"Let you! I'm sure he would be delighted," cried Anne. "I admit that it was what was in my head when I took you down last night. Captain Jim has always been wishing he could get somebody to write his life-book properly for him."
"Will you go down to the Point with me this evening, Mrs. Blythe? I'll ask him about that life-book myself, but I want you to tell him that you told me the story of lost Margaret and ask him if he will let me use it as a thread of romance with which to weave the stories of the life-book into a harmonious3 whole."
Captain Jim was more excited than ever when Owen Ford told him of his plan. At last his cherished dream was to be realized and his "life-book" given to the world. He was also pleased that the story of lost Margaret should be woven into it.
"It will keep her name from being forgotten," he said wistfully.
"That's why I want it put in."
"We'll collaborate," cried Owen delightedly. "You will give the soul and I the body. Oh, we'll write a famous book between us, Captain Jim. And we'll get right to work."
"And to think my book is to be writ2 by the schoolmaster's grandson!" exclaimed Captain Jim. "Lad, your grandfather was my dearest friend. I thought there was nobody like him. I see now why I had to wait so long. It couldn't be writ till the right man come. You BELONG here—you've got the soul of this old north shore in you—you're the only one who COULD write it."
It was arranged that the tiny room off the living room at the lighthouse should be given over to Owen for a workshop. It was necessary that Captain Jim should be near him as he wrote, for consultation4 upon many matters of sea-faring and gulf5 lore6 of which Owen was quite ignorant.
He began work on the book the very next morning, and flung himself into it heart and soul. As for Captain Jim, he was a happy man that summer. He looked upon the little room where Owen worked as a sacred shrine7. Owen talked everything over with Captain Jim, but he would not let him see the manuscript.
"You must wait until it is published," he said. "Then you'll get it all at once in its best shape."
He delved8 into the treasures of the life-book and used them freely. He dreamed and brooded over lost Margaret until she became a vivid reality to him and lived in his pages. As the book progressed it took possession of him and he worked at it with feverish9 eagerness. He let Anne and Leslie read the manuscript and criticise10 it; and the concluding chapter of the book, which the critics, later on, were pleased to call idyllic11, was modelled upon a suggestion of Leslie's.
Anne fairly hugged herself with delight over the success of her idea.
"I knew when I looked at Owen Ford that he was the very man for it," she told Gilbert. "Both humor and passion were in his face, and that, together with the art of expression, was just what was necessary for the writing of such a book. As Mrs. Rachel would say, he was predestined for the part."
Owen Ford wrote in the mornings. The afternoons were generally spent in some merry outing with the Blythes. Leslie often went, too, for Captain Jim took charge of Dick frequently, in order to set her free. They went boating on the harbor and up the three pretty rivers that flowed into it; they had clambakes on the bar and mussel-bakes on the rocks; they picked strawberries on the sand-dunes; they went out cod-fishing with Captain Jim; they shot plover12 in the shore fields and wild ducks in the cove—at least, the men did. In the evenings they rambled13 in the low-lying, daisied, shore fields under a golden moon, or they sat in the living room at the little house where often the coolness of the sea breeze justified14 a driftwood fire, and talked of the thousand and one things which happy, eager, clever young people can find to talk about.
Ever since the day on which she had made her confession15 to Anne Leslie had been a changed creature. There was no trace of her old coldness and reserve, no shadow of her old bitterness. The girlhood of which she had been cheated seemed to come back to her with the ripeness of womanhood; she expanded like a flower of flame and perfume; no laugh was readier than hers, no wit quicker, in the twilight16 circles of that enchanted17 summer. When she could not be with them all felt that some exquisite18 savor19 was lacking in their intercourse20. Her beauty was illumined by the awakened21 soul within, as some rosy22 lamp might shine through a flawless vase of alabaster23. There were hours when Anne's eyes seemed to ache with the splendor24 of her. As for Owen Ford, the "Margaret" of his book, although she had the soft brown hair and elfin face of the real girl who had vanished so long ago, "pillowed where lost Atlantis sleeps," had the personality of Leslie Moore, as it was revealed to him in those halcyon25 days at Four Winds Harbor.
All in all, it was a never-to-be-forgotten summer—one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going—one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful26 weather, delightful friends and delightful doings, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.
"Too good to last," Anne told herself with a little sigh, on the September day when a certain nip in the wind and a certain shade of intense blue on the gulf water said that autumn was hard by.
That evening Owen Ford told them that he had finished his book and that his vacation must come to an end.
"I have a good deal to do to it yet—revising and pruning27 and so forth," he said, "but in the main it's done. I wrote the last sentence this morning. If I can find a publisher for it it will probably be out next summer or fall."
Owen had not much doubt that he would find a publisher. He knew that he had written a great book—a book that would score a wonderful success—a book that would LIVE. He knew that it would bring him both fame and fortune; but when he had written the last line of it he had bowed his head on the manuscript and so sat for a long time. And his thoughts were not of the good work he had done.
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1
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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writ
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| n.命令状，书面命令 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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7
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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8
delved
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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11
idyllic
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| adj.质朴宜人的，田园风光的 | |
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plover
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| n.珩，珩科鸟，千鸟 | |
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rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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17
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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18
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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savor
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| vt.品尝，欣赏；n.味道，风味；情趣，趣味 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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alabaster
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| adj.雪白的；n.雪花石膏；条纹大理石 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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halcyon
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| n.平静的，愉快的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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27
pruning
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| n.修枝，剪枝，修剪v.修剪（树木等）( prune的现在分词 )；精简某事物，除去某事物多余的部分 | |
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