"You are the captain," he answered, laughing buoyantly in his happiness; "give your crew the order."
"Get under way, then," she replied, meeting his mood.
The little love scene had put strength into his arms. It seemed as if the power of his passion, failing other vent, had worked itself into the oar-blades, for the boat skimmed over the water like a bird, and in a few moments he unshipped his oars at the boat-landing. Swinging the skiff about so that the stern would be nearest the landing-place for her convenience, he stepped ashore, fastened the painter, and gave her his hand. Her own small palm met his great one frankly, and the two hands clung together in a clasp,—on his part of joy unspeakable, on hers of happy foreshadowings of the future.
Neither said anything as he helped her gravely up the steps. To kiss her then, even had they been alone, would have seemed to him sacrilege; there was something so holy, so innocent, so pure about the young girl, he thought, that he would like to throw himself upon his knees before her and kiss the steps her feet had trodden, so rapturous was his mood. Yet again, when he broke the silence, his words were commonplace. The noblest word would be ordinary when matched against his feelings then!
"What a sleepy, dull, dead little town this seems!" he remarked, looking curiously about him; "if it were a little handsomer, and overgrown with flowers and vines, it might be the town of the Sleeping Beauty; but the Beauty——"
"Is wide awake," she interrupted, a charming color irradiating her cheek, which made him sorry he had been so timid. "And awake without the prince's kiss, too!" she added, smiling archly, in that she was a very woman.
Perhaps, he thought, ruefully, she might not have resented that kiss, after all.
Well, the next time would see!
CHAPTER XIII