Cecil paid his reckoning, and the children scrambled along the rocks to a cove where a fishing smack was making ready for sea. Lee wondered why her feet glanced off the rocks in such a peculiar fashion, but she was filled with the joy of exhilaration, of a reckless delight in doing something of which the entire Hayne boarding-house would disapprove.
Cecil made a rapid bargain with the man, an ugly Italian, who gave him scant attention. A few moments later they were skimming up and down the big waves and making for the open sea. At first Lee clung in terror to Cecil, who assured her patronisingly that it was an old story with him, and there was no danger. In a few moments the exhilaration returned five-fold, and she waved her arms with delight as they shot down the billows into the emerald valleys. Out at sea the boat skimmed along an almost level surface, and the children became absorbed in the big fish nets, and very dirty. Lee thought the flopping fish nasty and drew up her feet, but Cecil’s very nostrils quivered with the delight of the sport, although his surly hosts had snubbed his offer to lend a hand.
Suddenly Lee rubbed her eyes. The sun had gone. He had been well above the horizon the last time she had glanced across the waters. Had he slipped his moorings? She pointed out the phenomenon to Cecil. He stared a moment, then appealed to the Italians.
“Da fogga, by damn!” exclaimed the Captain to his mate. “What for he coming so soon? Com abouta.”
The little craft turned and raced with the breeze for land. The children faced about and watched that soft stealthy curtain swing after. It was as white as cloud, as chill as dawn, as eerie as sound in the night. It took on varying outlines, breaking into crags and mountain peaks and turrets. It opened once and caught a wedge of scarlet from the irate sun. For a moment a ribbon of flame ran up and down its length, then broke into drops of blood, then hurried whence it came. Through the fog mountain came a long dismal moan, the fog-horn of the Farallones, warning the ships at sea.
The children crept close together. Lee locked her arm in Cecil’s. Neither spoke. Suddenly the boat jolted heavily and they scrambled about, thinking they were on the rocks. But the Italians were tying the boat to a little wharf, and unreefing her. The dock was strangely unfamiliar. Cecil glanced hastily across the bay. San Francisco lay opposite.
“Oh, I say!” he exclaimed. “Aren’t you going across before that fog gets here?”
“Si you wanta crossa that bay you swimming,” remarked the Captain, stepping ashore.
Cecil jumped after him with blazing eyes and angry fists. “You know I thought you were going back there,” he cried. “Why, you’re a villain! And a girl too! I’ll have you arrested.”
The man laughed. Cecil, through tears of mortification, regarded that large bulk, and choked back his wrath.