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Updated: August 6, 2024
Here again the marvelous intercession of God in favor of the fate of Israel is shown, for the scant supply of water at Elim, which had hardly sufficed for seventy palm trees, satisfied sixty myriads of the wandering people that stayed there for several days.
"Miss Rosemary's rubies and gold " he said finally. "But I believe you're honest, I believe you're a good man." James Haxall explained this to Rosemary. Elim, standing aside, could see that the girl neither assented nor raised objection. She seemed utterly listless; a fleet emotion at the knowledge of her father's death had, in that public place, been immediately repressed.
A small group at a main entrance faced them as they approached; a coatless man with haggard features, his clothes saturated with water, advanced quickly. "Miss Rosemary!" he ejaculated in palpable dismay. He drew Elim Meikeljohn aside. "Take her away," he directed; "her father ... killed, trying to save his papers." "Where?" Elim demanded. "Their house is empty. She can't stay in Richmond alone."
Elim had lived with no horizon wider than the impoverished daily necessity; he had accepted this with mingled fatality and fortitude; any rebellion had been immediately suppressed as a wicked reflection upon Deity.
The withdrawn banks bore clustered trees, undulating green reached inland, the shaded facades of houses sat back on lawns that dipped to the stream. Rosemary Roselle's face was pale with fatigue; her eyes appeared preternaturally large; and this, for Elim, made her charm infinitely more appealing. She smoothed her dress, touched her hair with light fingers. The intimacy of it all thrilled him.
It was neither a celebration nor a protest, but instinctive, like the indiscriminate gulping of a man who has been swimming under the water. "Why," Kaperton gasped, "you've got a head like a cannon ball." He rose and wandered unsteadily about, but Elim sat motionless, silent, drinking.
Indy returned with a small hat of honey-colored straw and a soft white- silk mantilla. The former she drew upon the girl's head and wrapped the shawl about the slim shoulders. "Now," she pronounced decisively, "we're going to find your papa." She led Rosemary Roselle toward the outer door. Elim found his cap in the hall and followed them down the bricked steps to the street.
He saw that Rosemary turned her head with an impatient curiosity. "She is very unfortunate," he continued uncertainly; "she lost a present of money and couldn't work till it was given back." "But how," demanded Rosemary Roselle, "did you know that?" Curiosity had betrayed her. Elim Meikeljohn concealed a grin with difficulty.
We quote Whitman a dozen times in the hour, and it is all "afoot and light-hearted" with us, and "the open road." But there were some farewells to make to people as well as to trees. There were friends at Elim to bid adieu, and also there were maps to be consulted, and knapsacks to be packed exhilarating preparations.
It will serve us best to see Elim Meikeljohn first as he walked across Winthrop Common. It was very early in April and should have been cool, but it was warm already there were some vermilion buds on the maples and Elim's worn shad-belly coat was uncomfortably heavy.
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