"I should think so," assented Rick cheerfully. "Why, we have been
trying to get to Eilean-a-fa-ash these three weeks--haven't we, Lady
Maud?--without catching a fine day and a suitable tide on the hop
together. The sea ford might have done last spring, but it was too
rough for the ladies to return by boat, or else too wet. But the first
fine day. That is it, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mr. Halmar!" cried Cynthia Strong from the window seat where
Captain Weeks was blissfully useful over a skein of wool. "And please
order the fine day soon, for I have to go by the next _Clansman_."
"Then I shall go too," murmured the captain.
"I suppose the birds will be getting rather wild by that time,"
remarked the young lady tartly. Theoretically, she felt bound to
despise her admirer and his occupations; practically, his murmurs made
her heart beat.
"Wild! Why, they lie like stones on this coast. Something to do with
the Gulf Stream, I'm told, though I know nothing myself about these
scientific things. But you can kick 'em up and shoot 'em like chickens
on the last day of the season."
"And when is that?"
Captain Weeks laughed,--the true man's laugh of surprised tolerance.
"I thought you knew everything, Miss Strong; but I don't suppose they
think it worth while to teach girls. It's the 10th of December for
grouse, but partridges go on till the beginning of February, and
there's no real close time for--" His voice fell to the confidential
tone. Eustace Gordon had meanwhile joined the trio at the door.
"Yes! let it be soon, please; for I may be going also. I've just
heard, Maud, from Louisa, and the last idea is that I am to take the
yacht, which she is sending here, round to Cowes, and that we are to
start at once for less uncertain climes. The Mediterranean, most
likely."
"That is very--unexpected. But all my friends are flying south, like
the swallows."
"And I have to go furthest of all," said Rick ruefully. "I'm booked
for the Pacific Station, as sure as fate."
"Then you must send me home a real Numbo Jumbo if you come across
one," she replied, smiling up into his eager boyish face with a
confidence absolutely free from all alloy.
"Won't I! and some of those jolly shells too; all the pretty things I
can pick up."
"Thank you, Rick; I like pretty things."
He flushed with pleasure at her tone and words.
"Well, good-bye," she said, turning to Will Lockhart. "I hope the
elements won't be too strong for you."
"Or for you."
Confidence here also, but of a different sort,--the sort which can
give a reason for the faith that is in it. It seemed, however, as if
Lady Maud's wish was not to be fulfilled; for as Rick Halmar and his
companion set off across the moor, the southwest wind, even at that
distance from the shore, sent a shower of spindrift in their faces.
"No leaving Carbost Bay for you tonight," shouted Rick against the
wind. "You had better stay at our place. You used to know Aunt Will
long ago, didn't you?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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