mped for the other, I took up a
pebble at last and cast it upon the pane nearest to the door--for that
seemed to me the more likely room, and I'd nothing else but common
sense to guide me. You may judge of my feelings when no notice was
taken of my signal except by a dog, which began to yap like a pup and
to make such a scare that I thought every window and every door must
be opened that very instant and as many men out on top of me. I said,
surely, that it was all up with Jasper Begg that journey; but odd to
tell it, the dog gave over at last, and no one showed himself, neither
was there any whistle from my company; and I was just making ready to
throw another stone when the second light was turned out all of a
sudden and, the long window being opened, Ruth Bellenden--or, to be
more correct, Mme. Czerny--herself came out into the garden, and stood
looking round about as though she knew that I was there and had been
waiting for me. When at last she saw me she didn't speak or make any
sign, but going about to the house again she held the window open for
me, and I passed into the dark room with her, and there held her hand
in mine, I do believe as though I would never let it go again.

"Jasper," says she, in a whisper that was pretty as the south wind in
springtime; "Jasper Begg, how could it be any one else! Oh, we must
light a candle, Jasper Begg," says she, "or we shall lose ourselves in
the dark."

"Miss Ruth," said I, "light or dark, I'm here according to my orders,
and the ship's here, and as I said to you before the yellow boy to-day,
we're waiting for our mistress to go aboard."

She had her back to me when I said this, and was busy enough drawing
the curtains and lighting the lamp again. The light showed me that she
wore a rich black gown with fluffy stuff over it, and a bit of a
sparkle in the way of diamonds like a band across her parted hair. The
face was deceiving, now lighted up by one of the old smiles, now hard
set as one who had suffered much for her years. But there was nothing
over-womanish in her talk, and we two thrashed it out there, just the
same as if Ken's Island wasn't full of devils, and the lives of me and
my men worth what a spin of the coin might buy them at.

"You mustn't call me Miss Ruth," says she, when she turned from the
lamp and tidied up her writing on the table; "of course you know that,
Jasper Begg. And you at my wedding, too--is it really not more than
twelve long months ago?"