It
was like talking out loud in church, or in some place where it was not
lawful, perhaps not quite safe, to be overheard.
The eeriness of this lonely island, set among a million willows, swept by a
hurricane, and surrounded by hurrying deep waters, touched us both, I
fancy. Untrodden by man, almost unknown to man, it lay there beneath the
moon, remote from human influence, on the frontier of another world, an
alien world, a world tenanted by willows only and the souls of willows. And
we, in our rashness, had dared to invade it, even to make use of it!
Something more than the power of its mystery stirred in me as I lay on the
sand, feet to fire, and peered up through the leaves at the stars. For the
last time I rose to get firewood.
"When this has burnt up," I said firmly, "I shall turn in," and my
companion watched me lazily as I moved off into the surrounding shadows.
For an unimaginative man I thought he seemed unusually receptive that
night, unusually open to suggestion of things other than sensory. He too
was touched by the beauty and loneliness of the place. I was not altogether
pleased, I remember, to recognize this slight change in him, and instead of
immediately collecting sticks, I made my way to the far point of the island
where the moonlight on plain and river could be seen to better advantage.
The desire to be alone had come suddenly upon me; my former dread returned
in force; there was a vague feeling in me I wished to face and probe to the
bottom.
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