That’s a very good thing.

    Edward kissed me softly for a moment, and then he chuckled.
    “I was all braced for the wrath that was going to put grizzlies to shame, and this is what I get? I should
infuriate you more often.”
    “Give me a minute to work up to it,” I teased, kissing him again.
    “I’ll wait as long as you want,” he whispered against my lips. His fingers knotted in my hair.
    My breath was becoming uneven. “Maybe in the morning.”
    “Whatever you prefer.”
    “Welcome home,” I said while his cold lips pressed under my jaw. “I’m glad you came back.”
    “That’s a very good thing.”
    “Mmm,” I agreed, tightening my arms around his neck.
    His hand curved around my elbow, moving slowly down my arm, across my ribs and over my waist,
tracing along my hip and down my leg, around my knee. He paused there, his hand curling around my calf. He
pulled my leg up suddenly, hitching it around his hip.
    I stopped breathing. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually allowed. Despite his cold hands, I felt
suddenly warm. His lips moved in the hollow at the base of my throat.
    “Not to bring on the ire prematurely,” he whispered, “but do you mind telling me what it is about this bed
that you object to?”
    Before I could answer, before I could even concentrate enough to make sense of his words, he rolled to
the side, pulling me on top of him. He held my face in his hands, angling it up so that his mouth could reach my
throat. My breathing was too loud — it was almost embarrassing, but I couldn’t care quite enough to be
ashamed.
    “The bed?” he asked again. “I think it’s nice.”
    “It’s unnecessary,” I managed to gasp.
    He pulled my face back to his, and my lips shaped themselves around his. Slowly this time, he rolled till he
hovered over me. He held himself carefully so that I felt none of his weight, but I could feel the cool marble of
his body press against mine. My heart was hammering so loudly that it was hard to hear his quiet laughter.
    “That’s debatable,” he disagreed. “This would be difficult on a couch.”
    Cold as ice, his tongue lightly traced the shape of my lips.
    My head was spinning — the air was coming too fast and shallow.
    “Did you change your mind?” I asked breathlessly. Maybe he’d rethought all his careful rules. Maybe
there was more significance to this bed than I’d originally guessed. My heart pounded almost painfully as I
waited for his answer.
    Edward sighed, rolling back so that we were on our sides again.

She nodded in assent,

    I got absolutely soaked as I sped across the slick highway toward the Cullens’ house. The wind felt like it
was freezing the rain against my skin, and my teeth were chattering before I was halfway there.
    Motorcycles were too impractical for Washington. I would sell the stupid thing first chance I got.
    I walked the bike into the Cullens’ cavernous garage and was unsurprised to find Alice waiting for me,
perched lightly on the hood of her Porsche. Alice stroked the glossy yellow paint.
    “I haven’t even had a chance to drive it.” She sighed.
    “Sorry,” I spit through my rattling teeth.
    “You look like you could use a hot shower,” she said, offhand, as she sprang lightly to her feet.
    “Yep.”
    She pursed her lips, taking in my expression carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “Nope.”
    She nodded in assent, but her eyes were raging with curiosity.
    “Do you want to go to Olympia tonight?”
    “Not really. Can’t I go home?”
    She grimaced.
    “Never mind, Alice,” I said. “I’ll stay if it makes things easier for you.”
    “Thanks,” she sighed in relief.
    I went to bed early that night, curling up on his sofa again.
    It was still dark when I woke. I was groggy, but I knew it wasn’t near morning yet. My eyes closed, and I
stretched, rolling over. It took me a second before I realized that the movement should have dumped me onto
the floor. And that I was much too comfortable.
    I rolled back over, trying to see. It was darker than last night — the clouds were too thick for the moon to
shine through.
    “Sorry,” he murmured so softly that his voice was part of the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    I tensed, waiting for the fury — both his and mine — but it was only quiet and calm in the darkness of his
room. I could almost taste the sweetness of reunion in the air, a separate fragrance from the perfume of his
breath; the emptiness when we were apart left its own bitter aftertaste, something I didn’t consciously notice

until it was removed.
    There was no friction in the space between us. The stillness was peaceful — not like the calm before the
tempest, but like a clear night untouched by even the dream of a storm.
    And I didn’t care that I was supposed to be angry with him. I didn’t care that I was supposed to be angry
with everyone. I reached out for him, found his hands in the darkness, and pulled myself closer to him. His
arms encircled me, cradling me to his chest. My lips searched, hunting along his throat, to his chin, till I finally
found his lips.

I stared at his face

    We grinned at each other for a second, and then his face clouded over.
    “You know that day, when I brought the bike over . . . I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” he said
slowly. “But also . . . not wanting to.”
    I held very still — a reaction to stress. It was a habit I’d picked up from Edward.
    “Were you just being stubborn because you were mad at me, or were you really serious?” he whispered.
    “About what?” I whispered back, though I was sure I knew what he meant.
    He glared at me. “You know. When you said it was none of my business . . . if — if he bit you.” He
cringed visibly at the end.
    “Jake . . .” My throat felt swollen. I couldn’t finish.
    He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Were you serious?”
    He was trembling just slightly. His eyes stayed closed.
    “Yes,” I whispered.
    Jacob inhaled, slow and deep. “I guess I knew that.”
    I stared at his face, waiting for his eyes to open.
    “You know what this will mean?” He demanded suddenly. “You do understand that, don’t you? What will
happen if they break the treaty?”
    “We’ll leave first,” I said in a small voice.
    His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. “There wasn’t a geographic limit to the
treaty, Bella. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were
different, that humans weren’t in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone
ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other
vampires. Once that’s established, when we find them again —”
    “But, Jake, didn’t you break the treaty already?” I asked, grasping at straws. “Wasn’t part of it that you
not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn’t the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?”
    Jacob didn’t like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. “Yeah, I broke the treaty —
back before I believed any of it. And I’m sure they were informed of that.” He glared sourly at my forehead,
not meeting my shamed gaze. “But it’s not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There’s no fault for a
fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we’ll have when they break the
treaty: to attack. To start the war.”
    He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered.
    “Jake, it doesn’t have to be that way.”
    His teeth ground together. “It is that way.”
    The silence after his declaration felt very loud.
    “Will you never forgive me, Jacob?” I whispered. As soon as I said the words, I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t
want to hear his answer.

He touched his can to mine.

     We rode our motorcycles on the back roads around La Push until the rain made them too muddy and
Jacob insisted that he was going to pass out if he didn’t eat soon. Billy greeted me easily when we got to the
house, as if my sudden reappearance meant nothing more complicated than that I’d wanted to spend the day
with my friend. After we ate the sandwiches Jacob made, we went out to the garage and I helped him clean up
the bikes. I hadn’t been here in months — since Edward had returned — but there was no sense of import to
it. It was just another afternoon in the garage.
     “This is nice,” I commented when he pulled the warm sodas from the grocery bag. “I’ve missed this
place.”
     He smiled, looking around at the plastic sheds bolted together over our heads. “Yeah, I can understand
that. All the splendor of the Taj Mahal, without the inconvenience and expense of traveling to India.”
     “To Washington’s little Taj Mahal,” I toasted, holding up my can.
     He touched his can to mine.
     “Do you remember last Valentine’s Day? I think that was the last time you were here — the last time
when things were still . . . normal, I mean.”
     I laughed. “Of course I remember. I traded a lifetime of servitude for a box of conversation hearts. That’s
not something I’m likely to forget.”
     He laughed with me. “That’s right. Hmm, servitude. I’ll have to think of something good.” Then he sighed.
“It feels like it was years ago. Another era. A happier one.”
     I couldn’t agree with him. This was my happy era now. But I was surprised to realize how many things I
missed from my own personal dark ages. I stared through the opening at the murky forest. The rain had
picked up again, but it was warm in the little garage, sitting next to Jacob. He was as good as a furnace.
     His fingers brushed my hand. “Things have really changed.”
     “Yeah,” I said, and then I reached out and patted the back tire of my bike. “Charlie used to like me. I
hope Billy doesn’t say anything about today. . . .” I bit my lip.
     “He won’t. He doesn’t get worked up about things the way Charlie does. Hey, I never did apologize

officially for that stupid move with the bike. I’m real sorry about ratting you out to Charlie. I wish I hadn’t.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Me, too.”
    “I’m really, really sorry.”
    He looked at me hopefully, his wet, tangled black hair sticking up in every direction around his pleading
face.
    “Oh, fine! You’re forgiven.”
    “Thanks, Bells!”

I dropped my eyes to the rocks.

      He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all.
      “It’s not supposed to be,” he admitted. “But you have to see her — the one that’s supposedly meant for
you.”
      “And you think that if you haven’t seen her yet, then she’s not out there?” I asked skeptically. “Jacob, you
haven’t really seen much of the world — less than me, even.”
      “No, I haven’t,” he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing eyes. “But I’ll never
see anyone else, Bella. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or
Embry. It drives them all crazy.”
      I dropped my eyes to the rocks.

