“Do you know, I made a remark something like that to Miss Yarnell the other day, and she took it quite seriously?”
“Was she afraid of the pirate chief?”
“She eyed me in that brooding, blazing way of hers—you remember how she looked when she tried to ride over us on the road the other day?”
“Remember!”
“Exactly. She eyed me in that fashion, then thanked me for the suggestion.”
“What did she mean?”
“I haven’t the least idea. Betty, what do you know about her?”
The girl put her hand suddenly on his arm. “What was that? A drop of water? I do believe it’s going to rain. And hear the surf! It’s fairly roaring. It must be blowing hard. I wonder if the yacht is all right.”
The thought brought them to their feet, and out of their sheltered hollow. They found a changed world.
While they ate, clouds had been gathering west and north, and now seemed to fill the whole space from bay to sky. A mile or two beyond the island, a white line advancing over the churning waters gave promise of a furious squall. Worst of all, the wind had risen until, even on their leeward side of the island, the swell was momentarily growing heavier.