CHAPTER XXIII. THE ISLAND. "_Be not afraid; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not._"--THE TEMPEST. "Well," said Tilda dolefully, "I guess that about settles us!" The boy, his hands thrust into his breeches' pockets, stared over the sea for a while. "I don't see that it matters much," he answered at length, withdrawing his gaze. "You know well enough we could never have worked her back again." "Oh, indeed? And 'ow are we goin' to pick up our vittles? I don't know what _you_ feel like, but I could do with breakfast a'ready." "Perhaps 'Dolph can catch us a rabbit," he suggested hopefully after a pause. "I heard Roger say last night that Holmness swarmed with rabbits." "Rabbits?" said Tilda with scorn. "D'yer know 'ow to skin one if we caught 'im?" "No, I don't," he confessed. "And when he's skinned, there's the cookin'; and we 'aven't so much as a box of matches. . . . That's the worst of boys, they 're so unpractical." "Well, then, we can hunt for gulls' eggs." "That's better; if," she added on an afterthought, "gulls 'appen to lay eggs at this time of year--which I'll bet they don't." "Look here," said the boy severely, "we haven't searched yet. What's the use of giving in before we've _tried?_ Nobody starves on the Island, I tell you; and--and I can't bear your talking in this way. It isn't _like_ you--" "I can't _'elp_ it," owned poor Tilda with a dry sob. "--breaking down," he continued, "just when we've reached, and all the rest is going to happen just as the book says." "That's likely!" "It's certain." He pulled out the tattered, coverless volume. "Why, I do believe"--he said it with a kind of grave wonder--"you're hankering after that silly cottage!" "Of course I am," she confessed defiantly, for he exasperated her. "We'd promised to ride over an' see Miss Sally this afternoon, an' I wanted to spend the 'ole mornin' learnin' 'ow to be a lady. . . . I don't get _too_ much time for these little things." The protest was weak enough, and weakly uttered. Until the moment of embarking on this expedition Tilda had been throughout their wanderings always and consciously the leader--her will the stronger, her's to initiate and to guide. But now he stuck his hands deeper into his pockets. "That's all very well," he replied; "but you can't get to Miss Sally's to-day. So who's unpractical now? Let's find the cave first, and have breakfast; and then, if you're tired of exploring, you can sit on cushions all day, and read your book and learn how to be a princess-- which is ever so much higher than an ordinary lady." "Cave? _Wot_ cave? _Wot_ breakfast? _Wot_ cushions? Oh, I do believe, Arthur Miles, you've gone stark starin' mad!" "Why," he reasoned with her, "on a seashore like this there are bound to be caves; the only trouble will be to find the right one. And as for breakfast, it was you that talked about it just now."