     We weren’t walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn’t hear
the rain over their roar.
     “Maybe I’d better go home,” I whispered.
     “No!” he protested, surprised by this conclusion.
     I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now.
     “You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won’t be home yet.”
     I glared at him.
     “No offense intended,” he said quickly.
     “Yes, I have the whole day. But, Jake . . .”
     He held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t be like that anymore. I’ll just be Jacob.”
     I sighed. “But if that’s what you’re thinking . . .”
     “Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. “I know what I’m doing.
Just tell me if I’m upsetting you.”
     “I don’t know. . . .”
     “C’mon, Bella. Let’s go back to the house and get our bikes. You’ve got to ride a motorcycle regularly to
keep it in tune.”
     “I really don’t think I’m allowed.”
     “By who? Charlie or the blood — or him?”
     “Both.”
     Jacob grinned my grin, and he was suddenly the Jacob I missed the most, sunny and warm.
     I couldn’t help grinning back.
     The rain softened, turned to mist.
     “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.
     “Except every one of your friends.”
     He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. “I promise not to think about it.”
     I laughed. “If I get hurt, it was because I tripped.”
     “Whatever you say.”

Aren’t you mad at me?

      “Mmm,” he sighed. “I may take you up on that.”
      “So is it my turn now?”
      “Your turn?” his voice was confused.
      “To apologize.”
      “What do you have to apologize for?”
      “Aren’t you mad at me?” I asked blankly.
      “No.”
      It sounded like he really meant it.
      I felt my eyebrows pull together. “Didn’t you see Alice when you got home?”
      “Yes — why?”
      “Are you going to take her Porsche back?”
      “Of course not. It was a gift.”
      I wished I could see his expression. His voice sounded as if I’d insulted him.
      “Don’t you want to know what I did?” I asked, starting to be puzzled by his apparent lack of concern.
      I felt him shrug. “I’m always interested in everything you do — but you don’t have to tell me unless you
want to.”
      “But I went to La Push.”
      “I know.”
      “And I ditched school.”
      “So did I.”
      I stared toward the sound of his voice, tracing his features with my fingers, trying to understand his mood.
“Where did all this tolerance come from?” I demanded.
      He sighed.

    “I decided that you were right. My problem before was more about my . . . prejudice against werewolves
than anything else. I’m going to try to be more reasonable and trust your judgment. If you say it’s safe, then I’ll
believe you.”
    “Wow.”
    “And . . . most importantly . . . I’m not willing to let this drive a wedge between us.”
    I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, totally content.
    “So,” he murmured in a casual tone. “Did you make plans to go back to La Push again soon?”
    I didn’t answer. His question brought back the memory of Jacob’s words, and my throat was suddenly
tight.

I stopped breathing.

    “Give me a minute to work up to it,” I teased, kissing him again.
    “I’ll wait as long as you want,” he whispered against my lips. His fingers knotted in my hair.
    My breath was becoming uneven. “Maybe in the morning.”
    “Whatever you prefer.”
    “Welcome home,” I said while his cold lips pressed under my jaw. “I’m glad you came back.”
    “That’s a very good thing.”
    “Mmm,” I agreed, tightening my arms around his neck.
    His hand curved around my elbow, moving slowly down my arm, across my ribs and over my waist,
tracing along my hip and down my leg, around my knee. He paused there, his hand curling around my calf. He
pulled my leg up suddenly, hitching it around his hip.
    I stopped breathing. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually allowed. Despite his cold hands, I felt
suddenly warm. His lips moved in the hollow at the base of my throat.
    “Not to bring on the ire prematurely,” he whispered, “but do you mind telling me what it is about this bed
that you object to?”
    Before I could answer, before I could even concentrate enough to make sense of his words, he rolled to
the side, pulling me on top of him. He held my face in his hands, angling it up so that his mouth could reach my
throat. My breathing was too loud — it was almost embarrassing, but I couldn’t care quite enough to be
ashamed.
    “The bed?” he asked again. “I think it’s nice.”
    “It’s unnecessary,” I managed to gasp.
    He pulled my face back to his, and my lips shaped themselves around his. Slowly this time, he rolled till he
hovered over me. He held himself carefully so that I felt none of his weight, but I could feel the cool marble of
his body press against mine. My heart was hammering so loudly that it was hard to hear his quiet laughter.
    “That’s debatable,” he disagreed. “This would be difficult on a couch.”
    Cold as ice, his tongue lightly traced the shape of my lips.
    My head was spinning — the air was coming too fast and shallow.
    “Did you change your mind?” I asked breathlessly. Maybe he’d rethought all his careful rules. Maybe
there was more significance to this bed than I’d originally guessed. My heart pounded almost painfully as I
waited for his answer.
    Edward sighed, rolling back so that we were on our sides again.
    “Don’t be ridiculous, Bella,” he said, disapproval strong in his voice — clearly, he understood what I
meant. “I was just trying to illustrate the benefits of the bed you don’t seem to like. Don’t get carried away.”
    “Too late,” I muttered. “And I like the bed,” I added.

No, I haven’t

      He sighed.
      “When do you think it will happen for you?” I asked quietly.
      His answer was flat and immediate. “Never.”
      “It’s not something you can control, is it?”
      He was silent for a few minutes. Unconsciously, we both walked slower, barely moving at all.
      “It’s not supposed to be,” he admitted. “But you have to see her — the one that’s supposedly meant for
you.”
      “And you think that if you haven’t seen her yet, then she’s not out there?” I asked skeptically. “Jacob, you
haven’t really seen much of the world — less than me, even.”
      “No, I haven’t,” he said in a low voice. He looked at my face with suddenly piercing eyes. “But I’ll never
see anyone else, Bella. I only see you. Even when I close my eyes and try to see something else. Ask Quil or
Embry. It drives them all crazy.”
      I dropped my eyes to the rocks.

     We weren’t walking anymore. The only sound was of the waves beating against the shore. I couldn’t hear
the rain over their roar.
     “Maybe I’d better go home,” I whispered.
     “No!” he protested, surprised by this conclusion.
     I looked up at him again, and his eyes were anxious now.
     “You have the whole day off, right? The bloodsucker won’t be home yet.”
     I glared at him.
     “No offense intended,” he said quickly.
     “Yes, I have the whole day. But, Jake . . .”
     He held up his hands. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I won’t be like that anymore. I’ll just be Jacob.”
     I sighed. “But if that’s what you’re thinking . . .”
     “Don’t worry about me,” he insisted, smiling with deliberate cheer, too brightly. “I know what I’m doing.
Just tell me if I’m upsetting you.”
     “I don’t know. . . .”
     “C’mon, Bella. Let’s go back to the house and get our bikes. You’ve got to ride a motorcycle regularly to
keep it in tune.”
     “I really don’t think I’m allowed.”
     “By who? Charlie or the blood — or him?”
     “Both.”
     Jacob grinned my grin, and he was suddenly the Jacob I missed the most, sunny and warm.
     I couldn’t help grinning back.
     The rain softened, turned to mist.
     “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised.
     “Except every one of your friends.”
     He shook his head soberly and raised his right hand. “I promise not to think about it.”
     I laughed. “If I get hurt, it was because I tripped.”

Edward wasn’t happy.

     “I waited in the road to die. It was cold, though there was so much pain that I was surprised it bothered
me. It started to snow, and I wondered why I wasn’t dying. I was impatient for death to come, to end the
pain. It was taking so long. . . .
     “Carlisle found me then. He’d smelled the blood, and come to investigate. I remember being vaguely
irritated as he worked over me, trying to save my life. I’d never liked Dr. Cullen or his wife and her brother —
as Edward pretended to be then. It had upset me that they were all more beautiful than I was, especially that
the men were. But they didn’t mingle in society, so I’d only seen them once or twice.
     “I thought I’d died when he pulled me from the ground and ran with me — because of the speed — it felt
like I was flying. I remembered being horrified that the pain didn’t stop. . . .
     “Then I was in a bright room, and it was warm. I was slipping away, and I was grateful as the pain began
to dull. But suddenly something sharp was cutting me, my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock,
thinking he’d brought me there to hurt me more. Then fire started burning through me, and I didn’t care about
anything else. I begged him to kill me. When Esme and Edward returned home, I begged them to kill me, too.
Carlisle sat with me. He held my hand and said that he was so sorry, promising that it would end. He told me
everything, and sometimes I listened. He told me what he was, what I was becoming. I didn’t believe him. He

apologized each time I screamed.
    “Edward wasn’t happy. I remember hearing them discuss me. I stopped screaming sometimes. It did no
good to scream.
    “‘What were you thinking, Carlisle?’ Edward said. ‘Rosalie Hale?’” Rosalie imitated Edward’s irritated
tone to perfection. “I didn’t like the way he said my name, like there was something wrong with me.
    “‘I couldn’t just let her die,’ Carlisle said quietly. ‘It was too much — too horrible, too much waste.’
    “‘I know,’ Edward said, and I thought he sounded dismissive. It angered me. I didn’t know then that he
really could see exactly what Carlisle had seen.
    “‘It was too much waste. I couldn’t leave her,’ Carlisle repeated in a whisper.
    “‘Of course you couldn’t,’ Esme agreed.
    “‘People die all the time,’ Edward reminded him in a hard voice. ‘Don’t you think she’s just a little
recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search — not that anyone suspects the fiend,’ he
growled.
    “It pleased me that they seemed to know that Royce was guilty.
    “I didn’t realize that it was almost over — that I was getting stronger and that was why I was able to
concentrate on what they were saying. The pain was beginning to fade from my fingertips.
    “‘What are we going to do with her?’ Edward said disgustedly — or that’s how it sounded to me, at least.
    “Carlisle sighed. ‘That’s up to her, of course. She may want to go her own way.’

