“And what else would you have in mid-water? If we can but find something to burn!”
“I believe there is a hut,” said Wareham, curving his hands into a telescope.
“A solitary! Only this was wanted.” Anne’s face was radiant.
“He may drive us away.”
“A man? Oh, no!” she laughed serenely.
Her confidence proved well-founded, for the Sogne fisherman, who leaped down the rocks to give the boat a helping hand, gave them a grave welcome. He was a wild figure with his scarlet jacket, brown breeches, and light hair under a broad hat. Anne looked at him appreciatively.
“I could not have dressed him better myself—for the piece,” she said. “How odious I am to say so! It is one of the snares of over-civilisation that, instead of the theatre suggesting nature, nature suggests the theatre. This is all so natural that I feel we ought to be applauding.”
She was stiff with sitting. Wareham gave her his hand to help her from the boat, and the light touch of her fingers thrilled him.
The island was no more than a rock, with scant herbage; a few goats and a dog shared it with the man; a boat was drawn up at one shelving point, and the low hut was formed of heaped pieces of rock and roofed with waving grass. There was no chimney; a hole in the roof sufficed for the smoke to pass through. Anne was as excited as a child. She unpacked her tine, and spread their meal on a rock. Wareham had to act as interpreter, and ask that a peat or two might be set ablaze to provide them with hot water; the man’s good-will did not reach the point of making him hurry, but he watched Anne’s quick deft movements with amusement. When all was ready they sat down together. Anne had brought a little tea-pot and two cups, Wareham a bottle of wine, which the men drank out of a rough mug; he could not give up the pleasure of letting Anne pour out tea for himself. It was a very frugal meal, added to, though it was, by dried fish; and when it was finished, she dispensed tobacco to the three men. It seemed she detested the smell; Wareham suggested their walking round the island until the pipes had been smoked. She hesitated, finally agreed.
They scrambled round to the western side, a filmy glory spread over the heavens, interrupted only by the swoop of a grey vapourish cloud. As it had been all along, what the waters saw they gave back again, so that the golden suffusion reached to their very feet. The near reflections were now dark.