He was down on the floor again, crouching at her feet. Isla looked round the room, with wild eyes of a trapped creature that sees death before it; she saw the grave wonder, the doubt and distress, in the faces of the two spectators; she saw the agony of pleading in the rugged, misshapen features of the fisherman. She looked,—ah! where else should she turn now for comfort? In the face of her little Jacob; Jacob, for whose dear sake she had borne and suffered all; to whom now, perhaps, she was bringing shame, punishment for her sin; for she never doubted its being a sin. Jacob was smiling, pleased and happy at seeing a face that he remembered well in the old days at home. Those days were growing dim now for Jacob, and the new life filled his little cup with joy and comfort. He looked happily up at his sister, but met her eyes all fierce and burning, saw her face drawn and distorted with pain. Jacob did not understand pain, and Isla looked dreadful. He shrank from her, and caught the hand that was next to him, the hand of the principal of the school, and nestled in her gown. When Isla Heron saw that, she threw out her arms, and cried aloud. “God!” she cried in her extremity. “God! God! where are you?” Then, with her bird-like motion, she swung out from among them, pushing aside the hands that would have held her, avoiding the kind arms that sought to stay her; out of the room, and down the stair, flying so light and swift that no one missed the wings; out of the room and down the stair; and, before any one could stir to follow her, they heard the front door open quickly, close lightly,—Isla was gone! CHAPTER XII. THE WILD ROCKS AGAIN. HOME! home to the Wild Rocks, to the sea and the sky! Away, fast as flying feet might go, from the walls that shut out life and light, that stifled heart and soul! Since the sin was sinned in vain; since she must be turned away with shame, if she did not go of her own accord, and that quickly; since with her the little brother, for whose dear sake she had planned the sin, must be sent too, to share the shame, and lose all the help and happiness that lay before him if he might but stay; oh! and above all, above all, since he, the little cherished one, had turned his face from her and clung to the new friends, who could give so much, while she had nothing but her great love; since all these things were, home to the Wild Rocks, praying for the flight of a bird, speeding straight, with the steps of a child who had learned to run with the hares and the mountain sheep. Many turned to look at the girl, but none sought to stop her. Rather people stood aside, as for the flight of an arrow, feeling the passage of some dire need that would not be stayed nor questioned. Home! home to the Wild Rocks!