‘Here’s my Rose

     It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got paler.
     “It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadn’t realized how late it was.” She continued to
whisper almost inaudibly. “It was cold, too. Very cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and
I was worrying about the weather as I hurried home — I can remember that clearly. I remember every detail
about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this,
when so many pleasant memories have faded away completely. . . .”
     She sighed, and began whispering again. “Yes, I was worrying about the weather. . . . I didn’t want to
have to move the wedding indoors. . . .
     “I was a few streets from my house when I heard them. A cluster of men under a broken streetlamp,
laughing too loud. Drunk. I wished I’d called my father to escort me home, but the way was so short, it
seemed silly. And then he called my name.
     “‘Rose!’ he yelled, and the others laughed stupidly.
     “I hadn’t realized the drunks were so well dressed. It was Royce and some of his friends, sons of other
rich men.
     “‘Here’s my Rose!’ Royce shouted, laughing with them, sounding just as stupid. ‘You’re late. We’re cold,
you’ve kept us waiting so long.’”
     “I’d never seen him drink before. A toast, now and then, at a party. He’d told me he didn’t like
champagne. I hadn’t realized that he preferred something much stronger.
     “He had a new friend — the friend of a friend, come up from Atlanta.
     “‘What did I tell you, John,’ Royce crowed, grabbing my arm and pullingme closer. ‘Isn’t she lovelier
than all your Georgia peaches?’
     “The man named John was dark-haired and suntanned. He looked me over like I was a horse he was
buying.
     “‘It’s hard to tell,’ he drawled slowly. ‘She’s all covered up.’
     “They laughed, Royce like the rest.
     “Suddenly, Royce ripped my jacket from my shoulders — it was a gift from him — popping the brass
buttons off. They scattered all over the street.
     “‘Show him what you look like, Rose!’ He laughed again and then he tore my hat out of my hair. The pins
wrenched my hair from the roots, and I cried out in pain. They seemed to enjoy that — the sound of my pain.
. . .”
     Rosalie looked at me suddenly, as if she’d forgotten I was there. I was sure my face was as white as hers.
Unless it was green.
     “I won’t make you listen to the rest,” she said quietly. “They left me in the street, still laughing as they
stumbled away. They thought I was dead. They were teasing Royce that he would have to find a new bride.
He laughed and said he’d have to learn some patience first.

Why won't you leave me alone?

"I'm sorry, that was rude," he said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not
saying it isn't true," he continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," he chuckled. He
seemed to have recovered his good humor.

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" I asked severely.

"You're doing it again."

I sighed. "Fine then. What do you want to ask?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday — you know, the day of the
spring dance —"

"Are you trying to be funny?" I interrupted him, wheeling toward him. My
face got drenched as I looked up at his expression.

His eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers, so I
couldn't do anything rash.

"I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering
if you wanted a ride."

That was unexpected.

"What?" I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"Do you want a ride to Seattle?"

"With who?" I asked, mystified.

"Myself, obviously." He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking
to someone mentally handicapped.

I scowled at his perfect face.

"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His
voice was quiet as usual — velvet, muted.

I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were light again today, a deep,
golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled
thoughts.

"Why the traffic jam last night?" I demanded, still looking away. "I
thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating
me to death."

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He
snickered.

"You…" I gasped. I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like the
heat of my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more
amused.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," he continued.

"So you are trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler's van didn't do
the job?"

Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all
signs of humor gone.

"Bella, you are utterly absurd," he said, his low voice cold.

My palms tingled — I wanted so badly to hit something. I was surprised at
myself. I was usually a nonviolent person. I turned my back and started
to walk away.

"Wait," he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But
he was next to me, easily keeping pace.

That's all right

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I tried to be crafty as I hid my horror.

"That's all right, Dad, I'll probably just be in dressing rooms all day —
very boring."

"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any

period of time immediately put him off.

"Thanks." I smiled at him.

"Will you be back in time for the dance?"

Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school
dances were.

"No — I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that — I
didn't get my balance problems from my mother.

He did understand. "Oh, that's right," he realized.

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately
parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put
myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car.
Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle
at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it
before I could. I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me,
leaning casually against my truck.

"How do you do that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he
dropped it into my palm.

"Appear out of thin air."

Yeah, Bella?

Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green
peppers. I couldn't blame him — the closest edible Mexican food was
probably in southern California. But he was a cop, even if just a
small-town cop, so he was brave enough to take the first bite. He seemed
to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting me in the
kitchen.

"Dad?" I asked when he was almost done.

"Yeah, Bella?"

"Um, I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle for the day
a week from Saturday… if that's okay?" I didn't want to ask permission —
it set a bad precedent — but I felt rude, so I tacked it on at the end.

"Why?" He sounded surprised, as if he were unable to imagine something
that Forks couldn't offer.

"Well, I wanted to get few books — the library here is pretty limited —
and maybe look at some clothes." I had more money than I was used to
having, since, thanks to Charlie, I hadn't had to pay for a car. Not that
the truck didn't cost me quite a bit in the gas department.

"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage," he said, echoing
my thoughts.

"I know, I'll stop in Montesano and Olympia — and Tacoma if I have to."

"Are you going all by yourself?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was
suspicious I had a secret boyfriend or just worried about car trouble.

"Yes."

"Seattle is a big city — you could get lost," he fretted.

"Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle — and I can read a map,
don't worry about it."

It was Jessica,

It was Jessica, and she was jubilant; Mike had caught her after school to
accept her invitation. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred. She
had to go, she wanted to call Angela and Lauren to tell them. I suggested
— with casual innocence — that maybe Angela, the shy girl who had Biology

with me, could ask Eric. And Lauren, a standoffish girl who had always
ignored me at the lunch table, could ask Tyler; I'd heard he was still
available. Jess thought that was a great idea. Now that she was sure of
Mike, she actually sounded sincere when she said she wished I would go to
the dance. I gave her my Seattle excuse.

After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner — dicing the chicken
especially; I didn't want to take another trip to the emergency room. But
my head was spinning, trying to analyze every word Edward had spoken
today. What did he mean, it was better if we weren't friends?

My stomach twisted as I realized what he must have meant. He must see how
absorbed I was by him; he must not want to lead me on… so we couldn't
even be friends… because he wasn't interested in me at all.

Of course he wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily, my eyes stinging
— a delayed reaction to the onions. I wasn't interesting. And he was.
Interesting… and brilliant… and mysterious… and perfect… and beautiful…
and possibly able to lift full-sized vans with one hand.

Well, that was fine. I could leave him alone. I would leave him alone. I
would get through my self-imposed sentence here in purgatory, and then
hopefully some school in the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer
me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts on sunny beaches and palm trees
as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.

I beg you to do so,

　　Haidee turned her eyes towards Monte Cristo, who, making atthe same time some imperceptible sign, murmured, -- "Go on."

　　"Nothing is ever so firmly impressed on the mind as thememory of our early childhood, and with the exception of thetwo scenes I have just described to you, all my earliestreminiscences are fraught with deepest sadness."

　　"Speak, speak, signora," said Albert, "I am listening withthe most intense delight and interest to all you say."

　　Haidee answered his remark with a melancholy smile. "Youwish me, then, to relate the history of my past sorrows?"said she.

　　"I beg you to do so," replied Albert.

　　"Well, I was but four years old when one night I wassuddenly awakened by my mother. We were in the palace ofYanina; she snatched me from the cushions on which I wassleeping, and on opening my eyes I saw hers filled withtears. She took me away without speaking. When I saw herweeping I began to cry too. `Hush, child!' said she. Atother times in spite of maternal endearments or threats, Ihad with a child's caprice been accustomed to indulge myfeelings of sorrow or anger by crying as much as I feltinclined; but on this occasion there was an intonation ofsuch extreme terror in my mother's voice when she enjoinedme to silence, that I ceased crying as soon as her commandwas given. She bore me rapidly away.

　　"I saw then that we were descending a large staircase;around us were all my mother's servants carrying trunks,bags, ornaments, jewels, purses of gold, with which theywere hurrying away in the greatest distraction.

　　"Behind the women came a guard of twenty men armed with longguns and pistols, and dressed in the costume which theGreeks have assumed since they have again become a nation.You may imagine there was something startling and ominous,"said Haidee, shaking her head and turning pale at the mereremembrance of the scene, "in this long file of slaves andwomen only half-aroused from sleep, or at least so theyappeared to me, who was myself scarcely awake. Here andthere on the walls of the staircase, were reflected giganticshadows, which trembled in the flickering light of thepine-torches till they seemed to reach to the vaulted roofabove.

　　"`Quick!' said a voice at the end of the gallery. This voicemade every one bow before it, resembling in its effect thewind passing over a field of wheat, by its superior strengthforcing every ear to yield obeisance. As for me, it made metremble. This voice was that of my father. He came last,clothed in his splendid robes and holding in his hand thecarbine which your emperor presented him. He was leaning onthe shoulder of his favorite Selim, and he drove us allbefore him, as a shepherd would his straggling flock. Myfather," said Haidee, raising her head, "was thatillustrious man known in Europe under the name of AliTepelini, pasha of Yanina, and before whom Turkey trembled."

　　Albert, without knowing why, started on hearing these wordspronounced with such a haughty and dignified accent; itappeared to him as if there was something supernaturallygloomy and terrible in the expression which gleamed from thebrilliant eyes of Haidee at this moment; she appeared like aPythoness evoking a spectre, as she recalled to his mind theremembrance of the fearful death of this man, to the news ofwhich all Europe had listened with horror. "Soon," saidHaidee, "we halted on our march, and found ourselves on theborders of a lake. My mother pressed me to her throbbingheart, and at the distance of a few paces I saw my father,who was glancing anxiously around. Four marble steps leddown to the water's edge, and below them was a boat floatingon the tide.

