“And sorry that we came,” said Patrick, pretending to cry. “Come away, Geoffrey.”
“Naughty boy,” and Vivienne shook her head at him, then with Captain Macartney and Judy busied herself in getting Mrs. Macartney out on the ice and into the chair with runners, on which the lady sat for the remainder of the evening, being pushed hither and thither by any man who felt the spirit moving him to do so.
Camperdown arriving half an hour later, stood high up on the bank struck by the strange beauty of the scene. The moon, as if still uncertain of herself, shone with rays more pale and more tremulous, and shed a weird and peculiar light over the dark hills and the white breast of the Arm. There was a strange hush in the air, and not a breath of wind, and it was hardly freezing. Assuredly a storm was brewing and a thaw coming on.
Immediately below him the bonfires and torches stuck in the ground threw a broad, bold glare of light for some distance out on the ice, and the skaters for the most part were keeping pretty well in the bright space, and away from the semi-darkness of the regions beyond, where a few adventurous boys were madly careering. Their frolicsome shouts and exclamations Camperdown could hear but confusedly in the velvety softness of the air, but beneath him he could distinctly distinguish Patrick Macartney’s voice.
“Dr. Camperdown, my mother begs to inquire whether she has your gracious permission to partake of a cup of tea.”
“Three-quarters only, a whole cup later on,” said Camperdown, who, by means of rigid dieting had so reduced the weight of his patient that she had made a vow never to leave Nova Scotia.
“Camperdown, Camperdown,” called some one who espied him on the bank, “make haste; we want one for a set of sixteen lancers.”
Thus appealed to, he quickly put on his skates, passing on his way to the place where he was in demand, a little group consisting of Judy, Patrick, and Vivienne, who was giving them instructions in the art of skating.
Valentine skated swiftly up to them as he went by. “You are victimizing yourself,” he heard him say in a low voice to Vivienne, “Come with me for a spin.”
He saw the girl hesitate, but Valentine laughed, peremptorily seized her hand, and away they went toward the mouth of the Arm like two birds that had taken wing.