“How happy Gwyneth is!”
Just then Nest entered the room.
“How it blows,” she observed, as she sat down; “and it is so
dark; I looked out just now, to try and catch a glimpse of the sea, but every thing was as black as pitch; and, oh, such a roar of waves!”
“Just the night for me to visit the South Point Station,” observed Maurice, rising; “and it is time I was gone, too; but this pleasant fire and good tea make one lazy, Nest.”
“Must you ride all along those cliffs to-night, Maurice?—it is such a storm!” observed Hilary.
She had not yet become accustomed to the night-work, so as to see him depart without anxiety.
“Oh, that’s nothing!” said he, as he put on his great pilot coat; “and this is a fine night for smugglers: suppose I were to intercept a cargo to-night.”
The horse was brought round, and his sisters both went to the door to see him mount. They stood within the shelter of the porch, shading a candle as well as they could from the draft, while its flickering streams of light fell on exterior objects, forming grotesque shadows and strange contrasts, and then losing themselves in the dark back-ground.
Maurice kissed them both, and bade them go to bed, then mounted and trotted off over the hill.