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Updated: May 2, 2025
Ludlow, what in the world shall we do?" "Put her to bed." "Of course, Ludlow. But will anybody hurt you to-morrow?" "There are two good guns on the rack over the chimney. I don't think anybody will hurt me or her either, to-morrow." "Rosanne, my dear," said Cecilia, trying to lift the relaxed soft body and to open the stairway door behind her. "Come up with me right off.
I think you better be where people cannot look in at us." Rosanne yielded and stumbled to her feet, clinging to her friend. When they disappeared the young man heard her through the stairway enclosure sobbing with convulsive gasps: "I hate Elizabeth Aiken! I wish they would kill Elizabeth Aiken! I hate her I hate her!"
I couldn't stay there all night, so I got down and ran to your house." "Of course, you poor child! But, Rosanne, where's your husband?" The trembling creature stiffened herself and looked at Cecilia out of the corners of her long eyes. "He's with Elizabeth Aiken." The only wife of one husband did not know how to take hold of this subject. "But your father was there," she suggested.
I liked Jim for the same reason. Do you mind how we four slipped one at a time up the back stairs in my father's house that night, while the young folks were dancing be-low?" "I mind we picked Elizabeth because Rosanne would be sure to blab, even if she had to suffer herself for it. How scared the poor elder was!" "We did him a good turn when we got him to marry us.
He was considering that drunken fishermen might presently begin to rove, and he would be wiser to go in and shut the house and put out his candle, when by stealthy approaches around the lighthouse two persons stood before him. "Is Ludlow here?" inquired a voice which he knew. "I'm here, Jim! Are all the Mormons coming back?" "Is Rosanne in your house?" "Rosanne is here; up-stairs with Cecilia.
"What inducement there was for him ever to marry Rosanne I couldn't see. And I know Elizabeth Aiken loved him when we were girls together." "And didn't Rosanne?" "Oh Rosanne! A roly-poly spoiled young one, that never will be a woman! Elizabeth is noble." "You're fond of Elizabeth because she was witness to our secret marriage when King Strang wouldn't let me have you.
"Why, Rosanne!" exclaimed the keeper's wife. She continued to say "Why, Rosanne! Why, Rosanne Baker!" after she had herself run into the house and lighted a candle. She set the candle on the chimney. It showed her rock-built domicile, plain but dignified, like the hollow of a cavern, with blue china on the cupboard shelves and a spinning-wheel standing by the north wall.
Rosanne did not cry, "I cannot hate you!" but she threw herself into the arms of the larger, more patient woman whom she saw no longer as a rival, and who would cherish her children. Elizabeth kissed her husband's wife as a little sister. The lights on Beaver, sinking to duller redness, shone behind Elizabeth like the fires of the stake as she and Cecilia walked after the others to the boat.
The upper part of her person, her almond eyes, round curves and features were full of Oriental suggestions. Some sweet inmate of a harem might so have materialized, bruising her softness against the hard stair. "Why, Rosanne Baker!" her hostess reiterated. Cecilia did not wear bloomers. She stood erect in petticoats. "I thought you went on one of the boats!" "I didn't," sobbed Rosanne.
But James Baker had the desperate and hunted look of a fugitive from justice. He was fair, of the strong-featured, blue-eyed type that has pale chestnut-colored hair clinging close to a well-domed head. "Yes, Rosanne is here," Ludlow repeated. "Now will you tell me how you got here?" "I rowed back in a boat." "Who let you have a boat?" "There were sailors on the steamer.
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