The King of Beaver, and Beaver Lights | Page 5

When my task
is done, let me out!"
He turned and left her, as if this had been a benediction on their
meeting, and went from the garden as he usually went from the
Tabernacle. Emeline's heart and eyes seemed to overflow without any
volition of her own. It was a kind of spiritual effervescence which she
could not control. She sobbed two or three times aloud, and
immediately ground her teeth at his back as it passed out of sight. Billy
and Roxy were so free from the baleful power that selected her. They
could chat in peace under the growing darkness, they who had home
and families, while she, without a relative except those on Beaver
Island, or a friend whose duty it was to shelter her, must bear the shock
of that ruinous force.
The instinct that no one could help her but herself kept her silent when
she retired with Roxy to the loft-chamber. Primitive life on Beaver
Island settled to its rest soon after the birds, and there was not a sound
outside of nature's stirrings till morning, unless some drunken
fishermen trailed down the Galilee road to see what might be inflicted
on the property of sleeping Mormons.

The northern air blew fresh through gable windows of the attic, yet
Emeline turned restlessly on her straw bed, and counted the dim rafters
while Roxy slept. Finally she could not lie still, and slipped cautiously
out of bed, feeling dire need to be abroad, running or riding with all her
might. She leaned out of a gable window, courting the moist chill of the
starless night. While the hidden landscape seemed strangely dear to her,
she was full of unspeakable homesickness and longing for she knew
not what--a life she had not known and could not imagine, some perfect
friend who called her silently through space and was able to lift her out
of the entanglements of existence.
The regular throbbing of a horse's feet approaching along the road at a
brisk walk became quite distinct. Emeline's sensations were suspended
while she listened. From the direction of St. James she saw a figure on
horseback coming between the dusky parallel fence rows. The sound of
walking ceased in front of the house, and presently another sound crept
barely as high as the attic window. It was the cry of a violin, sweet and
piercing, like some celestial voice. It took her unawares. She fled from
it to her place beside Roxy and covered her ears with the bedclothes.
Roxy turned with a yawn and aroused from sleep. She rose to her
elbow and drew in her breath, giggling. The violin courted like an angel,
finding secret approaches to the girl who lay rigid with her ears
stopped.
"Cousin Emeline!" whispered Roxy, "do you hear that?"
"What is it?" inquired Emeline, revealing no emotion.
[Illustration: Brother Strang serenading 134]
"It's Brother Strang serenading."
"How do you know?"
"Because he is the only man on Beaver who can play the fiddle like
that." Roxy gave herself over to unrestrained giggling. "A man fifty
years old!"

"I don't believe it," responded Emeline, sharply.
"Don't believe he is nearly fifty? He told his age to the elders."
"I haven't a word of praise for him, but he isn't an old man. He doesn't
look more than thirty-five."
"To hear that fiddle you'd think he wasn't twenty," chuckled Roxy. "It's
the first time Brother Strang ever came serenading down this road."
He did not stay long, but went, trailing music deliciously into the
distance. Emeline knew how he rode, with the bridle looped over his
bow arm. She was quieted and lay in peace, sinking to sleep almost
before the faint, far notes could no longer be heard.
From that night her uncle Cheeseman's family changed their attitude
towards her. She felt it as a withdrawal of intimacy, though it expressed
reverential awe. Especially did her Mormon aunt Mahala take little
tasks out of her hands and wait upon her, while her legal aunt looked at
her curiously. It was natural for Roxy to talk to Billy Wentworth across
the fence, but it was not natural for them to share so much furtive
laughter, which ceased when Emeline approached. Uncle Cheese-man
himself paid more attention to his niece and spent much time at the
table explaining to her the Mormon situation on Beaver Island, tracing
the colony back to its secession from Brigham Young's party in Illinois.
"Brother Strang was too large for them," said her uncle. "He can do
anything he undertakes to do."
The next Saturday Emeline refused to go to the Tabernacle. She gave
no reason and the family asked for none. Her caprices were as the
gambols of the paschal lamb, to be indulged and overlooked. Roxy
offered