“Quite so,” assented Mortimer, “but all that happened was so utterly unlooked for that we could hardly have been expected to foresee it. Those who are disposed to criticise may be reminded of the old axiom that foresight is never equal to hindsight.”
“Quite true,” answered the Professor, “but what can you suggest as the best way out of our present position? What shall we do?”
There was a sound at the door, as of someone at work on the outer fastenings.
“Nothing—until after breakfast,” replied Mortimer. “Ah, here it comes, I think—and welcome.”
As he spoke the door opened and there appeared, at the head of the steps leading down into the cabin, the graceful figure of a girl carrying a large tray substantially laden with food. At a glance they recognized her as she whom they had seen upon landing.
Professor Dean rose and bowed.
“Miss Robert, I believe?” said Captain Mortimer, also rising and bowing.
The girl deposited her heavy tray, ran over to a locker and procured a white tablecloth which she spread upon the table.
“Yes,” she replied, with a merry laugh, “but here in the camp they call me ‘Valerie.’”
And she turned a pair of merry brown eyes upon them, eyes that rested with evident admiration on Mortimer’s jaunty military jacket, with its gay trappings. As she stood there smiling, with her high color, her jet-black hair, her graceful figure, and large but very white teeth showing between her full, scarlet lips, she was unquestionably a very pretty girl.