I left it when I was but five years old,

　　Ali left the room. The cups of coffee were all prepared,with the addition of sugar, which had been brought forAlbert. Monte Cristo and Haidee took the beverage in theoriginal Arabian manner, that is to say, without sugar.Haidee took the porcelain cup in her little slender fingersand conveyed it to her mouth with all the innocentartlessness of a child when eating or drinking somethingwhich it likes. At this moment two women entered, bringingsalvers filled with ices and sherbet, which they placed ontwo small tables appropriated to that purpose. "My dearhost, and you, signora," said Albert, in Italian, "excuse myapparent stupidity. I am quite bewildered, and it is naturalthat it should be so. Here I am in the heart of Paris; but amoment ago I heard the rumbling of the omnibuses and thetinkling of the bells of the lemonade-sellers, and now Ifeel as if I were suddenly transported to the East; not suchas I have seen it, but such as my dreams have painted it.Oh, signora, if I could but speak Greek, your conversation,added to the fairy-scene which surrounds me, would furnishan evening of such delight as it would be impossible for meever to forget."

　　"I speak sufficient Italian to enable me to converse withyou, sir," said Haidee quietly; "and if you like what isEastern, I will do my best to secure the gratification ofyour tastes while you are here."

　　"On what subject shall I converse with her?" said Albert, ina low tone to Monte Cristo.

　　"Just what you please; you may speak of her country and ofher youthful reminiscences, or if you like it better you cantalk of Rome, Naples, or Florence."

　　"Oh," said Albert, "it is of no use to be in the company ofa Greek if one converses just in the same style as with aParisian; let me speak to her of the East."

　　"Do so then, for of all themes which you could choose thatwill be the most agreeable to her taste." Albert turnedtowards Haidee. "At what age did you leave Greece, signora?"asked he.

　　"I left it when I was but five years old," replied Haidee.

　　"And have you any recollection of your country?"

　　"When I shut my eyes and think, I seem to see it all again.The mind can see as well as the body. The body forgetssometimes -- but the mind never forgets."

　　"And how far back into the past do your recollectionsextend?"

　　"I could scarcely walk when my mother, who was calledVasiliki, which means royal," said the young girl, tossingher head proudly, "took me by the hand, and after putting inour purse all the money we possessed, we went out, bothcovered with veils, to solicit alms for the prisoners,saying, `He who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.'Then when our purse was full we returned to the palace, andwithout saying a word to my father, we sent it to theconvent, where it was divided amongst the prisoners."

What is his name?

　　Albert passed his hand through his hair, and curled hismustache, then, having satisfied himself as to his personalappearance, followed the count into the room, the latterhaving previously resumed his hat and gloves. Ali wasstationed as a kind of advanced guard, and the door was keptby the three French attendants, commanded by Myrtho. Haideewas awaiting her visitors in the first room of herapartments, which was the drawing-room. Her large eyes weredilated with surprise and expectation, for it was the firsttime that any man, except Monte Cristo, had been accorded anentrance into her presence. She was sitting on a sofa placedin an angle of the room, with her legs crossed under her inthe Eastern fashion, and seemed to have made for herself, asit were, a kind of nest in the rich Indian silks whichenveloped her. Near her was the instrument on which she hadjust been playing; it was elegantly fashioned, and worthy ofits mistress. On perceiving Monte Cristo, she arose andwelcomed him with a smile peculiar to herself, expressive atonce of the most implicit obedience and also of the deepestlove. Monte Cristo advanced towards her and extended hishand, which she as usual raised to her lips.

　　Albert had proceeded no farther than the door, where heremained rooted to the spot, being completely fascinated bythe sight of such surpassing beauty, beheld as it was forthe first time, and of which an inhabitant of more northernclimes could form no adequate idea.

　　"Whom do you bring?" asked the young girl in Romaic, ofMonte Cristo; "is it a friend, a brother, a simpleacquaintance, or an enemy."

　　"A friend," said Monte Cristo in the same language.

　　"What is his name?"

　　"Count Albert; it is the same man whom I rescued from thehands of the banditti at Rome."

　　"In what language would you like me to converse with him?"

　　Monte Cristo turned to Albert. "Do you know modern Greek,"asked he.

　　"Alas, no," said Albert; "nor even ancient Greek, my dearcount; never had Homer or Plato a more unworthy scholar thanmyself."

　　"Then," said Haidee, proving by her remark that she hadquite understood Monte Cristo's question and Albert'sanswer, "then I will speak either in French or Italian, ifmy lord so wills it."

　　Monte Cristo reflected one instant. "You will speak inItalian," said he. Then, turning towards Albert, -- "It is apity you do not understand either ancient or modern Greek,both of which Haidee speaks so fluently; the poor child willbe obliged to talk to you in Italian, which will give youbut a very false idea of her powers of conversation." Thecount made a sign to Haidee to address his visitor. "Sir,"she said to Morcerf, "you are most welcome as the friend ofmy lord and master." This was said in excellent Tuscan, andwith that soft Roman accent which makes the language ofDante as sonorous as that of Homer. Then, turning to Ali,she directed him to bring coffee and pipes, and when he hadleft the room to execute the orders of his young mistressshe beckoned Albert to approach nearer to her. Monte Cristoand Morcerf drew their seats towards a small table, on whichwere arranged music, drawings, and vases of flowers. Alithen entered bringing coffee and chibouques; as to M.Baptistin, this portion of the building was interdicted tohim. Albert refused the pipe which the Nubian offered him."Oh, take it -- take it," said the count; "Haidee is almostas civilized as a Parisian; the smell of an Havana isdisagreeable to her, but the tobacco of the East is a mostdelicious perfume, you know."

You may venture to ask me anything.

　　"Wonderful! Really, my dear count, you seem to throw a sortof magic influence over all in which you are concerned; whenI listen to you, existence no longer seems reality, but awaking dream. Now, I am perhaps going to make an imprudentand thoughtless request, but" --

　　"Say on."

　　"But, since you go out with Haidee, and sometimes even takeher to the opera" --

　　"Well?"

　　"I think I may venture to ask you this favor."

　　"You may venture to ask me anything."

　　"Well then, my dear count, present me to your princess."

　　"I will do so; but on two conditions."

　　"I accept them at once."

　　"The first is, that you will never tell any one that I havegranted the interview."

　　"Very well," said Albert, extending his hand; "I swear Iwill not."

　　"The second is, that you will not tell her that your fatherever served hers."

　　"I give you my oath that I will not."

　　"Enough, viscount; you will remember those two vows, willyou not? But I know you to be a man of honor." The countagain struck the gong. Ali reappeared. "Tell Haidee," saidhe, "that I will take coffee with her, and give her tounderstand that I desire permission to present one of myfriends to her." Ali bowed and left the room. "Now,understand me," said the count, "no direct questions, mydear Morcerf; if you wish to know anything, tell me, and Iwill ask her."

　　"Agreed." Ali reappeared for the third time, and drew backthe tapestried hanging which concealed the door, to signifyto his master and Albert that they were at liberty to passon. "Let us go in," said Monte Cristo.

And is her name a secret?

　　"I thought so. But how did it happen that such a greatprincess became a slave?"

　　"How was it that Dionysius the Tyrant became a schoolmaster?The fortune of war, my dear viscount, -- the caprice offortune; that is the way in which these things are to beaccounted for."

　　"And is her name a secret?"

　　"As regards the generality of mankind it is; but not foryou, my dear viscount, who are one of my most intimatefriends, and on whose silence I feel I may rely, if Iconsider it necessary to enjoin it -- may I not do so?"

　　"Certainly; on my word of honor."

　　"You know the history of the pasha of Yanina, do you not?"

　　"Of Ali Tepelini?* Oh, yes; it was in his service that myfather made his fortune."

　　"True, I had forgotten that."

　　* Ali Pasha, "The Lion," was born at Tepelini, an Albanianvillage at the foot of the Klissoura Mountains, in 1741. Bydiplomacy and success in arms he became almost supreme rulerof Albania, Epirus, and adjacent territory. Having arousedthe enmity of the Sultan, he was proscribed and put to deathby treachery in 1822, at the age of eighty. -- Ed.

　　"Well, what is Haidee to Ali Tepelini?"

　　"Merely his daughter."

　　"What? the daughter of Ali Pasha?"

　　"Of Ali Pasha and the beautiful Vasiliki."

　　"And your slave?"

　　"Ma foi, yes."

　　"But how did she become so?"

　　"Why, simply from the circumstance of my having bought herone day, as I was passing through the market atConstantinople."

your excellency is right

　　"Philosophy, M. Bertuccio," interrupted the Count; "you havedone a little of everything in your life."

　　"Oh, excellency,"

　　"No, no; but philosophy at half-past ten at night issomewhat late; yet I have no other observation to make, forwhat you say is correct, which is more than can be said forall philosophy."

　　"My journeys became more and more extensive and moreproductive. Assunta took care of all, and our little fortuneincreased. One day as I was setting off on an expedition,`Go,' said she; `at your return I will give you a surprise.'I questioned her, but in vain; she would tell me nothing,and I departed. Our expedition lasted nearly six weeks; wehad been to Lucca to take in oil, to Leghorn for Englishcottons, and we ran our cargo without opposition, andreturned home full of joy. When I entered the house, thefirst thing I beheld in the middle of Assunta's chamber wasa cradle that might be called sumptuous compared with therest of the furniture, and in it a baby seven or eightmonths old. I uttered a cry of joy; the only moments ofsadness I had known since the assassination of the procureurwere caused by the recollection that I had abandoned thischild. For the assassination itself I had never felt anyremorse. Poor Assunta had guessed all. She had profited bymy absence, and furnished with the half of the linen, andhaving written down the day and hour at which I haddeposited the child at the asylum, had set off for Paris,and had reclaimed it. No objection was raised, and theinfant was given up to her. Ah, I confess, your excellency,when I saw this poor creature sleeping peacefully in itscradle, I felt my eyes filled with tears. `Ah, Assunta,'cried I, `you are an excellent woman, and heaven will blessyou.'"

