We found Sami, much comforted, sitting upon Desire’s lap, a thing he could seldom be induced to do.  At our entrance he began to shiver again but soon quieted.  Desire had tried questioning but it was of no use.  He either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say anything about what had frightened him.  Desire was inclined to think that he did not know.  But I was not so sure.  It’s a fairly well established fact that children simply can’t speak of certain terrors.  And the more frightened they are the more powerful is the inhibition.  In any case it was useless to question Sami so we fed him instead and presently he went to sleep.

I suppose we all forgot him.  I know I did.  One doesn’t elope every day.  And it was never Sami’s way to insist upon his presence as ordinary children do.  Li Ho departed to tinker with the “Tillicum” and afterwards returned to give us a late supper.  Desire kept out of my way.  One might almost have thought that she was shy—­if so, a most perplexing development.  For why should she feel shy?  It wasn’t as if we had not put the whole affair on a perfectly business basis.  Perhaps there is some elemental magic in names, so that, to a woman, the very word “marriage” has power to provoke certain nervous reactions?

However that may be, even Desire forgot Sami.  We left the house just as the clearing began to grow brighter with light from the still hidden moon, and we were halfway down to the boat landing before anyone thought of him.  Oddly enough it was I who remembered.  “Sami!” I exclaimed, with a little throb of nameless fear.  “We have forgotten Sami.”

Desire, I thought, looked surprised and somewhat vexed at her oversight.  But displayed no trace of the consternation which had suddenly fallen on me.

“He is all right,” she said.  “He will sleep till morning unless his mother comes for him.”

“Where you leave um?” asked Li Ho briefly.  He had already set down the bag he was carrying.

“In my own bed.”

“Me go get!” said Li Ho.

But I had not waited.  I had started to “go get” myself.  The sense of breathless hurry was on me again.  I did not pause to argue that the child was perfectly safe.  I forgot that I had ever been lame.  Perhaps that sciatic nerve is only mortal mind anyway.  When I came out into the clearing the cottage was turning silver in the first rays of the full moon.  Very peaceful and secure it looked.  And yet I hurried!

I made no noise.  To myself I explained this by a desire not to waken the youngster.  No use frightening him.  I stole, as quietly as one of his own ancestors, to the foot of the stairs.  The door of Desire’s room was open.  I could see a moonlit bar across the dark landing....