In the sunny reaches of the river the boats carried Japanese umbrellas which made charming touches of colour against the green. Under the great trees more boats were moored in the shade, while their occupants brought out the tea-baskets from beneath the seats.
Viva and Inda regarded all such proceedings as deliberate offences against their exclusive rights, and angrily pointed out the fact that “other people” were having picnics too; but the Captain soothed them by a promise that the island should be their private property, and that he would fight to the death to keep off foreign invasions. Already this land of promise was looming in the distance, and presently they were rowing slowly round and round looking for a convenient place of landing, tying the rope to the trunk of a willow whose branches dipped in the stream, and stepping cautiously ashore.
The children were wild with excitement, but the Captain claimed for himself a quarter of an hour’s rest and smoke before proceeding to the difficult business of boiling the kettle; and the two little girls scampered off to explore the island, promising faithfully to keep clear of the banks.
“Mamzelle shall stay and talk to me! It’s my turn to be amused,” he said; but for once Pixie did not seem in a talkative mood, but leant silently against the stump of a tree, staring around her with dreamy eyes.
The young fellow watched her curiously as he pulled his pipe out of his pocket and prepared for the longed-for smoke. “What are you thinking of, Mamzelle?” he asked; and Pixie looked round with a little start of remembrance.
“I don’t know. Everything. Nothing in particular, only that it’s so warm and sunny and pretty; and you are so kind. I wasn’t thinking anything, only being happy.”
“‘Only being happy,’ were you?” he repeated softly. “Does it seem so easy, little Mamzelle? Some of the richest men in the world would give all their money if you could teach them that little secret. ‘Only being happy’ is a very difficult thing to some of us as we grow older in this world.”
Pixie looked at him with an anxious scrutiny.
“But you were happy once, weren’t you,” she asked, “before you were miserable? People have been kind to you too, and made you happy before you began to be worried?”
“I worried! I miserable! Mamzelle, what can you mean? I am out for a picnic, with three charming ladies for my guests. How can I be anything but proud and delighted?”