"Come on, then,"—an Englishman's usual formula; "I'll take you back to Ross. But we must look sharp," speaking rather brusquely. What if this tearful, frightened young lady were to go into hysterics, or to faint in his arms? that would be a nice business!
Without a single word, but with obedient alacrity, she followed him to the edge of the sea,—and something told her that she was walking in the wake of the notorious Mr. Lisle.
"I'd better carry you through the surf," he said, turning at the water's edge; and coolly putting his arm round her, he was just about to lift her on the spot, but, with flaming cheeks, she thrust him aside, saying, "Thanks, no; I'll manage it myself."
"Oh, all right," he returned indifferently, "but I think you are foolish! What's the good of two people getting wet, when one will do?" now wading out to the boat through surf, which took the young lady up to her knees. He got in first, helped her in afterwards, and, making a sign to the impatient boatmen to raise the sail, he said to his dripping companion, "There is going to be a bit of a blow" (a mild way of putting it), "but we shall have it with us, we shall be home in no time," he added, in a tone of assumed cheerfulness.
In a few seconds they were gliding along over the water, before a nice stiff breeze, and Helen found time to collect her senses, and to relate her adventures—at first in rather a broken, husky voice, but latterly with more composure.
And lest the reader should all this time be angrily blaming Colonel Denis and Mrs. Home, I here beg to state that each believed Helen to be in the other's boat—a thought for which they were indebted to Miss Caggett.
The rising wind and threatening sky made prudent Mrs. Home collect her party, and start; being under the impression that Helen would return with her father. When the people belonging to number two boat were mustered, and inquiries were made for Miss Denis, Miss Caggett assured them that she had long since departed with Mrs. Home, and had been quite animated in declaring that "there was no mistake about the matter, as she and Miss Denis had been walking in the woods together." She also displayed quite a feverish eagerness to be off!—for reasons which we can easily understand. (Miss Lizzie had picked up her letters and pocketed them, and sauntered down to the beach, and there had joined the company, and come to the conclusion that a night's solitary reflection among the tall Gurgeon and Pedouk trees would do her rival a world of good! "How easy," she said to herself, "to say afterwards, that I must have made a mistake—every one is liable to make mistakes!") Thus reassured, the picnic party took their places in the second boat, and no search or calling acquainted Helen of their departure; and consequently, she was left behind, thanks to Miss Lizzie Caggett.
The small white gig which had picked off the young lady, now flew before the wind, and Helen's new acquaintance sat with the tiller-ropes in his hands, and his gaze bent apprehensively on the south.
"I suppose I may as well introduce myself," he said presently. "My name is Lisle. Perhaps you have heard of me?" he added expressively—at least to his listener, his words seemed to have an ironical, significant tone!
Helen muttered a faint affirmative.