“But you were out so long yesterday,” said the old man, following them.
“Open air fatigue is a good fatigue,” said Paul, as he lifted Cicely into one of the canoes.
The judge had stopped at the edge of the beach; he now went slowly back into the wood and joined Hollis.
“Your turn, Miss Bruce,” said Paul. And Eve and Jack were placed in a second canoe. One of the Indians was to paddle it, but he was not quite ready. Paul and Cicely did not wait; they started.
“I’s a-goin’ wis old Eve!—old Eve!—old Eve!”
chanted Jack, at the top of his voice, to the tune of “Charley is my darling,” which Hollis had taught him.
“Seems mean that she should have to go with a Chip, when there are white men round,” said Hollis.
The judge made no reply.
But Eve at that moment called, “Mr. Hollis, are you busy? If not, couldn’t you come with me instead of this man?”
Hollis advanced to the edge of the woods and made a bow. “I am exceedingly pleased to accept. My best respects.” He then took off his coat, and, clucking to the Indian as a sign of dismissal, he got into the canoe with the activity of a boy, and pushed off.