"Oh, he fishes, and shoots, and likes the Andamans awfully.—As to who he is—he is simply, as you see, a gentleman at large, and his name is Gilbert Lisle."
Thus Dr. Parks, in spite of his superior opportunities, was foiled; and returned to his own abode no wiser than any of his neighbours.
CHAPTER III.
FIRST IMPRESSIONS.
"And I am something curious, being strange."
Cymbeline.
The morning after her arrival Helen Denis found herself alone, as her father was occupied with drills and orderly-room till twelve o'clock, when they breakfasted.
She went out into the verandah, and looked about her, in order to become better acquainted with the situation of her new home. The bungalow stood a little way back from the gravel road, that encircled the whole island, and was shaded by a luxuriant crimson creeper; a hedge of yellow flowers bordered the path leading up to the door, and between the house and the sea was a clump of thick cocoa-nut palms, that stood out in bold relief against the deep cobalt background of the sky. Jays, parrots, and unfamiliar tropical birds were flitting about, and from the sea a faint breeze was wafted, bearing strange fragrant odours from the distant mainland; a light haze lay over the water, betokening a warm meridian. A few white clouds slumbered in the hot heavens overhead; and save for the hum of insects and birds, and a distant sound of oars swinging to and fro in the rowlocks, the place was as silent as a Sunday morning in the country, when every one has gone to church.—At first Helen stood, and then she sat down on the steps to contemplate this scene, which formed the prelude to a new epoch in her life—she gazed and gazed, and seemed afraid to move her eyes, lest the vision should escape her. She sat thus without moving for fully half an hour.
"Well, what do you think of it all, young woman?" from a voice behind her, caused her to spring up, and she found her father standing there in his white uniform, with his sword under his arm.
"Oh, papa! I never, never saw anything like it; I never dreamt or fancied there could be such a beautiful spot—it's like fairyland! like an enchanted country, like"—her similes running short—"like Robinson Crusoe's island."