CHAPTER XXXIII.
HELEN'S strength was coming back to her but slowly; she complained ofgreat lassitude and want of appetite. But, the following day havingcleared up, the sun shone out with great power and brilliancy. She gladlywelcomed the return of the fine weather, but Hazel shook his head; tendays' rain was not their portion--the bad weather would return, andcomplete the month or six weeks' winter to which Nature was entitled. Thenext evening the appearance of the sky confirmed his opinion. The sun setlike a crimson shield; gory, and double its usual size. It entered into athick bank of dark violet cloud that lay on the horizon, and seemed tosplit the vapor into rays, but of a dusky kind; immediately above thiscrimson the clouds were of a brilliant gold, but higher they were thecolor of rubies, and went gradually off to gray.
But as the orb dipped to the horizon a solid pile of unearthly cloudscame up from the southeast; their bodies were singularly and unnaturallyblack, and mottled with copper-color, and hemmed with a fiery yellow. Andthese infernal clouds towered up their heads, pressing forward as if theyall strove for precedency; it was like Milton's fiends attacking the sky.The rate at which they climbed was wonderful. The sun set and the moonrose full, and showed those angry masses surging upward and jostling eachother as they flew.
Yet below it was dead calm.
Having admired the sublimity of the scene, and seen the full moon rise,but speedily lose her light in a brassy halo, they entered the hut, whichwas now the headquarters, and they supped together there.
While they were eating their little meal the tops of the trees were heardto sigh, so still was everything else. None the less did those strangeclouds fly northward, eighty miles an hour. After supper, Helen sat busyover the fire, where some gum, collected by Hazel, resemblingIndia-rubber, was boiling; she was preparing to cover a pair of poorWelch's shoes, inside and out, with a coat of this material, which Hazelbelieved to be water-proof. She sat in such a position that he couldwatch her. It was a happy evening. She seemed content. She had got overher fear of him; they were good comrades if they were nothing more. Itwas happiness to him to be by her side even on those terms. He thought ofit all as he looked at her. How distant she had seemed once to him; whatan unapproachable goddess. Yet there she was by his side in a hut he hadmade for her.
He could not help sipping the soft intoxicating draught her mere presenceoffered him. But by and by he felt his heart was dissolving within him,and he was trifling with danger. He must not look on her too long, seatedby the fire like a wife. The much-enduring man rose, and turned his backupon the sight he loved so dearly. He went out at the open door intendingto close it and bid her good-night. But he did not do so, just then; forhis attention as an observer of nature was arrested by the unusualconduct of certain animals. Gannets and other sea-birds were runningabout the opposite wood and craning their necks in a strange way. He hadnever seen one enter that wood before.
Seals and sea-lions were surrounding the slope, and crawling about, andnow and then plunging into the river, which they crossed with infinitedifficulty, for it was running very high and strong. The trees alsosighed louder than ever. Hazel turned back to tell Miss Rollestonsomething extraordinary was going on. She sat in sight from the river,and, as he came toward the hut, he saw her sitting by the fire reading.
He stopped short. Her work lay at her feet. She had taken out a letter,and she was reading it by the fire.
As she read it her face was a puzzle. But Hazel saw the act alone; and adart of ice seemed to go through and through him.
This, then, was her true source of consolation. He thought it was sobefore. He had even reason to think so. But, never seeing any palpableproofs, he had almost been happy. He turned sick with jealous misery, andstood there rooted and frozen.
Then came a fierce impulse to shut the sight out that caused this pain.
He almost flung her portoullis to, and made his hands bleed. But ableeding heart does not feel scratches.
"Good-night," said he hoarsely.
"Good-night," said she kindly.
And why should she not read his letter? She was his affianced bride,bound to him by honor as well as inclination. This was the reflection towhich, after a sore battle with his loving heart, the much-enduring manhad to come at last; and he had come to it, and was getting back hispeace of mind, though not his late complacency, and about to seek reposein sleep, when suddenly a clap of wind came down like thunder, andthrashed the island and everything in it.
Everything animate and inanimate seemed to cry out as the blow passed.
