peeping through the branches, and then back again to the group about me.
The Rev. Timothy soon let his pipe go out, and succumbed as his wife had
done, for he had worked hard and eaten well. Sangree, also smoking,
leaned against a tree with his gaze fixed on the girl, a depth of
yearning in his face that he could not hide, and that really distressed
me for him. And Joan herself, with wide staring eyes, alert, full of the
new forces of the place, evidently keyed up by the magic of finding
herself among all the things her soul recognised as "home," sat rigid by
the fire, her thoughts roaming through the spaces, the blood stirring
about her heart. She was as unconscious of the Canadian's gaze as she
was that her parents both slept. She looked to me more like a tree, or
something that had grown out of the island, than a living girl of the
century; and when I spoke across to her in a whisper and suggested a
tour of investigation, she started and looked up at me as though she
heard a voice in her dreams.

Sangree leaped up and joined us, and without waking the others we three
went over the ridge of the island and made our way down to the shore
behind. The water lay like a lake before us still coloured by the
sunset. The air was keen and scented, wafting the smell of the wooded
islands that hung about us in the darkening air. Very small waves
tumbled softly on the sand. The sea was sown with stars, and everywhere
breathed and pulsed the beauty of the northern summer night. I confess I
speedily lost consciousness of the human presences beside me, and I have
little doubt Joan did too. Only Sangree felt otherwise, I suppose, for
presently we heard him sighing; and I can well imagine that he absorbed
the whole wonder and passion of the scene into his aching heart, to
swell the pain there that was more searching even than the pain at the
sight of such matchless and incomprehensible beauty.