He stretched his arms and yawned.
“No,” said Tony, “it’s the place. Whom the gods wish to send mad they first send to Treliss. It’s in the air. Ask that old fellow, Morelli.”
“Why Morelli?” Maradick asked quickly.
“Well, it’s absurd of me,” said Tony. “But I don’t mind betting that he knows all about it. He’s uncanny; he knows all about everything. It’s just as if he set us all dancing to his tune like the Pied Piper.” He laughed. “Just think! all of us dancing; you and I, mother, father, Alice, Rupert, the Lesters, Mrs. Maradick, Mrs. Lawrence—and Janet!” he added suddenly.
“Janet,” he said, catching Maradick’s arm and walking up the beach. “Can’t you see her dancing? that hair and those eyes! Janet!”
“I’m sleepy,” said Maradick unsympathetically. “I shall lie with my head in the gorse and snore.”
He was feeling absolutely right in every part of his body; his blood ran in his veins like a flame. He hummed a little tune as he climbed the path.
“Why! that’s Morelli’s tune,” said Tony, “I’d been trying to remember it; the tune he played that night,” and then suddenly they saw Mrs. Lester.
She sat on a rock that had been cut into a seat in the side of the hill. She could not see the beach immediately below because the cliff projected in a spreading cloud of gorse, but the sea lay for miles in front of her, and the gold of the hill struck sharp against the blue. She herself sat perched on the stone, the little wind blowing her hair about her face. She was staring out to sea and did not see them until they were right upon her.
Tony shouted “Hullo, Milly,” and she turned.