“A beautiful day, Mr. Pitt,” said he, after studying the sky. “The good weather will hold, and short-handed as we are that’s what we must be praying for.”
“We sail today, then?”
“This afternoon, sir.”
“Good!” I said. “It will be a relief to get out of here.”
I breakfasted alone. From the cabin-door I saw Betty Baldwin come from her stateroom, stand blinking in the morning sun and filling her lungs with the tingling air. And she was beautiful to my eyes as she had never been before, and I entered my stateroom and locked the door.
Hours afterward I heard Black Sam dropping the paddles into a canoe alongside; heard him telling Betty that the craft was ready. Presently Chanler knocked on my door.
“Oh, Gardy! Come out here.”
I flung open the door.
“Betty wants to have one last paddle down the bay,” he said casually.
“Well,” I replied, “why doesn’t she go?”