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The spring came slowly on, and the first boat that went out that seasonwas Eph's. That day was one of unmixed delight to him. What a sense ofabsolute freedom, when he was fairly out beyond the lightship, with thefresh swiftness of the wind in his face! What an exquisite consciousnessof power and control, as his boat went beating through the long waves!Two or three men from another village sailed across his wake. His boatlay over, almost showing her keel, now high out of water, now settlingbetween the waves, while Eph stood easily in the stern in hisshirt-sleeves, steering with his knee, smoking a pipe, heaving andhauling his line astern for bluefish.
She was profoundly moved by the tales of missionary labors proper. Shewas filled with joy to read that Miss Crofutt and her lieutenantssometimes cracked and broke away the formidable husks which envelopeddivine kernels in the hearts of some of the wretches, and she frequentlywept at the stories of victories gained over monsters whose defences ofsilence and stolidity had suddenly fallen into ruin above the slow butpersistent sapping of constant kindness. Acute tinglings and chillingthrills would pervade her entire body when she read that on Christmasevery wretch seemed to become for that day, at least, a gracious man;that the sight of a few penny tapers, or the possession of a handful ofsweet stuff, or a spray of holly, or a hot-house bloom, would appear toconvert the worst of them into children. Her heart would swell to learnhow they acted during the one poor hour of yearly freedom in theprison-yards; that they swelled their chests; that they ran; that theytook long strides; that the singers anxiously tried their voices, nowgrown husky; that the athletes wrestled only to find their limbs stiffand their arts forgotten; that the gentlest of them lifted their facesto the broad sky and spent the sixty minutes in a dreadful gazing at theclouds.
He thrust his hands into his pockets, but he hastily took them outagain. Still he said nothing and hung his head. It was while she was inthe mood of a conqueror that Miss Eunice went away. She felt a touch ofrepugnance at stepping from before his eyes a free woman, therefore shetook pains to go when she thought he was not looking.
When she emerged from the cool, shadowy, and frowning prison into thegay sunlight, she experienced a sense of bewilderment. The significanceof a lock and a bar seemed greater on quitting them than it had when shehad perceived them first. The drama of imprisonment and punishmentoppressed her spirit with tenfold gloom now that she gazed upon thebrilliancy and freedom of the outer world. That she and everybody aroundher were permitted to walk here and there at will, without question andlimit, generated within her an indefinite feeling of gratitude; and thenoise, the colors, the creaking wagons, the myriad voices, the splendidvariety and change of all things excited a profound but at the same timea mournful satisfaction.
Strange fortune that besets a man! The 20,000 franc paper is in my hand.I turn it. I look at it. Jane Stirling and her goodness haunt my gloom.She only asks to give. Strange, uncouth, Scotch lady! With thy heart ofgold, thy face of iron, and thy foot of lead! Thy francs lie heavy inmy hand. "Master," she writes my name. She only asks to give. But womenshould be gentle, with soft, dark eyes that thrill. The day has closed.I shall die free! 041b061a72