"I got to thinking of this," he continued, and he laid his hand on the box to which the telephone receiver was attached. "It's something I've been working out. I want to test it. It's a fine coast for the purpose. Plenty of submerged rocks, I should say," and he gazed about him.
She also swept the rolling leagues of misty emptiness, but with the glance of one who is familiar with them, then her eyes, wistful and unutterably intense, went to his. There was something about the life and mentality of this man that startled and stirred her, something in his appearance that seemed to speak of a nature unshackled, gigantic.
"I asked that boy at the old barn up the road where I could get hold of a boat and someone to row," he continued, "but he didn't tell me."
She turned from him. "I'll take you," she volunteered, "this afternoon."
At this the stranger showed a row of brilliant teeth. "Why that—that's fine," he said. Once more his manner was gentle, almost caressing.
To demonstrate his gratitude he tore from the book the sketch of the figure-head and presented it to her.
She took it without exhibiting any emotion. Then, leading the cow, she disappeared around a boulder. A moment later, however, she appeared on its summit, and the cow pushed up behind her so that his first miraculous impression was repeated.
"What time," she asked, "do you want to go?"
He moved his lips without speaking; a magical light had dawned on his world.
"Why, about three o'clock," he answered,—pausing between the words.