“Here's a side path, Miss Thorne,” he said, abruptly, “that seems to go down into the woods. Shall we explore? It won't be dark for an hour yet.”
They descended with some difficulty, since the way was not cleat, and came into the woods at a point not far from the log across the path. “We mustn't sit there any more,” he observed, “or we'll fight. That's where we were the other day, when you attempted to assassinate me.”
“I didn't!” exclaimed Ruth indignantly.
“That rag does seem to be pretty dry,” he said, apparently to himself. “Perhaps, when we get to the sad sea, we can wet it, and so insure comparative calm.”
She laughed, reluctantly. The path led around the hill and down from the highlands to a narrow ledge of beach that lay under the cliff. “Do you want to drown me?” she asked. “It looks very much as if you intended to, for this ledge is covered at high tide.”
“You wrong me, Miss Thorne; I have never drowned anything.”
His answer was lost upon her, for she stood on the beach, under the cliff, looking at the water. The shimmering turquoise blue was slowly changing to grey, and a single sea gull circled overhead.
He made two or three observations, to which Ruth paid no attention. “My Lady Disdain,” he said, with assumed anxiety, “don't you think we'd better go on? I don't know what time the tide comes in, and I never could look your aunt in the face if I had drowned her only relative.”
“Very well,” she replied carelessly, “let's go around the other way.”
They followed the beach until they came to the other side of the hill, but found no path leading back to civilisation, though the ascent could easily be made.