“As early as you please.”
“Then at crack o’ dawn we go.”
And the next morning, at crack o’ dawn, they started off, Pats with a knapsack so voluminous that he resembled a pedler.
Elinor thought it too much for him to carry. “You can never walk all day with that on your back. Pedestrians that I have seen never carry such loads.”
“Then you have never seen pedestrians who carry their food and lodgings with them. And you forget that we are not in the zone of large hotels.”
“I feel very guilty. If I were not along you would have less to carry.”
164“Have no fears, Light of the North. If one of us three falls by the wayside it will be neither Solomon nor myself.”
This knapsack consisted of three blankets,–two of flannel, one of rubber,–some claret bottles filled with water, and food for five days. There was also coffee and a little brandy.
As they started off, along their own little beach, the sun was just appearing over the strip of land ahead. Solomon, in high spirits, galloped madly about on the hard sand, with an occasional plunge among the breakers. But Pats and Elinor, although similarly affected by the morning air, economized their steps, for a long day’s tramp was before them.
At the eastern end of the beach, before entering the woods, both stopped and took a final look toward home. A rosy light was on sea and land. Beyond the beach, with its tumbling waves all aglow from the rising sun, stood the Point of Lory, and their eyes lingered about the cottage. Nestling peacefully among the pines, it also caught the morning light.