194 TO THE LIGHTHOUSEand all the quick expressive gestures which had beenat his command making people pity him and praisehim all these years should subdue themselves. Hewould make her smile at him. He would find somesimple easy thing to say to her. But what? For,wrapped up in his work as he was, he forgot the sortof thing one said. There was a puppy. They hada puppy. Who was looking after the puppy to-day?he asked. Yes, thought James pitilessly, seeing hissister’s head against the sail, now she will give way.I shall be left to fight the tyrant alone. The com-pact would be left to him to carry out. Cam wouldnever resist tyranny to the death, he thought grimly,watching her face, sad, sulky, yielding. And assometimes happens when a cloud falls on a greenhillside and gravity descends and there among all thesurrounding hills is gloom and sorrow, and it seemsas if the hills themselves must ponder the fate of theclouded, the darkened, either in pity, or maliciouslyrejoicing in her dismay: so Cam now felt herself over-cast, as she sat there among calm, resolute peopleand wondered how to answer her father about thepuppy; how to resist his entreaty—forgive me, carefor me; while James the lawgiver, with the tabletsof eternal wisdom laid open on his knee (his handon the tiller had become symbolical to her), said,Resist him. Fight him. He said so rightly; justly.For they must fight tyranny to the death, shethought. Of all human qualities she reverencedjustice most. Her brother was most god-like, herfather most suppliant. And to which did sheyield, she thought, sitting between them, gazingat the shore whose points were all unknown to her,
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