　　"This," said Monte Cristo, "is less correct than yourphilosophy, -- it is only faith."

　　"Alas, your excellency is right," replied Bertuccio, "andGod made this infant the instrument of our punishment. Neverdid a perverse nature declare itself more prematurely, andyet it was not owing to any fault in his bringing up. He wasa most lovely child, with large blue eyes, of that deepcolor that harmonizes so well with the blond complexion;only his hair, which was too light, gave his face a mostsingular expression, and added to the vivacity of his look,and the malice of his smile. Unfortunately, there is aproverb which says that `red is either altogether good oraltogether bad.' The proverb was but too correct as regardedBenedetto, and even in his infancy he manifested the worstdisposition. It is true that the indulgence of hisfoster-mother encouraged him. This child, for whom my poorsister would go to the town, five or six leagues off, topurchase the earliest fruits and the most temptingsweetmeats, preferred to Palma grapes or Genoese preserves,the chestnuts stolen from a neighbor's orchard, or the driedapples in his loft, when he could eat as well of the nutsand apples that grew in my garden. One day, when Benedettowas about five or six, our neighbor Vasilio, who, accordingto the custom of the country, never locked up his purse orhis valuables -- for, as your excellency knows, there are nothieves in Corsica -- complained that he had lost a louisout of his purse; we thought he must have made a mistake incounting his money, but he persisted in the accuracy of hisstatement. One day, Benedetto, who had been gone from thehouse since morning, to our great anxiety, did not returnuntil late in the evening, dragging a monkey after him,which he said he had found chained to the foot of a tree.For more than a month past, the mischievous child, who knewnot what to wish for, had taken it into his head to have amonkey. A boatman, who had passed by Rogliano, and who hadseveral of these animals, whose tricks had greatly divertedhim, had, doubtless, suggested this idea to him. `Monkeysare not found in our woods chained to trees,' said I;`confess how you obtained this animal.' Benedetto maintainedthe truth of what he had said, and accompanied it withdetails that did more honor to his imagination than to hisveracity. I became angry; he began to laugh, I threatened tostrike him, and he made two steps backwards. `You cannotbeat me,' said he; `you have no right, for you are not myfather.'

It was the end of September

　　"That evening," continued Bertuccio, "I could have killedthe procureur, but as I was not sufficiently acquainted withthe neighborhood, I was fearful of not killing him on thespot, and that if his cries were overheard I might be taken;so I put it off until the next occasion, and in order thatnothing should escape me, I took a chamber looking into thestreet bordered by the wall of the garden. Three days after,about seven o'clock in the evening, I saw a servant onhorseback leave the house at full gallop, and take the roadto Sevres. I concluded that he was going to Versailles, andI was not deceived. Three hours later, the man returnedcovered with dust, his errand was performed, and two minutesafter, another man on foot, muffled in a mantle, opened thelittle door of the garden, which he closed after him. Idescended rapidly; although I had not seen Villefort's face,I recognized him by the beating of my heart. I crossed thestreet, and stopped at a post placed at the angle of thewall, and by means of which I had once before looked intothe garden. This time I did not content myself with looking,but I took my knife out of my pocket, felt that the pointwas sharp, and sprang over the wall. My first care was torun to the door; he had left the key in it, taking thesimple precaution of turning it twice in the lock. Nothing,then, preventing my escape by this means, I examined thegrounds. The garden was long and narrow; a stretch of smoothturf extended down the middle, and at the corners wereclumps of trees with thick and massy foliage, that made abackground for the shrubs and flowers. In order to go fromthe door to the house, or from the house to the door, M. deVillefort would be obliged to pass by one of these clumps oftrees.

　　"It was the end of September; the wind blew violently. Thefaint glimpses of the pale moon, hidden momentarily bymasses of dark clouds that were sweeping across the sky,whitened the gravel walks that led to the house, but wereunable to pierce the obscurity of the thick shrubberies, inwhich a man could conceal himself without any fear ofdiscovery. I hid myself in the one nearest to the pathVillefort must take, and scarcely was I there when, amidstthe gusts of wind, I fancied I heard groans; but you know,or rather you do not know, your excellency, that he who isabout to commit an assassination fancies that he hears lowcries perpetually ringing in his ears. Two hours passedthus, during which I imagined I heard moans repeatedly.Midnight struck. As the last stroke died away, I saw a faintlight shine through the windows of the private staircase bywhich we have just descended. The door opened, and the manin the mantle reappeared. The terrible moment had come, butI had so long been prepared for it that my heart did notfail in the least. I drew my knife from my pocket again,opened it, and made ready to strike. The man in the mantleadvanced towards me, but as he drew near I saw that he had aweapon in his hand. I was afraid, not of a struggle, but ofa failure. When he was only a few paces from me, I saw thatwhat I had taken for a weapon was only a spade. I was stillunable to divine for what reason M. de Villefort had thisspade in his hands, when he stopped close to the thicketwhere I was, glanced round, and began to dig a hole in theearth. I then perceived that he was hiding something underhis mantle, which he laid on the grass in order to dig morefreely. Then, I confess, curiosity mingled with hatred; Iwished to see what Villefort was going to do there, and Iremained motionless, holding my breath. Then an idea crossedmy mind, which was confirmed when I saw the procureur liftfrom under his mantle a box, two feet long, and six or eightinches deep. I let him place the box in the hole he hadmade, then, while he stamped with his feet to remove alltraces of his occupation, I rushed on him and plunged myknife into his breast, exclaiming, -- `I am GiovanniBertuccio; thy death for my brother's; thy treasure for hiswidow; thou seest that my vengeance is more complete than Ihad hoped.' I know not if he heard these words; I think hedid not, for he fell without a cry. I felt his blood gushover my face, but I was intoxicated, I was delirious, andthe blood refreshed, instead of burning me. In a second Ihad disinterred the box; then, that it might not be known Ihad done so, I filled up the hole, threw the spade over thewall, and rushed through the door, which I double-locked,carrying off the key."

As I entered Nimes

　　"As I entered Nimes, I literally waded in blood; at everystep you encountered dead bodies and bands of murderers, whokilled, plundered, and burned. At the sight of thisslaughter and devastation I became terrified, not for myself-- for I, a simple Corsican fisherman, had nothing to fear;on the contrary, that time was most favorable for ussmugglers -- but for my brother, a soldier of the empire,returning from the army of the Loire, with his uniform andhis epaulets, there was everything to apprehend. I hastenedto the inn-keeper. My misgivings had been but too true. Mybrother had arrived the previous evening at Nimes, and, atthe very door of the house where he was about to demandhospitality, he had been assassinated. I did all in my powerto discover the murderers, but no one durst tell me theirnames, so much were they dreaded. I then thought of thatFrench justice of which I had heard so much, and whichfeared nothing, and I went to the king's attorney."

　　"And this king's attorney was named Villefort?" asked MonteCristo carelessly.

　　"Yes, your excellency; he came from Marseilles, where he hadbeen deputy-procureur. His zeal had procured himadvancement, and he was said to be one of the first who hadinformed the government of the departure from the Island ofElba."

　　"Then," said Monte Cristo "you went to him?"

　　"`Monsieur,' I said, `my brother was assassinated yesterdayin the streets of Nimes, I know not by whom, but it is yourduty to find out. You are the representative of justicehere, and it is for justice to avenge those she has beenunable to protect.' -- `Who was your brother?' asked he. --`A lieutenant in the Corsican battalion.' -- `A soldier ofthe usurper, then?' -- `A soldier of the French army.' --`Well,' replied he, `he has smitten with the sword, and hehas perished by the sword.' -- `You are mistaken, monsieur,'I replied; `he has perished by the poniard.' -- `What do youwant me to do?' asked the magistrate. -- `I have alreadytold you -- avenge him.' -- `On whom?' -- `On hismurderers.' -- `How should I know who they are?' -- `Orderthem to be sought for.' -- `Why, your brother has beeninvolved in a quarrel, and killed in a duel. All these oldsoldiers commit excesses which were tolerated in the time ofthe emperor, but which are not suffered now, for the peoplehere do not like soldiers of such disorderly conduct.' --`Monsieur,' I replied, `it is not for myself that I entreatyour interference -- I should grieve for him or avenge him,but my poor brother had a wife, and were anything to happento me, the poor creature would perish from want, for mybrother's pay alone kept her. Pray, try and obtain a smallgovernment pension for her.'

　　"`Every revolution has its catastrophes,' returned M. deVillefort; `your brother has been the victim of this. It isa misfortune, and government owes nothing to his family. Ifwe are to judge by all the vengeance that the followers ofthe usurper exercised on the partisans of the king, when, intheir turn, they were in power, your brother would beto-day, in all probability, condemned to death. What hashappened is quite natural, and in conformity with the law ofreprisals.' -- `What,' cried I, `do you, a magistrate, speakthus to me?' -- `All these Corsicans are mad, on my honor,'replied M. de Villefort; `they fancy that their countrymanis still emperor. You have mistaken the time, you shouldhave told me this two months ago, it is too late now. Gonow, at once, or I shall have you put out.'

