The miracle of impossible happiness had been worked for him. It confused me like a dazzle of fireworks. I turned my back and bowed my head, waiting for him to speak again or to leave me out, as he saw fit. Extreme joy may be very silent in those who have waited long, for I did not hear a cry or a spoken word. Presently I dared to look, and was not surprised to find myself alone. The evergreen-clothed amphitheatre behind had many paths which would instantly hide climbers from view. The blue man and the woman with floating hair knew these heights well. I thought of the pitfall, and sat watching with back-tilted head, anxious to warn them if they stirred foliage near where that fatal trap was said to lurk. But the steep forest gave no sign or sound from its mossy depths. I sat still a long time in a trance of the senses, like that which follows a drama whose spell you would not break. Masts and cross-trees of ships, were banded by ribbons of smoke blowing back from the steamers which towed them in lines up or down the straits. Towards sunset there was a faint blush above the steel-blue waters, which at their edge reflected the blush. Then mist closed in. The sky became ribbed with horizontal bars, so that the earth was pent like a heart within the hollow of some vast skeleton. I was about to climb down from my rock when two young men passed by, the first strollers I had noticed since the blue man’s exit. They rapped stones out of the way with their canes, and pushed the caps back from their youthful faces, talking rapidly in excitement. “When did it happen?” “About four o’clock. You were off at the golf links.” “Was she killed instantly?” “I think so. I think she never knew what hurt her after seeing the horses plunge and the carriage go over. I was walking my wheel down-hill just behind and I didn’t hear her scream. The driver said he lost the brake; and he’s a pretty spectacle now, for he landed on his head. It was that beautiful old lady with the fly-away hair that we saw arrive from this morning’s boat while we were sitting out smoking, you remember.” “Not that one!” “That was the woman. Had a black maid with her. She’s a Southerner. I looked on the register.” The other young fellow whistled. “I’m glad I was at the links and didn’t see it. She was a stunning woman.” Dusk stalked grimly down from eastern heights and blurred the water earlier than on rose-colored evenings, making the home-returning walker shiver through evergreen glooms along shore. The lights of the sleepy Old Mission had never seemed so pleasant, though the house was full of talk about that day’s accident at the other side of the island.