“Why, mother, I can drive,” said Rollo. “I have been driving some time.”
“I rather think there will be no danger,” said Mr. Holiday to his wife, turning towards her as she sat upon the back seat. “The road is pretty level and retired, and he will keep close along behind the carryall.”
Rollo’s mother looked rather doubtfully, and yet she could not help feeling a certain degree of pleasure at thinking that Rollo was old enough to drive alone. She accordingly consented, and the change was at once made. Rollo’s father and mother sat on the back seat of the carryall, and Jonas before, to drive them; while Rollo, Mary, and Lucy took possession of the wagon.
Rollo drove very well. He kept near the carryall, and was so attentive to his business as a driver, and so successful in avoiding stones and jolts, and in turning out for the various vehicles they met upon the road, that his father let him drive so all the rest of the way.
They gradually approached the sea-shore. The country grew wild and hilly, and great ledges of rocks were seen in the fields and by the road side. At length, upon the summit of a long ascent, the broad sea burst into view, stretching along the horizon before them, smooth and glassy, with here and there a small white sail almost motionless in the distance. Below them was a long, sandy beach. The surf was breaking against it. A swell of the sea, of the whole length of the beach, would rise and advance, growing higher and more distinct as it approached, and then it would break over upon the shore in one long line of foam, white and beautiful, and gracefully curved to adapt itself to the curvature of the shore. At the extremities of the beach, points and promontories of ragged rocks extended out into the water, white with the breakers which foamed and struggled around them. From the whole there arose a continued and solemn roar, like the sound of a great waterfall.
Mr. Holiday stopped his horse by the side of the road, and Rollo, when he reached the place, stopped also.
“Here we are,” said Rollo. “That’s the sea.”
“Where’s the beach?” said Lucy.
Mary was silent.
“Come,” said Rollo, “let’s drive on.”