They began their homeward way to the boat, wandering a little still, for flowers, and stopping to pick them, so that the sun was quite low before Kildeer river was reached. There Mr. Linden stood a moment looking about.

"Do you see the place where we sat, Faith?" he said,--"over on the other bank?"

She looked, and looked at him and smiled--very different from her look then! A glance comprehensive and satisfactory enough without words, so without any more words they went on their way along the sh.o.r.e of the river. As they neared their boat, the rays of the setting sun were darted into Kildeer river and gilded the embayed little vessel and all the surrounding sh.o.r.es. Rocks and trees and bits of land glowed or glistened in splendour wherever a point or a spray could catch the sun; the water in both rivers shone with a long strip of gold. They had had nothing so brilliant all day.

In the full glow and brightness Faith sat down in the boat with her flowers near her, and Mr. Linden loosened the sail. How pretty the bank looked as they were leaving it! the ashes of their fire on the rock, and the places where they had sat or wandered, and talked--such happy words!

"I shall always love Kildeer river," said Faith with little long breath, "because I read my letter here."

"And so shall I," said Mr. Linden,--"but my love for it dates back to the first piece of reading I ever did in its company." He looked back for a minute or two--at the one sh.o.r.e and the other--the sunlight, the trees, the flowery hillside, and it was well then that his face was not seen by Faith--there fell on it such a shadow of pain. But he presently turned to her again with just the former look.

"Now," he said, "do you think you can steer home in the twilight?"

"I don't know. Can I? I can follow directions."

"And I can give them."

And with that arrangement they ran out from the clean woody sh.o.r.es of Kildeer river, and set their sail for Pattaqua.s.set. How fair, at that point of weather and day! a little quieter than the morning spring-tide of everything, but what was less gay was more peaceful; and against a soft south wind the little boat began to beat her way down, favoured however by the tide. These tacks made Mr. Linden's counsels more especially needed, but the short swift runs back and forth across the river were even more inspiriting than a steady run before the wind, and the constant attention which helm and sail required made talk and action lively enough.

"This is good, Endecott!" said Faith as the little boat came about for the fifth or sixth time.

"Faith," he said, smiling at her, "you look just as fresh as a rose!--the day does not seem to have tired you one bit."

"Tired!" she said,--"yes, I am a little bit tired--or hungry--but was there ever such a day as we have had?--since the first of January!"

"My dear little Mignonette!" Mr. Linden said--but if it was a "message"

Faith had then, it came from somewhere nearer than across the water.

"If you are tired, dear child, give up the rudder to me, and lay down your head and rest. Do you see after what a sleep-inviting fashion the lights are twinkling all down the sh.o.r.e?"

"I'm not sleepy a bit;" said Faith,--"nor tired, except just enough; and I like this small portion of power you have put in my hands. How beautiful those lights look!--and the lights overhead, Endy. How beautiful every thing is!"--

"Yes," said Mr. Linden, "when there is light within.--

'He that hath light within his own clear breast, May sit i' the centre and enjoy bright day.'"

"That's beautiful!" said Faith after a pause.

And now the brush and stir of "coming about" again claimed their attention, and in a minute more they were stretching away on a new tack, with another set of constellations opposite to them in the sky.

The breeze was fresh, though as mild as May; the boat made good speed; and in spite of beating down the river the mouth of the Mong was neared fast. Pattaqua.s.set lights, a little cl.u.s.ter of them, appeared unmistakably; for down by the point there was a little knot of houses, variously concerned in trade or fisheries. Mr. Linden had to put his hand upon the tiller sometimes then, till they got in. Mr. Skip and Jerry were in waiting; had been, "a sight o' half hours," the former stated. Baskets and shad and pa.s.sengers were transferred to the wagon, and within a moderate time thereafter welcomed (the latter) by Mrs.

Derrick and supper--wherein, after a little delay therefor, the shad played a conspicuous and most satisfactory part.

Now there are no shad like the shad that come out of the Mong.

CHAPTER XVI.

So pa.s.sed the days. Not indeed all at Kildeer river, but all in sweet, peaceful, bright occupations, whether of work or play. The trustees had received their notice, with much dismay; a little alleviated by the fact that Mr. Linden was willing to stay at his post for a few weeks after the end of the year.

It was almost a wonder, as the weeks went on, that Mr. Linden kept down the shadows as well as he did,--to leave Faith in the morning, and go to his devoted set of scholars--every one of whom had some particular as well as general hold on him and love for him; and then to get away by the hardest from their words and looks of sorrow and regret, and come back to the presence of her brave little face--Mr. Linden was between two fires. And they wrought a sort of deepening of everything about him which was lovely or loveable--which did not make it easier for Pattaqua.s.set to let him go.

