and steady through the storm o' life, waitin'to guide you to a safe harbor if yo're watchin' for it and willin' to beguided."

  Then the grey eyes of Captain Ezra began to twinkle. "Rilly gal," hesaid, "I reckon Parson Thompkins over to Tunkett'd think we was tryin' tohave a meetin' without him presidin' at it."

  The girl smiled across at the old man whom she loved. Then, rolling twosocks together, she arose to prepare the noon meal.

  The captain tilted back his chair. "The sermon now bein' concluded," heannounced, "it's time for the singin'."

  In a clear, sweet voice Muriel sang his favorite of the meeting-househymns. Peace and joy were within that humble home while the tempest ragedwithout. But that night, when she was snug in her bed in her room overthe kitchen, Muriel lay awake for a long time listening to the roar ofthe storm and the crash of the surf and tried to picture what her friendGene was doing at that hour.

  But his world was not her world and the island girl could not evenimagine the gayety into which Helen and Gladys and Faith had lured himthat New Year's Eve.