CHAPTER V.
uick! get up, Ellenor, you must have overslept yourself!" cried Jean Cartier one morning in August, as he woke his daughter with a loud knocking on the partition between the attic bedrooms of the cottage.
"It's all right, father," the girl called in reply, "I've been up there's a long time, but I am putting the roses round my hat. The breakfast will be ready as soon as you're down."
Jean dressed in particularly old clothes, and Mrs. Cartier chose out the shabbiest skirt she possessed, for they were preparing for a day of hard work on the beach. But, to their surprise, when they came down to breakfast, Ellenor wore a pretty gown of dark red stuff. She explained, carelessly, that indeed she would not make herself a fright before all the countryside; and if the gown was spoilt, well, it couldn't be helped. Her parents said nothing, for Ellenor's temper was more uncertain than ever, and they dreaded an outbreak; but Mrs. Cartier had her suspicions.
After breakfast the three started for Rocquaine Bay, where a lively scene was being played, for it was the time of vraicing or sea-weed harvest. Lines of carts were ranged above high-water mark, and the patient horses were decked with flowers. The beach and sands swarmed with people all smiling and gay, and for the most part wearing nosegays. Rich and poor from two parishes chatted, laughed and worked hard with sickles at cutting the vraic scié from the low rocks. Very soon, the beach was dotted with heaps of sea-weed, each marked by a pebble, bearing the owner's name in chalk. The more adventurous waded across the cols or causeways to rocks at some distance from the shore and found rich stores of golden weed. Amongst these adventurous spirits was Ellenor. She had persuaded one of the farmers to take her on his horse to a high group of rocks, hidden from the beach by Rocquaine Tower, and here she worked undisturbed, and in full possession of a wonderful growth of vraic.
She took off her hat, and her hair curled about her forehead in damp little rings, for the sun was scorching. A dusky red glowed in her tan cheeks; her eyes, shining with excitement and the joy of work, followed the skilled movements of the sickle she swung to and fro, and she was entirely absorbed in gathering in the precious vraic. But, all at once, she paused. She heard, distinctly, the splash of horse's feet. Someone was coming to interrupt her and share her harvest. She would not have it! She had first thought of these rocks! She would fight for her rights!
The splashing came nearer. She did not turn round. A scrambling sound followed; then she heard heavy steps mount the rocks.
"Ellenor," said a well-known voice, "what luck to find you quite alone here!"