For a long while they rested there in silence, hand clasped in hand. The uproar across the river had ceased. They heard only the splash of the small waterfall and, in its pauses, the call of bird to bird, mating amid the hazels and the oaks.
They drew apart suddenly, warned by the sound of dipping oars, the creak of thole-pins; and in a few seconds the rower hove into view, pulling up-stream as if for dear life. It was Cai Tamblyn. Catching sight of them, with a sharp exclamation he ceased rowing, held water, and bringing the boat's nose round, headed in for shore.
"You're wanted, quick!" he called to the Doctor. "They sent me off in search of you."
"Hey? What? Has there been an accident?"
Cai brought his boat alongside, glanced at Miss Marty, and lowered his voice.
"'Tis Lady Felix-Williams. These here conquerin' 'eroes of the Major's have swarmed down through the woods an' ran foul of the liquor. The Band in partikler's as drunk as Chloe, an' what with horning and banging under her ladyship's window, they've a-scared her before her time. She's crying out at this moment, and old Sir Felix around in his dressing-gown like Satan let loose. Talk about Millenniums!"
"Good Lord!" Dr. Hansombody caught up his haversack. "The Millennium? I'd clean forgot about it!"
Miss Marty gazed at him with innocent inquiring eyes.
"But—but isn't this the Millennium?" she asked.