From every side the cities were shutting in upon her. Every half hour she saw a steamer pass her island on its way after iron ore to make guns and shells. That was why the patrol boat was so busy. If the enemy could block this channel, the enemy could win the war and then citify every foot of earth. Of course Captain Jack Gillies would not let the Germans block the channel, but he could not prevent Americans from crowding it with steamers. After the war there would be a steady procession of them, steaming daily and nightly toward the pole. And some day these straits would be fought for just as the Dardanelles had always been fought for. All this pious chatter about a lasting peace was rubbish, as anybody who had studied geography ought to see. How much of this pessimism was due to Jean’s own poverty is hard to say, but she was in no sense penurious. The little pauper was so friendly with the millions of miles in her star-sown nightly sky that she rarely counted money in less than millions. Some day a steel man would come along and try to buy her island to use for a coaling station. Well, he couldn’t have it, not for a million dollars. Chapter 15. Phosphorus The last day of 1917 came, but she did not attend the grange party to see the old year out. At nine o’clock she lighted her candle, wished daddy a happy New Year, and went to bed. She awoke long before daylight, and wondered what the new year would bring. Perhaps her father would slip away and leave her all alone. The thought was intolerable, and she sprang out of bed. It was far too early to get breakfast, but she dressed herself warmly and went out. The frosty sky was more glorious than ever. It bore no trace of a new year, for it was timeless. She looked for Venus, and found it, a great jewel reflecting the purest white. Then she remembered that in her valedictory she had referred to it as Phosphor and Hesperus. How often since then she had quoted Sappho in her heart, wishing that Hesperus might bring the child home to its mother. But she remembered avoiding the word Lucifer. It meant the same as Phosphor, but she had been afraid that some bad boy might be reminded of the devil. Why was Lucifer a name of reproach? Because he tried to equal God. And when defeated he whispered to God’s innocents that they were naked, and sent them a boy who killed his brother! She remembered that her father as a sharpshooter had slain forty of his own brothers—the notches were still to be seen on his old rifle. She suddenly understood why he had not married till forty-six. Ambrose Rich had come out of the army determined to engender no boys to be slain by sharpshooters. That was the secret of his traveling away off up here and staying for half of every year from 1869 to 1892. Here he had silently atoned for his sin. Here he had edited the most severe of all criticisms of civilization.