Mokes thought “they were rascals of some kind, you know--thieves,
perhaps.”
“Huguenots,” from John.
“Recreant priests,” from myself.
“The architect of the fort, imprisoned that the secrets of its
construction might die with him,” suggested Miss Sharp.
“A prince of the blood royal, inconvenient to have around, and therefore
sent over here to be out of the way,” said Iris.
“For my part, I feel convinced that the bones were the mortal remains of
‘Casper Hauser,’ the ‘Man with the Iron Mask,’ and ‘Have we a Bourbon
among us,’” said Sara. Mokes looked at her. He never was quite sure
whether she was simply strong-minded or a little out of her head. He did
not know now, but decided to move a little farther away from her
vicinity.
The Professor had left us some time before, and as we came out through
the sally-port we saw him down in the moat in company with the
fiddler-crabs, an ancient horse, and two small darkies.
“I have discovered the line of the counterscarp!” he cried, excitedly.
“This is undoubtedly the talus of the covered way. If we walk slowly all
around we may find other interesting evidences.”
But there was mud in the moat, not to speak of the fiddlers, whose
peculiarity is that you never can tell which way they are going--I don’t
believe they know themselves; and so our party declined the interesting
evidences with thanks, and passing the demi-lune again, went down to the
sea-wall. Miss Sharp looked back hesitatingly; but Aunt Diana had her
eye upon her, and she gave it up.
In the afternoon all the party excepting myself went over to the North
Beach in a sail-boat. I went down to the Basin to see them off.
“_Osceola_” was painted on the stern of the boat. “Of course!” said
Sara. She longed to look out over the broad ocean once more, otherwise
she would hardly have consented to go without me. The boat glided out on
the blue inlet, and Miss Sharp grasped the professor’s arm as the
mainsail swung round and the graceful little craft tilted far over in
the fresh breeze.
[Illustration: AUNT VINY.]
[Illustration: VICTORIA LINKUM.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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