Aaron Trow | Page 8

is with us, though the daylight does not depart suddenly,
leaving the darkness of night behind it without any intermediate time of
warning, as is the case farther south, down among the islands of the
tropics. But the soft, sweet light of the evening had waned and gone,
and night had absolutely come upon her, while Anastasia was still
seated before the cottage with her eyes fixed upon the white streak of
motionless sea which was still visible through the gloom. She was
thinking of him, of his ways of life, of his happiness, and of her duty
towards him. She had told him, with her pretty feminine falseness, that
she could wait without impatience; but now she said to herself that it
would not be good for him to wait longer. He lived alone and without
comfort, working very hard for his poor pittance, and she could see,
and feel, and understand that a companion in his life was to him almost
a necessity. She would tell her father that all this must be brought to an
end. She would not ask him for money, but she would make him
understand that her services must, at any rate in part, be transferred.
Why should not she and Morton still live at the cottage when they were
married? And so thinking, and at last resolving, she sat there till the
dark night fell upon her.
She was at last disturbed by feeling a man's hand upon her shoulder.
She jumped from her chair and faced him,--not screaming, for it was
especially within her power to control herself, and to make no utterance
except with forethought. Perhaps it might have been better for her had
she screamed, and sent a shrill shriek down the shore of that inland sea.
She was silent, however, and with awe- struck face and outstretched
hands gazed into the face of him who still held her by the shoulder. The
night was dark; but her eyes were now accustomed to the darkness, and
she could see indistinctly something of his features. He was a low-sized
man, dressed in a suit of sailor's blue clothing, with a rough cap of hair
on his head, and a beard that had not been clipped for many weeks. His
eyes were large, and hollow, and frightfully bright, so that she seemed
to see nothing else of him; but she felt the strength of his fingers as he
grasped her tighter and more tightly by the arm.

"Who are you?" she said, after a moment's pause.
"Do you know me?" he asked.
"Know you! No." But the words were hardly out of her mouth before it
struck her that the man was Aaron Trow, of whom every one in
Bermuda had been talking.
"Come into the house," he said, "and give me food." And he still held
her with his hand as though he would compel her to follow him.
She stood for a moment thinking what she would say to him; for even
then, with that terrible man standing close to her in the darkness, her
presence of mind did not desert her. "Surely," she said, "I will give you
food if you are hungry. But take your hand from me. No man would lay
his hands on a woman."
"A woman!" said the stranger. "What does the starved wolf care for that?
A woman's blood is as sweet to him as that of a man. Come into the
house, I tell you." And then she preceded him through the open door
into the narrow passage, and thence to the kitchen. There she saw that
the back door, leading out on the other side of the house, was open, and
she knew that he had come down from the road and entered on that side.
She threw her eyes around, looking for the negro girls; but they were
away, and she remembered that there was no human being within
sound of her voice but this man who had told her that he was as a wolf
thirsty after her blood!
"Give me food at once," he said.
"And will you go if I give it you?" she asked.
"I will knock out your brains if you do not," he replied, lifting from the
grate a short, thick poker which lay there. "Do as I bid you at once. You
also would be like a tiger if you had fasted for two days, as I have
done."
She could see, as she moved across the kitchen, that he had already

searched there for something that he might eat, but that he had searched
in vain. With the close economy common among his class in the
islands, all comestibles were kept under close lock and key in the house
of Mr. Bergen. Their daily