“Down at the dock a while ago I met a young fellow named Carey, who told me that you owned the first woods up on the heights and that I might ask you for permission to camp there for the night at least.”
“Yes.” Beth was hesitating. She liked the appearance of the gentlemanly stranger, but would it do to offer him a place to camp in their woods?
“So, if your brother agrees, will you not consent? I make a neat camp and I will not set the woods on fire.”
Beth looked into the smiling face of the earnest young man and returned his smile. He might be a help, indeed, if they needed a friend at any time. “We are not stingy about our woods,” she said, “to any one who is careful. It is, I know, a fine place, because of the spring and good water. We expect some friends to camp with us later on in the summer. I think that I shall have to talk with my brother before I can say positively that you can make a real camp on our place, but surely for to-night we shall not refuse hospitality. Did you say that you have your outfit ready? We might spare you some things.”
“Thank you. You are generous and kind. It is quite a relief to have it settled temporarily. Where shall I find your brother?”
“He went out with our launch this afternoon, but he may be back at any time. You will probably want your equipment brought up by the road, not on the trail along the cliff. I can scarcely tell you now where to go, but you may select any spot that you like, if Dal is not there, and someone can show you the way to our camp; whoever brings you up will know the direction. It is toward the cliff, in any event. I will be there, or at the Eyrie, our little watch tower on the cliff.”
“Young Carey may bring my stuff, or get me some one,” he said. “I will be at the camp or the Eyrie in about an hour, I think.”
Evan Tudor smiled as he mentioned the Eyrie, for he was thinking that the “dove-cote” would be a more suitable place for a pretty, gentle girl like Beth. But people did not always recognize in Beth’s soft speech and ways of a gentlewoman her real energy and the fire of purpose which made it possible to do what she did.
Bowing his thanks, Evan Tudor left Beth, treading quickly and surely close to the line of swirling foam, where the retreating waters were leaving the sand more or less closely packed. Beth watched him naturally enough, as he was the only person on the beach except herself. He carried his hat and let the breeze blow his thick brown locks as it would while he strode along. If the young lawyer at home had seen the interest in Beth’s eyes, he would very probably have refused the opportunity which had just come to him to try an important case, and might have come to Maine on the next train.
Mr. Tudor was above medium height, slender, active, with a lean, attractive face and a pair of keen gray eyes which were to be employed with great effect during the next few weeks in the lines of a duty and interest. Beth followed him with her eyes till he had left the beach for the village; then she rose to go back to camp. But she had another slight interruption before she reached the place where the Secrest party usually climbed to the trail.