For a while she lay in her chair, in happy,
dreamy pleasure at sun and bird and tree. Bles did not know yet that she
was down; but soon he would come searching, for he came each hour, and
she pressed her little hands against her breast to still the beating of
her heart and the bursting wonder of her love.
Then suddenly a panic seized her. He must not find her here--not here;
there was but one place in all the earth for them to meet, and that was
yonder in the Silver Fleece. She rose with a fleeting glance, gathered
the shawl round her, then gliding forward, wavering, tremulous, slipped
across the road and into the swamp. The dark mystery of the Swamp swept
over her; the place was hers. She had been born within its borders;
within its borders she had lived and grown, and within its borders she
had met her love. On she hurried until, sweeping down to the lagoon and
the island, lo! the cotton lay before her! A great white foam was spread
upon its brown and green; the whole field was waving and shivering in
the sunlight. A low cry of pleasure burst from her lips; she forgot her
weakness, and picking her way across the bridge, stood still amid the
cotton that nestled about her shoulders, clasping it lovingly in her
hands.
He heard that she was down-stairs and ran to meet her with beating
heart. The chair was empty; but he knew.
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