He was interrupted by a shout of cynical laughter.
"Oh, get off your foot! A Madonna in Dawson--Ra! Ra!"
He shut up abashed, but I had my clue. I waited until the last noisy roisterer had gone.
He started, looked at me searchingly: "You know her?"
"Oh, I understand. Yes, that long, queer cabin highest up the hill."
"All right, good luck." He accompanied me to the door, staring at the marvel of the glamorous Northern midnight.
"Oh, for a medium to express it all! Your pedantic poetry isn't big enough; prose isn't big enough. What we want is something between the two, something that will interpret life, and stir the great heart of the people. Good-night."
Very softly I approached the cabin, for a fear of encountering her guardians was in my heart. It was in rather a lonely place, perched at the base of that vast mountain abrasion they call the Slide, a long, low cabin, quiet and dark, and surrounded by rugged boulders. Carefully I reconnoitered, and soon, to my infinite joy, I saw the Jewish couple come forth and make their way townward. The girl was alone.
How madly beat my heart! It was a glooming kind of a night, and the cabin looked woefully bleak and solitary. No light came through the windows, no sound through the moss-chinked walls. I drew near.
Why this wild commotion of my being? What was it? Anxiety, joy, dread? I was poised on the pinnacle of hope that overhangs the abyss of despair. Fearfully I paused. I was racked with suspense, conscious of a longing so poignant that the thought of disappointment became insufferable pain. So violent was my emotion that a feeling almost of nausea overcame me.
I knew now that I cared for this girl more than I had ever thought to care for woman. I knew that she was dearer to me than all the world else; I knew that my love for her would live as long as life is long.
Then, at my words, the door was opened, and the girl was before me. I think she had been lying down, for her soft hair was a little ruffled, but her eyes were far too bright for sleep. She stood gazing at me, and a little fluttering hand went up to her heart as if to still its beating.
A great radiance of joy seemed to descend on her.
"I knew, yes, I knew. Something told me you were come at last. And I've waited--how I've waited! I've dreamed, but it's not a dream now, is it, dear; it's you?"