"It is not an island, though, in any sense, as one would suppose. Nor rocky, either, but with green, soft as velvet, reaching to the water’s edge. At one time its people thought it would be a great city, perhaps the greatest, but already the belief is dying out. That is the way, though. A town springs up in a day, only to be followed later by a rush to some other place, and so everything has to be commenced anew"; and he sighed, as if these transformations had been the cause of many grievous disappointments to him in his short life. "Have you ever lived in Rock Island?" I asked, seeing he wanted to talk. "Yes, for a while, as I have in other places; but only to be caught up and carried on to some new town," he replied. "Will you ever get fixed in one place, do you think?" I asked. "How would you like to live in Rock Island for a while—say a month or two?" he replied, as if not hearing my idle question. "Why do you ask, uncle?" I answered, wondering what he meant. "Oh, we have a relative there. A sort of a cousin, named Rolland Love, and a very agreeable man, too. He married a second cousin of yours when young, but she dying, he has married again; so he is a cousin and not a cousin, if you can make that out." "If he was once a cousin I suppose he is always a cousin, isn’t he?" I answered. "I suppose so, and more particularly," he replied, "as he is a man to open your heart to." "Are we going to stop at Rock Island?" I asked, conscious that what he was saying led up to something, I could not tell what. "Yes, if you think you will like it," he answered. "I want to see Rolland, and there is a matter that has been troubling me ever since we left Quincy. What would you say to staying with him a while, until matters quiet down?" he went on, abruptly, as if to have an end to something that oppressed him. "Are you going to stay, too?" I asked. "Well, no—or only for a day or so; but I will only be a little way off, and we will see each other often, you know," he answered, reassuringly. "Do you wish to leave me there?" I asked, a great lump filling my throat at the thought. "Yes, for a while. It will throw Moth off the track if he tries to follow us, as I fear he will, for your aunt will spend half she has to get you back, the old shrew!" he exclaimed, angrily. "Think of her sending Moth on to Quincy. She is mad through and through, and now Moth, the scamp! will be equally determined," and stopping, he seemed as if trying to make out the persistence and cunning they would evince in the pursuit. To all this I made no answer, being filled afresh with direful forebodings. For I had fondly thought the last few days had done away with fear of Moth, the river cutting off all possibility of his troubling me further.