exact--she had returned to Morgan's; and
each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a
kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Sometimes the
music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning
to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled
and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the
storms crashing, thunderous.

On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her. He told her
something about music, the great world outside. Then he had gone
away. But two weeks later he returned. Again he played for her; and
again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her
soul. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. Shy, grateful in
her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. She
had even confided to him how lonely it was in the island. He had
promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is,
she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his
eyes.

And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of
indignation that had put terror into her heart. The same look she
had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father
had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. And now
she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name)
knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it.

Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and
partly because of her father's mandate. Yet the thing hidden within
her called and called.

Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them
everywhere. By following her he had discovered her secret nook in
the rocks. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon,
books. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to
hold her maddening curiosity in check. Books! She knew now what had
saved her--her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set
the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. One day
she had thrown all the gifts into the lagoon, and visited the
secret nook no more.

And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed
his genius through the mud. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. Between
herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God
could give--love. Hoddy. No other man should touch her; she was
Hoddy's, body and soul, in this life and af