Why? Because he knew that when these two young people left, the island would become intolerable. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. “I wish you didn’t. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. She’s got a great imagination. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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