I will keep my word.

　　"No, monsieur, and yet I recollect all things as clearly asif they had happened but then. I had a brother, an elderbrother, who was in the service of the emperor; he hadbecome lieutenant in a regiment composed entirely ofCorsicans. This brother was my only friend; we becameorphans -- I at five, he at eighteen. He brought me up as ifI had been his son, and in 1814 he married. When the emperorreturned from the Island of Elba, my brother instantlyjoined the army, was slightly wounded at Waterloo, andretired with the army beyond the Loire."

　　"But that is the history of the Hundred Days, M. Bertuccio,"said the count; "unless I am mistaken, it has been alreadywritten."

　　"Excuse me, excellency, but these details are necessary, andyou promised to be patient."

　　"Go on; I will keep my word."

　　"One day we received a letter. I should tell you that welived in the little village of Rogliano, at the extremity ofCape Corso. This letter was from my brother. He told us thatthe army was disbanded, and that he should return byChateauroux, Clermont-Ferrand, Le Puy, and Nimes; and, if Ihad any money, he prayed me to leave it for him at Nimes,with an inn-keeper with whom I had dealings."

　　"In the smuggling line?" said Monte Cristo.

　　"Eh, your excellency? Every one must live."

　　"Certainly; go on."

　　"I loved my brother tenderly, as I told your excellency, andI resolved not to send the money, but to take it to himmyself. I possessed a thousand francs. I left five hundredwith Assunta, my sister-in-law, and with the other fivehundred I set off for Nimes. It was easy to do so, and as Ihad my boat and a lading to take in at sea, everythingfavored my project. But, after we had taken in our cargo,the wind became contrary, so that we were four or five dayswithout being able to enter the Rhone. At last, however, wesucceeded, and worked up to Arles. I left the boat betweenBellegarde and Beaucaire, and took the road to Nimes."

　　"We are getting to the story now?"

　　"Yes, your excellency; excuse me, but, as you will see, Ionly tell you what is absolutely necessary. Just at thistime the famous massacres took place in the south of France.Three brigands, called Trestaillon, Truphemy, and Graffan,publicly assassinated everybody whom they suspected ofBonapartism. You have doubtless heard of these massacres,your excellency?"

　　"Vaguely; I was far from France at that period. Go on."

It ought to do so, at least.

　　"Yes, monsieur, one and twenty years ago; and since then wehave not seen the poor marquis three times."

　　"Thanks, thanks," said Monte Cristo, judging from thesteward's utter prostration that he could not stretch thecord further without danger of breaking it. "Give me alight."

　　"Shall I accompany you, monsieur?"

　　"No, it is unnecessary; Bertuccio will show me a light." AndMonte Cristo accompanied these words by the gift of two goldpieces, which produced a torrent of thanks and blessingsfrom the concierge. "Ah, monsieur," said he, after havingvainly searched on the mantle-piece and the shelves, "I havenot got any candles."

　　"Take one of the carriage-lamps, Bertuccio," said the count,"and show me the apartments." The steward obeyed in silence,but it was easy to see, from the manner in which the handthat held the light trembled, how much it cost him to obey.They went over a tolerably large ground-floor; a secondfloor consisted of a salon, a bathroom, and two bedrooms;near one of the bedrooms they came to a winding staircasethat led down to the garden.

　　"Ah, here is a private staircase," said the count; "that isconvenient. Light me, M. Bertuccio, and go first; we willsee where it leads to."

　　"Monsieur," replied Bertuccio, "it leads to the garden."

　　"And, pray, how do you know that?"

　　"It ought to do so, at least."

　　"Well, let us be sure of that." Bertuccio sighed, and wenton first; the stairs did, indeed, lead to the garden. At theouter door the steward paused. "Go on, Monsieur Bertuccio,"said the count. But he who was addressed stood there,stupefied, bewildered, stunned; his haggard eyes glancedaround, as if in search of the traces of some terribleevent, and with his clinched hands he seemed striving toshut out horrible recollections. "Well," insisted the Count."No, no," cried Bertuccio, setting down the lantern at theangle of the interior wall. "No, monsieur, it is impossible;I can go no farther."

　　"What does this mean?" demanded the irresistible voice ofMonte Cristo.

　　"Why, you must see, your excellency," cried the steward,"that this is not natural; that, having a house to purchase,you purchase it exactly at Auteuil, and that, purchasing itat Auteuil, this house should be No. 28, Rue de la Fontaine.Oh, why did I not tell you all? I am sure you would not haveforced me to come. I hoped your house would have been someother one than this; as if there was not another house atAuteuil than that of the assassination!"

　　The dog died on the spot, and we left the doctor endeavouring to recover him, by the same operation.

　　I visited many other apartments, but shall not trouble my reader with all the curiosities I observed, being studious of brevity.

　　I had hitherto seen only one side of the academy, the other being appropriated to the advancers of speculative learning, of whom I shall say something, when I have mentioned one illustrious person more, who is called among them "the universal artist."  He told us "he had been thirty years employing his thoughts for the improvement of human life."  He had two large rooms full of wonderful curiosities, and fifty men at work.  Some were condensing air into a dry tangible substance, by extracting the nitre, and letting the aqueous or fluid particles percolate; others softening marble, for pillows and pin-cushions; others petrifying the hoofs of a living horse, to preserve them from foundering.  The artist himself was at that time busy upon two great designs; the first, to sow land with chaff, wherein he affirmed the true seminal virtue to be contained, as he demonstrated by several experiments, which I was not skilful enough to comprehend.  The other was, by a certain composition of gums, minerals, and vegetables, outwardly applied, to prevent the growth of wool upon two young lambs; and he hoped, in a reasonable time to propagate the breed of naked sheep, all over the kingdom.

　　We crossed a walk to the other part of the academy, where, as I have already said, the projectors in speculative learning resided.

　　The first professor I saw, was in a very large room, with forty pupils about him.  After salutation, observing me to look earnestly upon a frame, which took up the greatest part of both the length and breadth of the room, he said, "Perhaps I might wonder to see him employed in a project for improving speculative knowledge, by practical and mechanical operations.  But the world would soon be sensible of its usefulness; and he flattered himself, that a more noble, exalted thought never sprang in any other man's head.  Every one knew how laborious the usual method is of attaining to arts and sciences; whereas, by his contrivance, the most ignorant person, at a reasonable charge, and with a little bodily labour, might write books in philosophy, poetry, politics, laws, mathematics, and theology, without the least assistance from genius or study."  He then led me to the frame, about the sides, whereof all his pupils stood in ranks.  It was twenty feet square, placed in the middle of the room.  The superfices was composed of several bits of wood, about the bigness of a die, but some larger than others.  They were all linked together by slender wires.  These bits of wood were covered, on every square, with paper pasted on them; and on these papers were written all the words of their language, in their several moods, tenses, and declensions; but without any order.  The professor then desired me "to observe; for he was going to set his engine at work."  The pupils, at his command, took each of them hold of an iron handle, whereof there were forty fixed round the edges of the frame; and giving them a sudden turn, the whole disposition of the words was entirely changed.  He then commanded six-and-thirty of the lads, to read the several lines softly, as they appeared upon the frame; and where they found three or four words together that might make part of a sentence, they dictated to the four remaining boys, who were scribes.  This work was repeated three or four times, and at every turn, the engine was so contrived, that the words shifted into new places, as the square bits of wood moved upside down.

　　In another apartment I was highly pleased with a projector who had found a device of ploughing the ground with hogs, to save the charges of ploughs, cattle, and labour.  The method is this:  in an acre of ground you bury, at six inches distance and eight deep, a quantity of acorns, dates, chestnuts, and other mast or vegetables, whereof these animals are fondest; then you drive six hundred or more of them into the field, where, in a few days, they will root up the whole ground in search of their food, and make it fit for sowing, at the same time manuring it with their dung:  it is true, upon experiment, they found the charge and trouble very great, and they had little or no crop.  However it is not doubted, that this invention may be capable of great improvement.

　　I went into another room, where the walls and ceiling were all hung round with cobwebs, except a narrow passage for the artist to go in and out.  At my entrance, he called aloud to me, "not to disturb his webs."  He lamented "the fatal mistake the world had been so long in, of using silkworms, while we had such plenty of domestic insects who infinitely excelled the former, because they understood how to weave, as well as spin."  And he proposed further, "that by employing spiders, the charge of dyeing silks should be wholly saved;" whereof I was fully convinced, when he showed me a vast number of flies most beautifully coloured, wherewith he fed his spiders, assuring us "that the webs would take a tincture from them; and as he had them of all hues, he hoped to fit everybody's fancy, as soon as he could find proper food for the flies, of certain gums, oils, and other glutinous matter, to give a strength and consistence to the threads."

　　There was an astronomer, who had undertaken to place a sun-dial upon the great weathercock on the town-house, by adjusting the annual and diurnal motions of the earth and sun, so as to answer and coincide with all accidental turnings of the wind.

　　I was complaining of a small fit of the colic, upon which my conductor led me into a room where a great physician resided, who was famous for curing that disease, by contrary operations from the same instrument.  He had a large pair of bellows, with a long slender muzzle of ivory:  this he conveyed eight inches up the anus, and drawing in the wind, he affirmed he could make the guts as lank as a dried bladder.  But when the disease was more stubborn and violent, he let in the muzzle while the bellows were full of wind, which he discharged into the body of the patient; then withdrew the instrument to replenish it, clapping his thumb strongly against the orifice of then fundament; and this being repeated three or four times, the adventitious wind would rush out, bringing the noxious along with it, (like water put into a pump), and the patient recovered.  I saw him try both experiments upon a dog, but could not discern any effect from the former.  After the latter the animal was ready to burst, and made so violent a discharge as was very offensive to me and my companion.

