“Chaste Dian!” exclaimed the sportsman; “pardon me for this intrusion. Quite inadvertent, I assure you. I must track back,” he continued, “to save myself from being transformed into a stag. Provoking, too! I wanted to go that way to explore a cave I’ve heard spoken of. I came out with this intention. How awkward to be thus interrupted!”
There was something like a lie outlined upon his features as he muttered the last reflection. In his actions too; for he still loitered behind the rock—still kept looking over it.
Plunging in pellucid water not waist-deep—their lower extremities only concealed by the saturated skirts that clung like cerements around them—their feet showing clear as coral—the two young creatures continued to disport themselves. Only Joseph himself could have retreated from the sight!
And then their long hair in full dishevelment—of two colour, black and gold—sprinkled by the pearly spray, as the girls, with tiny rose-tipped fingers, dashed the water in each other’s faces—all the time making the rocks ring with the music of their merry voices—ah! from such a picture who could comfortably withdraw his eyes?
It cost the sportsman an effort; of which he was capable—only by thinking of his sister.
And thinking of her, he loitered no longer, but drew back behind the rock.
“Deuced awkward!” he again muttered to himself—perhaps this time with more sincerity. “I wished particularly to go that way. The cave cannot be much farther on, and now to trudge all the way back! I must either do that, or wait till they’ve got through their game of aquatics.”
For a moment he stood reflecting. It was a considerable distance to the place where he had descended the cliff. Moreover, the track was toilsome, as he had proved by experience.
He decided to stay where he was till the “coast should be clear.”
He sat down upon a stone, took out a cigar, and commenced smoking.