Another soon followed, and another--intermittent gusts at present, but ofsuch severity that not one came without making its mark.
Birds were driven away like paper; the sea-lions whimpered, and crouchedinto corners, and huddled together, and held each other, whining.
Hazel saw but one thing; the frail edifice he had built for the creaturehe adored. He looked out of his boat, and fixed his horror-stricken eyeson it; he saw it waving to and fro, yet still firm. But he could not staythere. If not in danger she must be terrified. He must go and supporther. He left his shelter, and ran toward her hut. With a whoop and ascream another blast tore through the wood, and caught him. He fell, dughis hands into the soil, and clutched the earth. While he was in thatposition, he heard a sharp crack; he looked up in dismay, and saw thatone of Helen's trees had broken like a carrot, and the head was on theground leaping about; while a succession of horrible sounds of crashing,and rending, and tearing showed the frail hut was giving way on everyside; racked and riven, and torn to pieces. Hazel, though a stout man,uttered cries of terror death would never have drawn from him; and, witha desperate headlong rush, he got to the place where the bower had been;but now it was a prostrate skeleton, with the mat roof flapping like aloose sail above it, and Helen below.
As he reached the hut, the wind got hold of the last of the four shrubsthat did duty for a door, and tore it from the cord that held it, andwhirled it into the air; it went past Hazel's face like a bird flying.
Though staggered himself by the same blow of wind, he clutched the treeand got into the hut.
He found her directly. She was kneeling beneath the mat that a fewminutes ago had been her roof. He extricated her in a moment, utteringinarticulate cries of pity and fear.
"Don't be frightened," said she. "I am not hurt."
But he felt her quiver from head to foot. He wrapped her in all her rugs,and, thinking of nothing but her safety, lifted her in his strong arms totake her to his own place, which was safe from wind at least.
But this was no light work. To go there erect was impossible.
Holding tight by the tree, he got her to the lee of the tent and waitedfor a lull. He went rapidly down the hill, but, ere he reached the river,a gust came careering over the sea. A sturdy young tree was near him. Heplaced her against it, and wound his arms round her and its trunk. Theblast came. The tree bent down almost to the ground, then whirled round,recovered, shivered; but he held firmly. It passed. Again he lifted her,and bore her to the boat-house. As he went, the wind almost choked her,and her long hair lashed his face like a whip. But he got her in, andthen sat panting and crouching, but safe. They were none too soon; thetempest increased in violence, and became more continuous. No clouds, buta ghastly glare all over the sky. No rebellious waves, but a sea hissingand foaming under its master's lash. The river ran roaring and foamingby, and made the boat heave even in its little creek. The wind, though itcould no longer shake them, went screaming terribly close over theirheads--no longer like air in motion, but, solid and keen, it seemed theAlmighty's scythe mowing down Nature; and soon it became, like turbidwater, blackened with the leaves, branches and fragments of all kinds itwhirled along with it. The trees fell crashing on all sides, and theremains passed over their heads into the sea.
Helen behaved admirably. Speech was impossible, but she thanked himwithout it--eloquently; she nestled her little hand into Hazel's, and, toHazel, that night, with all its awful sights and sounds, w
as a blissfulone. She had been in danger, but now was safe by his side. She hadpressed his hand to thank him, and now she was cowering a little towardhim in a way that claimed him as her protector. Her glorious hair blewover him and seemed to net him. And now and then, as they heard somecrash nearer and more awful than another, she clutched him quickly thoughlightly; for, in danger, her sex love to feel a friend; it is not enoughto see him near. And once, when a great dusky form of a sea-lion camecrawling over the mound, and whimpering peeped into the boathouse, sheeven fled to his shoulder with both hands for a moment, and was there,light as a feather, till the creature had passed on. And his soul wasfull of peace, and a great tranquillity overcame it. He heard nothing ofthe wrack, knew nothing of the danger.
Oh, mighty Love! The tempest might blow, and fill the air and earth withruin, so that it spared her. The wind was kind, and gentle the night,which brought that hair round his face, and that head so near hisshoulder, and gave him the holy joy of protecting under his wing the softcreature he adored.
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