　　CHAPTER V.

　　[The author permitted to see the grand academy of Lagado.  The academy largely described.  The arts wherein the professors employ themselves.]

　　This academy is not an entire single building, but a continuation of several houses on both sides of a street, which growing waste, was purchased and applied to that use.

　　I was received very kindly by the warden, and went for many days to the academy.  Every room has in it one or more projectors; and I believe I could not be in fewer than five hundred rooms.

　　The first man I saw was of a meagre aspect, with sooty hands and face, his hair and beard long, ragged, and singed in several places.  His clothes, shirt, and skin, were all of the same colour. He has been eight years upon a project for extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which were to be put in phials hermetically sealed, and let out to warm the air in raw inclement summers.  He told me, he did not doubt, that, in eight years more, he should be able to supply the governor's gardens with sunshine, at a reasonable rate: but he complained that his stock was low, and entreated me "to give him something as an encouragement to ingenuity, especially since this had been a very dear season for cucumbers."  I made him a small present, for my lord had furnished me with money on purpose, because he knew their practice of begging from all who go to see them.

　　I went into another chamber, but was ready to hasten back, being almost overcome with a horrible stink.  My conductor pressed me forward, conjuring me in a whisper "to give no offence, which would be highly resented;" and therefore I durst not so much as stop my nose.  The projector of this cell was the most ancient student of the academy; his face and beard were of a pale yellow; his hands and clothes daubed over with filth.  When I was presented to him, he gave me a close embrace, a compliment I could well have excused. His employment, from his first coming into the academy, was an operation to reduce human excrement to its original food, by separating the several parts, removing the tincture which it receives from the gall, making the odour exhale, and scumming off the saliva.  He had a weekly allowance, from the society, of a vessel filled with human ordure, about the bigness of a Bristol barrel.

　　I saw another at work to calcine ice into gunpowder; who likewise showed me a treatise he had written concerning the malleability of fire, which he intended to publish.

　　There was a most ingenious architect, who had contrived a new method for building houses, by beginning at the roof, and working downward to the foundation; which he justified to me, by the like practice of those two prudent insects, the bee and the spider.

　　There was a man born blind, who had several apprentices in his own condition:  their employment was to mix colours for painters, which their master taught them to distinguish by feeling and smelling. It was indeed my misfortune to find them at that time not very perfect in their lessons, and the professor himself happened to be generally mistaken.  This artist is much encouraged and esteemed by the whole fraternity.

　　The sum of his discourse was to this effect:  "That about forty years ago, certain persons went up to Laputa, either upon business or diversion, and, after five months continuance, came back with a very little smattering in mathematics, but full of volatile spirits acquired in that airy region:  that these persons, upon their return, began to dislike the management of every thing below, and fell into schemes of putting all arts, sciences, languages, and mechanics, upon a new foot.  To this end, they procured a royal patent for erecting an academy of projectors in Lagado; and the humour prevailed so strongly among the people, that there is not a town of any consequence in the kingdom without such an academy.  In these colleges the professors contrive new rules and methods of agriculture and building, and new instruments, and tools for all trades and manufactures; whereby, as they undertake, one man shall do the work of ten; a palace may be built in a week, of materials so durable as to last for ever without repairing.  All the fruits of the earth shall come to maturity at whatever season we think fit to choose, and increase a hundred fold more than they do at present; with innumerable other happy proposals.  The only inconvenience is, that none of these projects are yet brought to perfection; and in the mean time, the whole country lies miserably waste, the houses in ruins, and the people without food or clothes. By all which, instead of being discouraged, they are fifty times more violently bent upon prosecuting their schemes, driven equally on by hope and despair:  that as for himself, being not of an enterprising spirit, he was content to go on in the old forms, to live in the houses his ancestors had built, and act as they did, in every part of life, without innovation:  that some few other persons of quality and gentry had done the same, but were looked on with an eye of contempt and ill-will, as enemies to art, ignorant, and ill common-wealth's men, preferring their own ease and sloth before the general improvement of their country."

　　His lordship added, "That he would not, by any further particulars, prevent the pleasure I should certainly take in viewing the grand academy, whither he was resolved I should go."  He only desired me to observe a ruined building, upon the side of a mountain about three miles distant, of which he gave me this account:  "That he had a very convenient mill within half a mile of his house, turned by a current from a large river, and sufficient for his own family, as well as a great number of his tenants; that about seven years ago, a club of those projectors came to him with proposals to destroy this mill, and build another on the side of that mountain, on the long ridge whereof a long canal must be cut, for a repository of water, to be conveyed up by pipes and engines to supply the mill, because the wind and air upon a height agitated the water, and thereby made it fitter for motion, and because the water, descending down a declivity, would turn the mill with half the current of a river whose course is more upon a level."  He said, "that being then not very well with the court, and pressed by many of his friends, he complied with the proposal; and after employing a hundred men for two years, the work miscarried, the projectors went off, laying the blame entirely upon him, railing at him ever since, and putting others upon the same experiment, with equal assurance of success, as well as equal disappointment."

　　In a few days we came back to town; and his excellency, considering the bad character he had in the academy, would not go with me himself, but recommended me to a friend of his, to bear me company thither.  My lord was pleased to represent me as a great admirer of projects, and a person of much curiosity and easy belief; which, indeed, was not without truth; for I had myself been a sort of projector in my younger days.

　　There was a great lord at court, nearly related to the king, and for that reason alone used with respect.  He was universally reckoned the most ignorant and stupid person among them.  He had performed many eminent services for the crown, had great natural and acquired parts, adorned with integrity and honour; but so ill an ear for music, that his detractors reported, "he had been often known to beat time in the wrong place;" neither could his tutors, without extreme difficulty, teach him to demonstrate the most easy proposition in the mathematics.  He was pleased to show me many marks of favour, often did me the honour of a visit, desired to be informed in the affairs of Europe, the laws and customs, the manners and learning of the several countries where I had travelled.  He listened to me with great attention, and made very wise observations on all I spoke.  He had two flappers attending him for state, but never made use of them, except at court and in visits of ceremony, and would always command them to withdraw, when we were alone together.

　　I entreated this illustrious person, to intercede in my behalf with his majesty, for leave to depart; which he accordingly did, as he was pleased to tell me, with regret:  for indeed he had made me several offers very advantageous, which, however, I refused, with expressions of the highest acknowledgment.

　　On the 16th of February I took leave of his majesty and the court. The king made me a present to the value of about two hundred pounds English, and my protector, his kinsman, as much more, together with a letter of recommendation to a friend of his in Lagado, the metropolis.  The island being then hovering over a mountain about two miles from it, I was let down from the lowest gallery, in the same manner as I had been taken up.

　　The continent, as far as it is subject to the monarch of the flying island, passes under the general name of BALNIBARBI; and the metropolis, as I said before, is called  LAGADO.  I felt some little satisfaction in finding myself on firm ground.  I walked to the city without any concern, being clad like one of the natives, and sufficiently instructed to converse with them.  I soon found out the person's house to whom I was recommended, presented my letter from his friend the grandee in the island, and was received with much kindness.  This great lord, whose name was Munodi, ordered me an apartment in his own house, where I continued during my stay, and was entertained in a most hospitable manner.

　　The next morning after my arrival, he took me in his chariot to see the town, which is about half the bigness of London; but the houses very strangely built, and most of them out of repair.  The people in the streets walked fast, looked wild, their eyes fixed, and were generally in rags.  We passed through one of the town gates, and went about three miles into the country, where I saw many labourers working with several sorts of tools in the ground, but was not able to conjecture what they were about:  neither did observe any expectation either of corn or grass, although the soil appeared to be excellent.  I could not forbear admiring at these odd appearances, both in town and country; and I made bold to desire my conductor, that he would be pleased to explain to me, what could be meant by so many busy heads, hands, and faces, both in the streets and the fields, because I did not discover any good effects they produced; but, on the contrary, I never knew a soil so unhappily cultivated, houses so ill contrived and so ruinous, or a people whose countenances and habit expressed so much misery and want.

"You brute!  You coward!" she cried.  "You have made me shoot a man, and I never shot a man in my life before."

"It's only a flesh-wound, and he isn't going to die," Sheldon managed to interpolate.

"What of that?  I shot him just the same.  There was no need for you to jump down there that way.  It was brutal and cowardly."

"Oh, now I say--" he began soothingly.

"Go away.  Don't you see I hate you! hate you!  Oh, won't you go away!"

Sheldon was white with anger.

"Then why in the name of common sense did you shoot?" he demanded.

"Be-be-because you were a white man," she sobbed.  "And Dad would never have left any white man in the lurch.  But it was your fault. You had no right to get yourself in such a position.  Besides, it wasn't necessary."

"I am afraid I don't understand," he said shortly, turning away. "We will talk it over later on."

"Look how I get on with the boys," she said, while he paused in the doorway, stiffly polite, to listen.  "There's those two sick boys I am nursing.  They will do anything for me when they get well, and I won't have to keep them in fear of their life all the time.  It is not necessary, I tell you, all this harshness and brutality.  What if they are cannibals?  They are human beings, just like you and me, and they are amenable to reason.  That is what distinguishes all of us from the lower animals."

