myself, who took him for better and for worse, just as he is, and not as I
should like him to be. So, Rachel, be as happy as you can, and make the
best of things, as I try to do, for your life is all before you, whereas
mine lies behind me, and yonder," and she pointed towards the place where
the infant was buried. "Hush! here he comes. Now, help me with the
packing, for we are to trek to the ford this afternoon."



CHAPTER IV

ISHMAEL


It may he doubted whether any well-born young English lady ever had a
stranger bringing-up than that which fell to the lot of Rachel Dove. To
begin with, she had absolutely no associates, male or female, of her own
age and station, for at that period in its history such people did not
exist in the country where she dwelt. Practically her only companions were
her father, a religious enthusiast, and her mother, a half broken-hearted
woman, who never for a single hour could forget the children she had lost,
and whose constitutional mysticism increased upon her continually until at
times it seemed as though she had added some new quality to her normal
human nature.

Then there were the natives, amongst whom from the beginning Rachel was a
sort of queen. In those first days of settlement they had never seen
anybody in the least like her, no one so beautiful--for she grew up
beautiful--so fearless, or so kind. The tale of that adventure of hers as
a child upon the island in the midst of the flooded torrent spread all