Islands -- Fiction; Love stories; New England -- Fiction; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
And that spell wrought by "Money Musk," "Fisher's Hornpipe," "The
Devil's Dream" and such old-time dance tunes that followed in quick
succession carried Winn back to his boyhood days and out of the turmoil
and strife of city life, and once more he felt himself in the old farm
barn with lanterns swinging aloft and a score of country lads and
lassies keeping step with him to the same lively measures. He could see
their happy faces and the sparkle of their eyes as "balance and swing,"
"do-see-do" and "all promenade" echoed from the rafters. He could even
feel the supple waist and warm handclasp of the willing maid who danced
with him, and when the evening of simple but unalloyed delight was over,
came the long walk home with that same farmer's daughter while the
moonlight silvered the landscape and the rustling leaves in the maple
lane, tinkling like tiny bells beneath their feet. Gone were all the
hectic years of city life, the stab of Ethel Sherman, the distrust of
Jack Nickerson, and the humiliation of the years with Weston & Hill.
Gone, too, all his present dread and the fog that for weeks had obscured
his course. Once more he felt full of young courage with success and
riches almost within his grasp. Then as the evening waned and Jess
Hutton's fingers strayed to the old sweet love songs of Scotland and
"Robin Adair" and "Annie Laurie" whispered the burden of their
affection, the tender eyes of Mona and the wild rock-walled gorge where
he had first heard her play the same songs touched his heart. With this
memory, so sweet in a way, came a heartache. When the evening was ended
and he, having thanked Jess for the good cheer in words and music,
betook himself to Rock Lane, he paused a moment in front of Mona's home.
Not a light was visible, not a sound except the low murmur of the
distant sea. Only a few seconds he stood there, looking and thinking,
and then kept on to his room.
The mood of the church bells was with him still.
CHAPTER XX
A CLOUD OVER ROCKHAVEN
A man is happiest when he has most to do, and though a woman's face
intrudes upon his thoughts and he feels her smiles are all for him, it
is life and action and the push forward toward success that interest him
most.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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