"Perhaps they are going down to the beach," said Hawkins, who had no more malice in his composition than a swallow.
"No, no! they are turning toward the house," said the widow, considerably excited. "What can they want there?"
"Oh, very likely they have gone in to rest. You know North lives there when he comes on the island to fish or shoot."
"What! Mr. North, he live there and never tell me! I thought he was a perfect stranger on the island."
"As to that," answered Hawkins, a little startled by her earnestness, "he only comes down for a day now and then. It's nothing permanent, I assure you."
"There! there! they have gone in!" exclaimed the lady. "I wonder where Elsie is; I must tell Elsie."
"Why, what nonsense!" answered Hawkins, with some spirit; "can't Mrs. Mellen step into a house to rest herself a moment without troubling her friends so terribly?"
"Just be quiet, Hawkins, you don't know what you are talking about," answered the lady, keeping her gaze fastened on the tavern. "Turn an eye on the house while I look at the time. It must be five minutes since they went in. Dear, dear, what a world we live in!"
Mrs. Harrington kept the little enamelled watch, sparkling with diamonds, in her ungloved hand full ten minutes, only glancing from it to the door of the tavern in her vigilance. At the end of that time Mr. North and his companion came out of the house and disappeared in the undergrowth which lay between that and the precipice.
Mrs. Harrington watched some time for them to appear again, but her curiosity was baffled, and her attention soon directed to other objects. At last she was aroused by Elsie coming suddenly upon the ledge, flushed, panting for breath and glowing with anger. She turned upon Hawkins like a spiteful mockingbird.