He nodded and went out.

"I suppose I've been unforgivably foolish," was her greeting, when he returned several hours later from a round of the plantation. "I've been to the hospital, and the man is getting along all right. It is not a serious hurt."

The gang waited to see what Bellin-Jama would do, and Bellin-Jama stood still.

"Me no go," he said.

"You watch out, Bellin-Jama," Sheldon said sharply, "or I send you along Tulagi one big fella lashing.  My word, you catch 'm strong fella."

Bellin-Jama glared up belligerently.

"You want 'm fight," he said, putting up his fists in approved, returned-Queenslander style.

Now, in the Solomons, where whites are few and blacks are many, and where the whites do the ruling, such an offer to fight is the deadliest insult.  Blacks are not supposed to dare so highly as to offer to fight a white man.  At the best, all they can look for is to be beaten by the white man.

A murmur of admiration at Bellin-Jama's bravery went up from the listening blacks.  But Bellin-Jama's voice was still ringing in the air, and the murmuring was just beginning, when Sheldon cleared the rail, leaping straight downward.  From the top of the railing to the ground it was fifteen feet, and Bellin-Jama was directly beneath.  Sheldon's flying body struck him and crushed him to earth.  No blows were needed to be struck.  The black had been knocked helpless.  Joan, startled by the unexpected leap, saw Carin-Jama, The Silent, reach out and seize Sheldon by the throat as he was half-way to his feet, while the five-score blacks surged forward for the killing.  Her revolver was out, and Carin-Jama let go his grip, reeling backward with a bullet in his shoulder.  In that fleeting instant of action she had thought to shoot him in the arm, which, at that short distance, might reasonably have been achieved.  But the wave of savages leaping forward had changed her shot to the shoulder.  It was a moment when not the slightest chance could be taken.

The instant his throat was released, Sheldon struck out with his fist, and Carin-Jama joined his brother on the ground.  The mutiny was quelled, and five minutes more saw the brothers being carried to the hospital, and the mutineers, marshalled by the gang-bosses, on the way to the fields.

When Sheldon came up on the veranda, he found Joan collapsed on the steamer-chair and in tears.  The sight unnerved him as the row just over could not possibly have done.  A woman in tears was to him an embarrassing situation; and when that woman was Joan Lackland, from whom he had grown to expect anything unexpected, he was really frightened.  He glanced down at her helplessly, and moistened his lips.

"I want to thank you," he began.  "There isn't a doubt but what you saved my life, and I must say--"

She abruptly removed her hands, showing a wrathful and tear-stained face.

She sent her whale-boat down the coast twenty miles for limes and oranges, and wanted to know scathingly why said fruits had not long since been planted at Berande, while he was beneath contempt because there was no kitchen garden.  Mummy apples, which he had regarded as weeds, under her guidance appeared as appetizing breakfast fruit, and, at dinner, were metamorphosed into puddings that elicited his unqualified admiration.  Bananas, foraged from the bush, were served, cooked and raw, a dozen different ways, each one of which he declared was better than any other.  She or her sailors dynamited fish daily, while the Balesuna natives were paid tobacco for bringing in oysters from the mangrove swamps.  Her achievements with cocoanuts were a revelation.  She taught the cook how to make yeast from the milk, that, in turn, raised light and airy bread.  From the tip-top heart of the tree she concocted a delicious salad.  From the milk and the meat of the nut she made various sauces and dressings, sweet and sour, that were served, according to preparation, with dishes that ranged from fish to pudding.  She taught Sheldon the superiority of cocoanut cream over condensed cream, for use in coffee.  From the old and sprouting nuts she took the solid, spongy centres and turned them into salads.  Her forte seemed to be salads, and she astonished him with the deliciousness of a salad made from young bamboo shoots.  Wild tomatoes, which had gone to seed or been remorselessly hoed out from the beginning of Berande, were foraged for salads, soups, and sauces.  The chickens, which had always gone into the bush and hidden their eggs, were given laying-bins, and Joan went out herself to shoot wild duck and wild pigeons for the table.

"Not that I like to do this sort of work," she explained, in reference to the cookery; "but because I can't get away from Dad's training."

Among other things, she burned the pestilential hospital, quarrelled with Sheldon over the dead, and, in anger, set her own men to work building a new, and what she called a decent, hospital. She robbed the windows of their lawn and muslin curtains, replacing them with gaudy calico from the trade-store, and made herself several gowns.  When she wrote out a list of goods and clothing for herself, to be sent down to Sydney by the first steamer, Sheldon wondered how long she had made up her mind to stay.

She was certainly unlike any woman he had ever known or dreamed of. So far as he was concerned she was not a woman at all.  She neither languished nor blandished.  No feminine lures were wasted on him. He might have been her brother, or she his brother, for all sex had to do with the strange situation.  Any mere polite gallantry on his part was ignored or snubbed, and he had very early given up offering his hand to her in getting into a boat or climbing over a log, and he had to acknowledge to himself that she was eminently fitted to take care of herself.  Despite his warnings about crocodiles and sharks, she persisted in swimming in deep water off the beach; nor could he persuade her, when she was in the boat, to let one of the sailors throw the dynamite when shooting fish.  She argued that she was at least a little bit more intelligent than they, and that, therefore, there was less liability of an accident if she did the shooting.  She was to him the most masculine and at the same time the most feminine woman he had ever met.

"Then let me save your feelings by telling you that it does not annoy me at all--except for the row you are making about it.  I never allow what can't be changed to annoy me.  There is no use in fighting the inevitable.  Here is the situation.  You are here.  I am here.  I can't go elsewhere, by your own account.  You certainly can't go elsewhere and leave me here alone with a whole plantation and two hundred woolly cannibals on my hands.  Therefore you stay, and I stay.  It is very simple.  Also, it is adventure.  And furthermore, you needn't worry for yourself.  I am not matrimonially inclined.  I came to the Solomons for a plantation, not a husband."

Sheldon flushed, but remained silent.

"I know what you are thinking," she laughed gaily.  "That if I were a man you'd wring my neck for me.  And I deserve it, too.  I'm so sorry.  I ought not to keep on hurting your feelings."

"I'm afraid I rather invite it," he said, relieved by the signs of the tempest subsiding.

"I have it," she announced.  "Lend me a gang of your boys for to- day.  I'll build a grass house for myself over in the far corner of the compound--on piles, of course.  I can move in to-night.  I'll be comfortable and safe.  The Tahitians can keep an anchor watch just as aboard ship.  And then I'll study cocoanut planting.  In return, I'll run the kitchen end of your household and give you some decent food to eat.  And finally, I won't listen to any of your protests.  I know all that you are going to say and offer-- your giving the bungalow up to me and building a grass house for yourself.  And I won't have it.  You may as well consider everything settled.  On the other hand, if you don't agree, I will go across the river, beyond your jurisdiction, and build a village for myself and my sailors, whom I shall send in the whale-boat to Guvutu for provisions.  And now I want you to teach me billiards."



CHAPTER VII--A HARD-BITTEN GANG



Joan took hold of the household with no uncertain grip, revolutionizing things till Sheldon hardly recognized the place. For the first time the bungalow was clean and orderly.  No longer the house-boys loafed and did as little as they could; while the cook complained that "head belong him walk about too much," from the strenuous course in cookery which she put him through.  Nor did Sheldon escape being roundly lectured for his laziness in eating nothing but tinned provisions.  She called him a muddler and a slouch, and other invidious names, for his slackness and his disregard of healthful food.

At any rate, she did not look the part.  And that was what he could not forgive.  Had she been short-haired, heavy-jawed, large- muscled, hard-bitten, and utterly unlovely in every way, all would have been well.  Instead of which she was hopelessly and deliciously feminine.  Her hair worried him, it was so generously beautiful.  And she was so slenderly and prettily the woman--the girl, rather--that it cut him like a knife to see her, with quick, comprehensive eyes and sharply imperative voice, superintend the launching of the whale-boat through the surf.  In imagination he could see her roping a horse, and it always made him shudder. Then, too, she was so many-sided.  Her knowledge of literature and art surprised him, while deep down was the feeling that a girl who knew such things had no right to know how to rig tackles, heave up anchors, and sail schooners around the South Seas.  Such things in her brain were like so many oaths on her lips.  While for such a girl to insist that she was going on a recruiting cruise around Malaita was positive self-sacrilege.

He always perturbedly harked back to her feminineness.  She could play the piano far better than his sisters at home, and with far finer appreciation--the piano that poor Hughie had so heroically laboured over to keep in condition.  And when she strummed the guitar and sang liquid, velvety Hawaiian hulas, he sat entranced. Then she was all woman, and the magic of sex kidnapped the irritations of the day and made him forget the big revolver, the Baden-Powell, and all the rest.  But what right, the next thought in his brain would whisper, had such a girl to swagger around like a man and exult that adventure was not dead?  Woman that adventured were adventuresses, and the connotation was not nice.  Besides, he was not enamoured of adventure.  Not since he was a boy had it appealed to him--though it would have driven him hard to explain what had brought him from England to the Solomons if it had not been adventure.

Sheldon certainly was not happy.  The unconventional state of affairs was too much for his conservative disposition and training. Berande, inhabited by one lone white man, was no place for Joan Lackland.  Yet he racked his brain for a way out, and even talked it over with her.  In the first place, the steamer from Australia was not due for three weeks.

"One thing is evident:  you don't want me here," she said.  "I'll man the whale-boat to-morrow and go over to Tulagi."