“Now, Dick, you know I did not mean that—about your being a poor companion,” answered Flora. “On the contrary, you are the very best companion that a girl in my unfortunate situation could possibly have; for you are, before and above all else, a gentleman—a chivalrous, courteous, tender-hearted gentleman, with whom I feel as safe as though you were my brother. And then you are brave, strong, resourceful, and so utterly unselfish that you amaze me—”
“There, that will do, thank you,” laughed Leslie. “Do you wickedly wish to make me conceited? Because you will, if you say much more in that strain. As to ‘brothers,’ I hope you don’t look upon me as a brother, do you?”
“Why, yes—almost,” answered the girl, a little doubtfully. “Do you not wish me to regard you as a brother, Dick?”
“Um,” he meditated; “of course that would be better than nothing; but—oh no; on the whole I think I have no desire that you should regard me as a brother. There, now of course I have offended you. What an ass and a cad I am!”
“You are not; you are not! And I will not have you say so,” exclaimed the girl, passionately. “And you have not offended me,” she went on. “It is only that I am feeling a little depressed to-day; and your—I mean—oh, I cannot explain!”
And therewith she turned away abruptly, and beat a hasty retreat to the shelter of the tent.
Leslie looked after her as though for a moment he felt inclined to follow her. Then he thought better of it, and meditatively proceeded to land the things that he had brought ashore from the brig. This done, he hunted up the axe and wandered off to the woods in search of a couple of spars to serve as sheers for working the main hatchway. The cutting down of these, the conveyance of them to the shore, and the towing of them off alongside the brig provided him with plenty of work for the remainder of the day; he therefore did not again meet his companion until the day’s work was over and they sat down to dinner. It was apparent that by that time the young lady had completely recovered her spirits; but she carefully avoided all reference to the little scene that had occurred earlier in the day, so Leslie thought it best to let the matter drop, although he continued to puzzle over it for several days thereafter.
The following day saw Leslie once again aboard the brig, where he busied himself in getting his spars in on deck, converting them into sheers, fitting them, and by means of tackles and stays rearing them into position and securing them. It was a long and heavy job, occupying him the entire day, and sending him back to the island at night completely fagged out. But on the succeeding day he went off to the brig early—in fact, before Flora made her appearance—and strenuously devoted himself to the task of breaking out the contents of the main hold. He spent the entire morning in rousing cases, bales, and packages of all kinds up on deck; and after partaking of a hurried lunch he carefully opened these and examined their contents. Two of the largest he found to contain respectively men’s and women’s clothing; another contained books and music; a fourth contained stationery and drawing-paper; a fifth contained rolls of silk, linen, drapery, ribbons, laces, and haberdashery; and all these he lowered on to the deck of the catamaran for conveyance to the shore. Others contained rolls of wall-paper, ironmongery, photographic materials, drugs—with the properties and uses of which he was unacquainted—lawn-mowers, garden rollers, and other matters that did not appeal to him; and these he sent over the side to keep the bird-cages company. Then, when the sun was within half an hour of the western horizon, he left the brig and returned to the island with his booty.
Flora seemed greatly amused when Leslie told her what he had brought ashore.
“Why, Dick,” she exclaimed, “there is enough clothing in those two cases to last us for the rest of our lives; to say nothing of that third case which you say is full of unmade silks and linen. Surely it was scarcely necessary to cumber yourself with the last, was it?”