I declare now with shame, as it abased me then, that for hours, while
the darkness fell and the stars began their march over the tree-tops,
the ghostly intruder kept watch with me as a bodily presence mocking
us both, benumbing my efforts to sorrow. . . . Nor did it fade until
calm came to me, recalled by the murmur of unseen waters.
Listening to them I let my thoughts travel up to the ridges and forth
into that unconfined world of which Nat's spirit had been made free.
. . . I went to the hut for a pail, groped my way to the stream, and
fetched water to prepare his body for burial. When I returned the
hateful presence had vanished. My eyes went up to a star--love's
planet--poised over the dark boughs. Thither and beyond it Nat had
travelled. Through those windows he would henceforth look back and
down on me; never again through the eyes I had loved as a friend and
lived to close. I could weep now, and I wept; not passionately, not
selfishly, but in grief that seemed to rise about me like a tide and
bear me and all fate of man together upon its deep, strong
flood. .
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