A Spinner in the Sun

s o'

bwebbed window pane. She awoke in a transfigured world. Every branch and twig was encased in crystal, upon which the sun was dazzling. Jewels, poised in midair, twin

rced it here and there. Beyond, there were glimpses of blue sky, and drops of

arly soft and sweet. It had the fragrance of opening buds and

into the veins of the trees, new aspirations into dead roots and fibres, fresh hopes of bloom into every sleeping rose. Life incarnate knocked at the wintry tomb; eager,

ived her isolation. Of all the world, she alone was set apart; branded, scarred, locked i

thought never to enter again. Through all the five-and-twenty years, she had thought of the house with

rst she had struggled; then ceased. Since then, her faculties had been in suspense, as it were. She had forgo

im know her. Not knowing where he was, she had travelled far to avoid him. Now, seeking the last refuge, the one place on earth where he could not be, she found herself separated from him by less than a mile. More

ll upon her, a woman of forty-five. It was as though a clock had gone on ticking and the hands ha

from which there is no escape. Having once begun it, an interest appears unexpectedly; new forces ally themselves with the fumbling hands. Misfortunes come, "not si

take one of them by the hand. The road winds through shadows, past many strange and difficult places, and wrecks are strewn all along the way. They

t ahead for each. The Grey Angel with the unfathomable eyes approaches slowly, with no sound save the hushed murmur of wings. The dread whi

d has grown cold, then, that it has unclasped. In the intolerable darkness,

n a heart is deep enough to hold a grave. The clouds lift, and through the night comes some stray gleam of dawn. No longer cold, the dear ha

eternally beyond the reach of misunderstanding or change, spared the pitfalls and disasters of the way ahead, blinded no longe

tep by step, his Sorrow has become his friend, and at the last, when the old feet ar

btful waters, which once were in the cup of Life and Love, into a jewel which has no flaw. He has kept the child forever a child, caught the maiden at the noon of her

te poppies, and the tired eyes close as though the silken petals had already fluttered downward on the lids, for, radiant past all believing, the Grey Angel st

ay. The bare, brown earth was not wholly hidden by the mantle of sleet and snow, yet ther

lashed across the desolate garden, a south wind stirred the bending, icy bra

king neither to the right nor the left. Miss Hitty saw her pass, but graciously forbore to ca

r road. It had been a favourite walk of hers in her girlhood. Then she h

n her, too. Dark and deep, the waters of the river rolled dreamily by, waiting for the impulse wh

The woods were full of unsuspected ravines and hollows, queer winding paths, great rocks, and tiny streams

veil, to choke back a sob that tightened her throat. Suddenly, she felt a presentiment of oncoming evil,

d to marble, her feet refused to move. The heart within her stood portentously still. With downcast eyes she stoo

ingly who was coming; and had felt the searing consciousness of his single glance before, with a m

nce. He had the pearls, he had seen her, he kn

er head, gasping for breath; her sluggish feet stirred forward. Some forgotten valour of her spirit leaped to

athed another, hinting of peace. Shaken to her inmost soul by agony, she took heed of the music with the pre

t a time like this. A bird? No, there was never a bird to sing like that. Almost i

ipes o' Pan," she whispered, "I will find and follow you." To see the face of Pan meant dea

with their chiming crystal, and a twig fell at her feet, Sunlight starred the

-the-wisp of sound. Here and there out of the silence, it came to startle

throbbed and thundered and overflowed. "He saw me! He saw me! He saw me! He knew me! He knew me! He knew

en intently, at times disheartened enough to turn back. She had a mad fancy that Death w

too, when her whole nature was unspeakably stirred. She paused and leaned against a tree, to listen for the pipes o' Pan. But all was silent; the white stillness of the enchanted forest w

ute of April blown in a March dawn. "Oh, pipes o' Pan," breathed Evelina, behi

cely knowing what she did, she began to climb the hill. It was a more d

he summit. It was not more than a little nook, surrounded by pines. As she came to it, there was a frightened chirp,

hat with a long red quill thrust rakishly through the band. His face was round and rosy and the kindest eyes in the world twinkled at Evelina from beneath his bushy eyebrows. At his f

als ever since. It was evident that he thoroughly enjoyed the musical hide-and-seek he had forced her to play

a, in a tone of du

id the Piper, gent

downhill with more haste than dignity, turned to her ri

r crumbs and grain and he stood patiently until his feathered pensioners had finished

st now. To-morrow, we will not pack our shop upon our back and marc

greed. He was a pitiful sort, even for a mongrel. One of his legs had b

etter than none. Anyway, I did my best with it, and now we'll push on a bit. It's

shortly after she did. Keeping a respectful distance, and walking at the side of the road, he watched her as she went ho

"the very one we were thinking of taking ourselve