"Gerald!" he replied softly.
"Prince Gerald!" she said, smiling, and slipped down the tree rapidly, as Bellaria called again. Haskins, parting the leaves, saw her cross the lawn, and enter the house in the company of a tall, lean woman. But it was too dark to see Bellaria's looks at that distance.
The adventurer slipped from the wall, and descended to "Mother Carey's Peace Pool," as he named the place. Paddling to the opposite side, he found a sloping bank and dragged his canoe into the undergrowth. Then, in the rosy twilight, he scrambled through the bushes to find some path or road leading to Denleigh.
[CHAPTER V.]
GOLDEN HOURS.
How Haskins reached the Devon Maid that evening he could not tell, for his memory was occupied in recalling every word of that delightful conversation. But in some way he managed to strike a narrow path which led on to the high moors, and thence gained the highway, descending into Denleigh valley. It was rather late when he entered his sitting-room, and the rosy hues of the sunset had given place to the shadowy stillness of a summer night. Supper was waiting for him, and almost immediately the negro appeared with a hot dish.
"I thought you were lost, sah," said Geary, looking closely at Gerald's flannels, which were somewhat torn by brambles, and smeared with mud.
"Oh no," answered the young man, ready with an explanation, since he wished to satisfy the negro's curiosity without enlightening him. "I have been down the river and up the river in my canoe. But I got mixed up with stones and cross-currents, and blundered in the darkness. I therefore hid my canoe in the bushes, and came back."
"And you like the river, sah?" asked Geary, lingering.
Haskins supped his soup and nodded. "A most charming river," he said in a careless voice, "very quiet, very lonely. I shall explore it again to-morrow afternoon."