CHAPTER VII
SUNDAY ON ROCKHAVEN
For a few days Winn Hardy was so occupied with the cares of his newposition that he thought of little else. It was a pleasing freedom, fornever before had he known what it was to be his own master; but now thehiring of men and directing operations gave him a sense of power andresponsibility that was exhilarating.
Jess Hutton aided him in many ways and, in fact, seemed anxious toassist in this new enterprise that was likely to be of material benefitto Rockhaven. Winn wisely let the stock matter rest, feeling that apractical demonstration of the Rockhaven Granite Company's enterpriseand intentions would in due time establish confidence.
He wondered many times who the girl was that had hid herself in thatweird cluster of rocks to play the violin, and marvelled that any maid,born and reared amid the half-starved residents of Rockhaven, shouldeven have that laudable ambition; but he asked no questions. In a way,the romance of it also kept him from inquiries. "I will bide my time,"he thought, "and some day I will go over and surprise this maid of thegorge."
He had noticed a rather immaturely formed girl with dark, lustrous eyesonce or twice in the dooryard of a little white house in the same lanewhere he had found lodgment, and had met her once on the village streetand half surmised she might be this mysterious violinist. He gave littlethought to it, however, for his new position and the open path tosuccess and possible riches that seemed before him was enough to putcave-seeking maids, however charming, out of his mind. Then, too, he hadnot quite recovered from Ethel Sherman.
When Sunday came, a new, and in a way pleasurable, experience came withit. His landlady, Mrs. Moore, a widow whose two sons were away on a longfishing voyage, and who seemed so afraid of her solitary boarder as tono more than ask if he wanted this or that during his lonely meals, nowappeared to gain courage with the advent of the Lord's day.
"I'd be pleased, sir," she said humbly, "if ye'd attend sarvice with meat the meetin'-house this morning."
And though Winn had planned to turn his back on the coop-like housesthat composed the town, and take a long stroll over the island, therewas such an appealing hope in this good woman's invitation that he couldnot resist it, and at once consented to attend "sarvice" with her. Andhe was not sorry he did, for when the little bell began calling thepiously inclined together, and he issued forth with Mrs. Moore, who wasdressed in a shiny black silk and a "bunnit" the like of which hisgrandmother used to wear, and looking both proud and pleased, he felt ita pleasant duty. On the way to the small brown church which stood justbeyond the steamer landing and at the foot of a sloping hill dottedthick with tombstones, he felt that he was the observed of allobservers, and when seated in Mrs. Moore's pew, cushioned with fadedgreen rep, whichever way he looked some one was peeping curiously athim. In a way it made him feel unpleasant, and he wondered if hisnecktie was awry; then as he looked around at the worn and out-of-dategarb of the few men and almost grotesque raiment of the women and girls,what Jess had said of the people recurred to him in a forcible way. Theusual service that followed, similar in kind to any country church, wasinteresting to Winn mainly because it recalled his boyhood days. Whenthe minister, a thin, gray-haired man, began his sermon, Winn grewcurious. He was accustomed to pulpit oratory of a high class, andwondered now what manner of discourse was like to emanate from thishumble desk. The text was the old and time-worn "The Lord will provide,"that has instilled courage and hope into millions of despondent hearts,and now used once more to encourage this little band of simpleworshippers. The preacher made no new deductions, in fact, seemed to, asusual, lay stress upon the need of faith that the Lord would provide,come what might. To this end he quoted freely from Scripture, and Winnwas beginning to lose interest and look around the bare and smoky wallsand out of one window that commanded a view of the rippled harbor, whensuddenly his attention was arrested by a direct reference to himself, orrather, his errand to Rockhaven. "We have," asserted the minister, inslow and solemn voice, "a certain and sure proof that the Lord watchesover and cares for us, and that we on this lonely island, striving tolive righteously, are not forgotten by Him. Our acres fit to till arefew and lack fertility; our winters dreary and full of the menace ofstorm and shipwreck to those who must pursue their calling abroad; andyet it seems that He who holds the waters in the hollow of His hand,realizing our needs, has turned the minds of moneyed men toward ourbarren home, and through them blessed us with a new source oflivelihood. Through them heretofore worthless ledges of granite are tobe reared into dwellings, or perhaps churches in the great city. It isto me a certain and signal proof that the good Lord watches over ushere, as well as over others who dwell in more favored spots, and thatwe have a new and greater cause for thankfulness. Many times we haverepined at our hard lot, at our scanty stores of sustenance and thebitterness of poverty; many times, too, some of us have felt the burdenof our lives hard to bear, and almost doubted the good Lord'swatchfulness and care over all who believe in His word. It is this lackof faith, and this lesson of His goodness, even unto us, that I wish toimpress upon your minds to-day, for, although we are but poor andhumble, illy fed and thinly clad, yet we are not forgotten by Him, theGreat Ruler of the Universe."
This peculiar and unusual reference to a mere matter of business andWinn's mission to Rockhaven did not end his discourse, but it kept thatyoung man's attention away from all else until the minister closed andbowed his head in prayer, and, when the inevitable and long-handledcollection box was passed, Winn felt he must, perforce, contributeliberally, which he did.
When the congregation was dismissed and he and Mrs. Moore reached theporch, there was Jess with two ladies, one elderly, and the girl Winnhad noticed in Rock Lane, seemingly awaiting him. An introduction toMrs. and Miss Hutton followed, and then all five walked homewardtogether.
It is said that trifles determine our course in life, that, like chipsfloating down the stream, we are moved hither and yon by imperceptibleforces. If it is so with one, it is with all, and was so with the peopleof Rockhaven, and their estimate and subsequent opinion of Winn Hardy.He attended that poor little church that day out of kindly regard forMrs. Moore's wishes, he listened patiently to services and the sermon,only a few sentences of which interested him, and, of course, conductedhimself as any well-behaved and well-bred young man would. And yet thattrivial act was the starting-point in the good will and confidence ofthose people, the worth of which he realized not at all then and neverfully until long afterward.
Neither was he entitled to special credit for his self-sacrifice, exceptit be that his desire to please that worthy matron, Mrs. Moore, overcamehis selfishness. But whether or not, it led to immediate, though minorreward, for late that afternoon, and upon his return from a shortstroll over Norse Hill, he found her on the porch of the white cottagenext to her home, chatting with the two ladies he met at church, and hewas invited to join them. How cordially the two elderly ladiesendeavored to interest him and what a soft witchery the dark eyes of theyounger one held for him need not be enlarged upon. It mattered not thatMrs. Moore and Mrs. Hutton were neither cultured nor fashionable; theywere at least sincere in their enjoyment of his society and meant whatthey uttered, which is more than can be said of many women of position.He learned that the girl's name was Mona, that she had never been awayfrom the island, and, as might be expected, was somewhat bashful and alittle afraid of him. He had a mind to ask her if she played the violin,but a romantic desire to surprise her, or whoever the mysteriousviolinist was, restrained him.
The stars were out, a perfect quietude had fallen upon the littlevillage, and only the ceaseless murmur of the near-by ocean whispered inthe still air, when Mrs. Moore arose to go, and, much against his will,Winn felt compelled to follow.
In his room he smoked for an hour in solitude, buoyant with hope for hisown future, amply satisfied with the business and social progress he hadso far made, and mentally contrasting the life he had left behind himwith the new one he had entered upon; and into these meditation
s, itmust be stated, came the faces of Ethel Sherman and Mona Hutton.
And so ended Winn's first Sunday on Rockhaven.
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