At that moment Cynthia advanced with Lacelle from between the pillars at the back. She gave me a welcoming smile, with which some reproach was mingled, and then bent over the pail and dipped the cold water from it with her cup. She handed it to Lacelle. The girl pushed the cup away and made Cynthia drink first.
When all had finished, I took my share.
"You haven't had any?" exclaimed Cynthia. "How selfish we have all been! I thought you would get some at the stream."
"How did you get our pail, Mr. Jones, sir?" asked the Bo's'n.
I did not wish to alarm Cynthia.
"Oh, that's my secret!" said I.
Cynthia looked kindly at me now.
"Come with me, Mr. Jones," she said, "and see the charming room that Lacelle has found for me."
I followed the two back between the pillars, and after one or two turnings we came to a small room where Cynthia was entirely secluded and quiet. Here a faint light trembled down from overhead. I looked up and could see the branches of trees moving in the high wind, and behind them the red sky of sunset. Along the wall ran one of those surprising benches of stone, and on this Cynthia, or Lacelle for her, had laid the blanket and placed the pillow.
"Who brought these up here?" I asked.