On the right, off to the west, the land showed merely as a purple strip in the fading light, stretching out into the gulf a dozen miles or more. Behind it the sinking sun had left a bar of crimson light. To the east lay another headland running, like its neighbor, many miles to the south. These two coasts formed a vast bay, at whose northern extremity lay the little point at which Miss Elinor Marshall and Mr. Patrick Boyd had been landed by the Maid of the North. In the gathering gloom this prospect, 99with the towering forest that lay behind, was impressive–and solemn. And the solemnity of the scene was intensified by the primeval solitude,–the absence of all sign of human life.
Both travellers were silent, thoughtful, and very tired. It had been a long day, and then the misunderstanding in the middle of it had told considerably upon the nerves of both. To Pats the most exhausting experience of all had been the business of the baggage,–its transportation from the beach below to the house above. Elinor’s trunk, being far too heavy for their own four hands, Pats had suggested carrying the trays up separately; and this was done. Certain things from his own trunk he had lugged off into the woods, where, as he said:
“There’s a little outbuilding that will do for me. Not a royal museum like this of yours, but good accommodations for a bachelor.”
She did not inquire as to particulars. The gentleman’s bed-chamber was not a subject on which she cared to encourage confidences.
Her fatigue had merely created a wholesome desire for rest,–the sleepiness and indifference that come from weary muscles. But Pats’s exhaustion was of a different sort. All the 100strength of his body had departed. Every muscle, cord, and sinew was unstrung. His spine seemed on the point of folding up. A hollow, nervous feeling had settled in the back of his head, and being something new it caused him a mild uneasiness. Moreover, his hands and feet were cold. Dispiriting chills travelled up and down his back at intervals. This might be owing to the change in temperature, as a storm was evidently brewing.
The wind from the northwest had grown several degrees colder since the sun went down, and the heavens were sombre. There was not a star in sight. A yearning to close his eyes and go to sleep came over him, but he remembered how offensive was his presence to this lady, even at his best behavior. He must take no liberties; so he remarked, cheerfully, in a tone indicative of suppressed exuberance of spirit:
“I hope you will not feel nervous in your château to-night.”
“No, I think not. It is a weird place to sleep in, however.”
“Yes, it is. Wouldn’t you like me to sleep just outside, near the door? I am used to camping out, you know.”
101“No, I thank you. I shall get along very well, I have no doubt.”