Audrey

It was ten of the clock upon this same night when Hugon left the glebe

house. Audrey, crouching in the dark beside her window, heard him bid the

minister, as drunk as himself, good-night, and watched him go unsteadily

down the path that led to the road. Once he paused, and made as if to

return; then went on to his lair at the crossroads ordinary. Again Audrey

waited,--this time by the door. Darden stumbled upstairs to bed. Mistress

Deborah's voice was raised in shrill reproach, and the drunken minister

answered her with oaths. The small house rang with their quarrel, but

Audrey listened with indifference; not trembling and stopping her ears, as

once she would have done. It was over at last, and the place sunk in

silence; but still the girl waited and listened, standing close to the

door. At last, as it was drawing toward midnight, she put her hand upon

the latch, and, raising it very softly, slipped outside. Heavy breathing

came from the room where slept her guardians; it went evenly on while she

crept downstairs and unbarred the outer door. Sure and silent and light of

touch, she passed like a spirit from the house that had given her shelter,

nor once looked back upon it.

The boat, hidden in the reeds, was her destination; she loosed it, and

taking the oars rowed down the creek. When she came to the garden wall,

she bent her head and shut her eyes; but when she had left the creek for

the great dim river, she looked at Fair View house as she rowed past it on

her way to the mountains. No light to-night; the hour was late, and he was

asleep, and that was well.

It was cold upon the river, and sere leaves, loosening their hold upon

that which had given them life, drifted down upon her as she rowed beneath

arching trees. When she left the dark bank for the unshadowed stream, the

wind struck her brow and the glittering stars perplexed her. There were so

many of them. When one shot, she knew that a soul had left the earth.

Another fell, and another,--it must be a good night for dying. She ceased

to row, and, leaning over, dipped her hand and arm into the black water.

The movement brought the gunwale of the boat even with the flood.... Say

that one leaned over a little farther ... there would fall another star.

God gathered the stars in his hand, but he would surely be angry with one

that came before it was called, and the star would sink past him into a

night forever dreadful.... The water was cold and deep and black. Great

fish throve in it, and below was a bed of ooze and mud....