“Yes, indeed,” said Kate. “They often come up here suddenly. Look how one point after another is sponged out by the gray mist. See there, how the rain is driving down over there already.”
“And it will be here in a minute,” said Mr. Winthrop, rising hastily. “Come, you must all get into the centre of the boat, well under the awning, if you won’t go down stairs.”
Mrs. Sandford thought it best to retreat to the cabin below, being afraid of thunder, but all the others protested that it was much too interesting to watch the arrival of the storm. At a suggestion from Mr. Winthrop, however, he and Hugh made a dash down to the cabin for wraps and umbrella, returning in a second or two with an armful of waterproofs, in which the ladies were all carefully wrapped before the first heavy rain-drops came pattering down on deck. And then, for a minute, how they did come down, lashing the deck till it was flooded;—even where they sat the drops flew, into their faces, and, but for the waterproofs, would have drenched their garments. Kate, who loved a storm, was looking brilliantly handsome, and so—May was sure—thought Mr. Winthrop, who kept his position near her, so as to shelter a little from the onslaught of the rain. And how—she inwardly wondered—would Hugh Macnab like the sudden invasion from this stranger and foreigner, who seemed to make himself so very much at home? She fancied that his somewhat sensitive face looked clouded, but perhaps it was only the reflection of the clouds without, for, presently when the rain-drops gradually ceased, and the sun shone out again, brighter, as it seemed, than ever, his face brightened, too, and he watched eagerly for the first appearance of what might properly be called the real Thousand Island group.
“There they are!” Kate exclaimed, at length, as some soft, cloud-like forms loomed up against the distant horizon, still somewhat misty with the receding rain. “See how they cluster there together! And do you see those tiny white specks? Those are the lighthouses that mark the channel. And there, if you can catch a glimpse of some white houses beyond those islands—, those are part of the poetically named town of Gananoque, ‘Rocks in Deep Water,’ as the Indian name signifies. And it is a good enough description, if only they would have added ‘Rocks in Shallow Water’ as well; for there is certainly no lack of rocks in either the depths or the shallows!”
And now the little steamer began to wind in and out among the clustered islets, some of them little more than rough granite crags, bristling with wind-tossed pines, others masses of tangled foliage, and others still, partially cleared, with fanciful little cottages embowered in trees and clustering vines. At some of these cottages the inhabitants, like the campers, amused themselves by blowing a horn as a salute, to which the steamer amiably responded, after which there would be another flutter of handkerchiefs from the loungers on the verandas or by the shore.
“Well,” said Hugh, “though we know it really means nothing, it does seem pleasant to be waved at, as if one were coming home!”
“And yet the same people would only stare critically at you if they met you in the street.”
“It’s the air of these charming islands,” laughed Kate. “It makes every one so genial and overflowing with the milk of human kindness that they can’t help expressing it all round!”
“Or so idle that even this mild excitement is entertaining,” said Mr. Winthrop.
“Wait till you have tried it a little while!” said Kate. “Perhaps even you may grow less cynical there. But where are you going now?”