er than to let you anchor it
there. The water is too shallow. There are rocks."

"You are the hermit's son!" quite as if she had not heard me, and still
looking at me with a little smile.

"You have been in the water long enough," said I. "Go to your tent at
once and dress. In another minute you will be shivering."

At that she broke into laughter; it was like the moonlight ripple of
the lake.

"Sir, I obey," she said with a mock humility which enchanted me.
"Good-night." She walked up the bank, her wet skirt dripping as she
went. I stood dazed, foolish, looking after. Then as she threaded among
the trees toward the glimmer of a tent, I recovered myself and ran
after her.

"Tell me," I said in haste, "tell me, are you Zoe?"

She was walking on, and I kept pace with her, knowing how rash I was to
follow. She turned her head.

"Not to you," she answered, without pausing in her walk. "Good-night!"
and she was gone.

I know I found my boat, and that, as I rowed away, there were cries of
"Zoe!" from the swimmers who had missed her. I was dripping, but my
blood ran fast. Was she cold? Was she shivering? Fools, to let so
delicate a creature go into the water at night! The men were fools.

III

Ask me now what of the night and what of the day, for I am the watchman
who is fixing his eyes upon life and finding it good. Again I knew
there were events in the wind. This morning my father, too, was uneasy,
and when we had finished our work, we went out together to the grove
near the landing, each with a book; but we did not read. He watched the
lake, and I tried not to listen for the dip of oars. At last it
came,--O happy sound!--and when I started up, I found his glance upon
me.

"Yes, they are coming," he said sadly, bitterly. "It seems we both
expected it."

I could not answer, for I do not understand him. Why should it be a
grief to him more than to me, this seeing men and women who talk and
laugh, with whom one could say all one thought without being
misunderstood, and who can bring us such news of the world? But I had
not time to say these things, for they were coming, two boatloads of
them; and I ran down to the landing to meet them. She was in the first
boat, her hair covered now, but kissed by the sun wherever he could
reach it. With her was an older woman, the brown-eyed young one, and
the same young men. The boat touched the landing, and I helped the
other women ashore; but she put her fingers on the sh