Soon after that another scene came up. Veale had been drinking hard all day, and at night was fairly intoxicated. As Cathrin came into the cave, her head crowned with evergreen, and her hands full of flowers, she heard the merry, musical laugh, which she well knew came from none but Harris, immediately followed by a volley of oaths, such as she seldom heard. “I can drink wine and not suffer for it in that style,” he said, “and why cannot you? Come, get up, now, or by the powers, I will run you through--do you hear?” and he brandished his glittering sword in true buccaneer style. Veale was lying upon the floor of the cave, apparently not too insensible to carry on the joke. Cathrin shrunk trembling away, and commenced clearing the tea-table. Her presence did not act as a controlling influence, as Arabel’s had. The men are willing to do anything in reason for the merry girl, however, and the life she led at the cave was not altogether intolerable. Months passed, and a little stranger opened his eyes and claimed protection. “Who will be thy mother, darling?” Cathrin said, pleasantly, for she thought she would soon be a spirit. But things were differently ordered. It was not long before she was out again, at night-fall, watching for the arrivals. And now again pictures, darker and more gloomy, arise before our parti-colored glass. It was early one bright, autumn morn that Cathrin was kneeling by the spring, splashing the cool water over the flowers she had gathered, to keep them fresh, when she heard a low, stifled, wailing cry from the beautiful couch, where she had left the child. When she reached it, Veale was walking slowly down the mountain path, and the babe lay gasping for breath in the sunlight. All the long day did Cathrin chafe the marble brow and tiny hands of the insensible child, and at night, when the men returned, she was still holding it in her arms. Harris looked pityingly upon her, and she laid the little form beside him on the silken couch. But the bright-eyed stranger’s life had fled. Cathrin was childless.