IT was fast becoming dark, as the swift, midwinter evening closed down. With the night came wind; and upon the wind returned the cold, not so intense as that of the early morning at Escanaba; nor was the wind as strong as then. The sky stayed clear, showing pale stars through the twilight into which the gaunt outline of the Rock withdrew to dimmer and dimmer distances until Ethel at her window could see it no more. And then, soon after it had vanished, suddenly a bright dot glowed through the darkness,—a light upon Resurrection Rock, a light yellow with distance illumining a window, Ethel thought. It went out as suddenly as it appeared; then it glowed again and once more went dark. But this time it was not snuffed out suddenly but sank so slowly that for a few moments Ethel could not be certain whether or not it was gone. One could do that by slowly turning down a lamp, Ethel considered, or by slowly carrying a lamp away from a window and out of the room. She watched steadily for some time longer; but no light appeared again.
Yet what she had seen made her sure that her friend of the morning was there. Who was with him and what was happening; or what might he be learning, she wondered. What, of such momentous interest to her grandfather?
