The Triumph of Virginia Dale Part 56

The moonbeams bathed the meadow and the pond in their soft light. They silvered the great bowlder left by some glacier upon the edge of this inland water. On a depression in its side sat Joe, and Virginia was at his side. Before them stretched the shadowed mirror of the pond.

Opposite loomed the tree clad hill in misty gloom. The moon clothed its summit in a mantle of light, reflected the tree-broken sky line in delicate tracery upon the water below, and pushed a shining pathway to their feet.

The spell of the night held the girl. It seemed wrong to speak aloud.

"Listen, Joe," she whispered, "the world is asleep." From the hill came the sound of a cow bell sweetened by distance. Except for this and the crickets all was still. "It's not a bit lonely," she sighed.

"No, not nearly as lonely as South Ridgefield after you left," he agreed.

"Did you miss me?" She was watching the pond.

He stole a glance at the curves of her face and the flash of her eyes. It seemed to him that never since the beginning of time could there have been such another. He had lured a spirit of the night to a seat beside him. "I nearly died of loneliness," he answered.

"You poor boy." Her voice was rich in tenderness. "Loneliness is dreadful, Joe. I don't want you to feel that way." Surely this was a nymph who had stolen forth to give him sympathy.

"I was miserable every moment after you left," he told her pathetically.

She turned her face to him, wonderful in its mysterious moonlight beauty.

"Joe," she pleaded, "you must not be sad. Knowing me must not bring unhappiness to you."

"You must never leave me again, Virginia. When I am away from you I can't be happy." Now the blue eyes were drawing a marvelous power of enchantment from the moonbeams, and the black eyes were reflecting the wonder of it. Under the charm of it, he dropped his cane.

With a little cry of tenderness she tried to catch it. Losing her balance she fell towards him. He caught her in his arms, and the only other cloud in all the heavens that night drifted before the moon and the world darkened. Yet, on this old rock, lips touched and love blazed and hearts whispered words of gladness.

The cloud pa.s.sed on and the beams fell upon Serena, who had come forth upon the stoop of the Dale kitchen for a breath of fresh air. She raised her eyes to the great orb hanging high above her. Its light displayed a look of great happiness and contentment upon her black face as she whispered into the night, "Praise be! Ma honey chil' is er comin'

home. De ole man done conquah de evil spi'it which to'ment 'im. Dat fool Ike done heard de warnin' dat come lak er cry in de night, an'

join de chu'ch. _n.o.body home, Mr. Devil._"

THE END