The leaky little boat was plunging and dancing in swift ecstasy
of movement; all about them the little waves ran glittering in
the sunlight, plashing and slapping against the boat’s low side,
tossing tiny crests to the following wind, showing rifts of white
here and there, blowing handfuls of foam and spray. Gideon went
softly about the business of shortening his small sail, and came
quietly back to his steering-seat again. Soon he would have to be
making for what lea the western shore offered; but he was holding
to the middle of the river as long as he could, because with every
mile the shores were growing more familiar, calling to him to make
what speed he could. Vashti’s sobbing had grown small and ceased;
he wondered if she had fallen asleep.
Presently, however, he saw her face raised—a face still shining
with tears. She saw that he was watching her, and crouched low
again. A dash of spray spattered over her, and she looked up
frightened, glancing fearfully overside; then once more her eyes
came back to him, and this time she got up, still small and
crouching, and made her way slowly and painfully down the length of
the boat, until at last Gideon moved aside for her, and she sank in
the bottom beside him, hiding her eyes in her gingham sleeve.
Gideon stretched out a broad hand and touched her head lightly; and
with a tiny gasp her fingers stole up to his.
“Honey,” said Gideon—“Honey, yo’ ain’ mad, is yo’?”
She shook her head, not looking at him.
“Yo’ ain’ grievin’ foh yo’ ma?”
Again she shook her head.
“Because,” said Gideon, smiling down at her, “I ain’ got no beeg
club like she has.”
A soft and smothered giggle answered him, and this time Vashti
looked up and laid her head against him with a small sigh of
contentment.
Gideon felt very tender, very important, at peace with himself and
all the world. He rounded a jutting point, and stretched out a
black hand, pointing.
FOOTNOTES:
[28] From _The Century Magazine_, April, 1914; copyright, 1914, by
The Century Co.; republished by the author’s permission.
END OF VOLUME
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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