Una sauntered on, her heart beating wildly. Was Lady Bell’s heartache produced by the absence of Jack Newcombe? Yes, that must be it!
With a sigh she drew away still further from the rest, and seating herself on the trunk of a tree by the riverside, watched the silver stream as it flowed past and was lost in the setting sun.
Suddenly she saw in the distance a white speck that looked like a bird, flitting up the middle of the stream. The speck grew larger; and she saw that it was a light boat putting toward the island.
Gradually it came nearer and nearer, and she saw that it contained one man only, and that he was clad in white flannel.
It was a light water-boat—a mere speck of white it looked now on the golden stream—and to Una, who had never seen an outrigger before, it seemed an almost impossible feat to sit in it.
But the sculler managed it with the greatest ease, and with every stroke sent it flying forward.
With regular rhythmical action he pulled on, and very soon she could see his great arms bared to the shoulders.
She watched it absently for some minutes, but presently the rower turned his head, and something in the movement struck her and made her heart bound.
Agitated and trembling she rose and stood staring down the stream.
A curve of the island hid the boat suddenly, and she stood watching for it to appear again; but the minutes passed on and it did not come. Then suddenly she heard a peal of laughter and the clatter of voices, and she knew that the boat had pulled into the island.