On the 21st of September all the work at the villa at Prospect Hill was finished, and M. Zermatt decided to start for home next day at early dawn.
As they sat together that evening in the little balcony in front of the house, they witnessed a magnificent sunset below a clear horizon undimmed by the lightest haze. Ten miles away, Cape East rose from a foundation of shadow, broken sometimes by points of light as the surf broke against the rocks at its foot. The sea was absolutely calm, and spread in a curve as far as Deliverance Bay. Below the hill the grass lands, shaded by clumps of trees, blent their verdant carpet with the yellow tinted sands. Behind, twenty miles away to the south, the mountain range, to which Mr. Wolston's eyes often strayed, was shaded off, its edges scalloped with a line of gold by the last rays of the sun.
Next day the waggon went down the steep slopes of Prospect Hill and took the road once more, and in the afternoon it arrived at the gates of Rock Castle. The travellers were received with delight, although their expedition had not involved an absence of more than a couple of weeks.
That evening, when the two families were all together again in the large hall and M. Zermatt had finished his story of the expedition to the farms, Ernest laid upon the table a sheet of paper on which was a coloured drawing.
"Hullo, what is that?" Jack asked. "The plan of the future capital of New Switzerland?"
"Not yet," Ernest answered.
"Then I can't guess——"
"Why, it is the design for the inside decoration of our little chapel," said Hannah.
"That's it, Jack," said Ernest, "and I had to get on with it, for the walls are half built already."
The announcement caused great pleasure, and Ernest was warmly praised for his work, which was voted perfect both in its style and its arrangement.