As far as anybody could be a help to him, Faith was one. In a gentleness of spirit that was of no kin to weakness, she took to her heart the good that she had, and was quite as much of a sunbeam as ever. How it would be when Mr. Linden was gone, Faith did not know; but she did know that that was one of to-morrow's cares, with which she had no business to-day. If the thought ever came up in its strength, strong enough to bring down her heart and head,--if there were times when Faith shewed herself to herself--the revelation was made to no other person. And therefore it is probable that it was a view she did not often indulge in.

Dr. Harrison was not much at Pattaqua.s.set these days He found it convenient to be away.

Dr. Harrison was a man who did not like to throw away his ammunition.

He by no means absented himself because of any failing in his fancy for somebody in Pattaqua.s.set; the working of cause and effect was on a precisely opposite principle. The truth was, the fancy had grown to a strength that would not well bear the doubtful kind of intercourse which had been kept up between the parties; yet doubtful it remained, and must remain for the present. With Mr. Linden there in the family; with the familiar habits that naturally grow up between hostess and guest, friend and friend, fellow inmates of the same house--it was very difficult for the doctor to judge whether those habits had any other and deeper groundwork. It was impossible, with his scanty and limited chances of observation. At the same time there was too great a possibility--his jealousy called it more,--for him to be willing to take any forward and undoubtful steps himself. He did not find sea-room to put in his oar. In this state of things, all that his pride and his prudence would suffer him to do, was to wait--wait till either by Mr.

Linden's stay or departure the truth might be made known. But to abide in Pattaqua.s.set and watch patiently the signs of things, was more than Dr. Harrison's feeling,--for it was far more than fancy,--could bear.

Just now, in despair or disgust, he had taken a longer enterprise than usual; and was very far indeed from Pattaqua.s.set when the news of Mr.

Linden's going set all the country in a flame. So, greatly to Faith's satisfaction, he could not for some time be there to add any flame of his own.

The morning readings with Mr. Linden were great and chief treasures to her all these days. She was always ready for him before six o'clock.

Not now in a firelit room, with curtains drawn against the cold; but in the early freshness of the spring and summer mornings, with windows open and sweet air coming in. Duly Faith noted every "ladder of verses"--till her Bible grew to be well dotted with marks of red ink.

They looked lovely to her eyes. So they might; for they were records of many very deep and sweet draughts from that well of water which the word is to them that love it; draughts deeper and sweeter than Faith could have drawn by herself--or she thought so. No quarter of an hour in the day Faith loved so well. It was often more.

One morning the "ladder" began with the silver trumpets made for the service of G.o.d in the hands of the priests of Israel. Faith, looking quietly out of the window, went roving in thought over the times and occasions Mr. Linden read of, when their triumphal blast had proclaimed the name and the glory of G.o.d in the ears of the thousands of Israel; times of rejoicing, of hope, of promise and of victory. Scenes of glory in the old Jewish history floated before her--with the sublime faith of the actors in them, and the magnificent emblematic language in which they read the truth. Faith only came fairly back to New England and Pattaqua.s.set at David's declaration--

"Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound; they shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance."

The words thrilled her. She thought of the many who had never heard the sound at all; and entered into Isaiah's foresight of a day when "the great trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come that were ready to perish in the land of a.s.syria, and the outcasts in the land of Egypt."--

"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good; that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy G.o.d reigneth!"

Then came Isaiah's own blast of the trumpet, and then the sweet enlargements and proclamations of the gospel, and the Lord's own invitation to all who are "weary and heavy laden." But also--

"How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher? and how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!"--

"And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."

Faith sat by the open window, no sound abroad but the stir in the leaves and the low music of birds. The very still peace without, rather seemed to heighten and swell the moving of thoughts within, which surged like the sea. Mr. Linden stopped reading and was silent; and so was she, with nothing of all this appearing otherwise than in the fixed, abstracted look which went out into Pattaqua.s.set but also went far beyond. And when she spoke, it was earnestly and with the same clear quiet.

"Endy--I am _glad_ to have you go, for the reason you are going for. I wouldn't have you be anything else than what you mean to be,--not for the pleasure of having you here."

Her voice did not tremble, though indeed it told of feelings that were less a.s.sured.

"Dear Faith!" Mr. Linden said, with a bright flash of pleasure at her words, which changed even while he spoke, "you do not know what a comfort it is to me to feel that! And do you realize, little Sunbeam, what joy it is, that however far apart we can still work together--in the same cause, for the same master? The work which I take upon me by name, belongs as really to you,--for the call should be given by every one that heareth to every one that is athirst."

"I know--" she said quietly. "How grand those words are you have been reading!"

"Faith," Mr. Linden said presently, "have you any special attachment to this particular little Bible?"

"I have my red notes in it," she said with a bright smile.