And so the young man, finding he could not persuade, had perforce to let himself be persuaded, and follow when he would have led--or rather, sat down.
The slope was not very steep, though it was longer than Peter would have expected a walk on so small an island could be; but at length they reached the rounded flatness of the summit, and looked around. The island spread out beneath on every side, and the sister islands were marshalled north and south like sentinels to guard the inner waters. Lippenstock Bay lay within them, a burnished glass throwing back the sunshine; and the country beyond looked higher, more varied and important than when seen from the water-level. An unmistakable breeze had now sprung up, and was carrying straggling wreaths of cloud before it, the vanguard of more solid masses which were creeping up the sky from the distant west. Eastward the ocean now had lost its sapphire blueness and grown dull and grey, while far out toward the horizon it lowered beneath the oncome of the rising clouds, great cumulus masses lifting themselves in heaven and advancing against the breeze. They caught the rays of the opposing sun upon their breasts, and flashed them back, and sprinkled them on the sea, turning its lively blue to a white sickly grey.
"What splendid clouds!" cried Margaret. "But there will be a storm. When those clouds from the east meet the clouds in the west, we shall have thunder."
"I remember a sky the day I crossed the St Gothard, going down into the plains of Italy. Very fine it was----"
"Yes; I daresay it would be. The Old World must be a very superior place to this poor continent of ours. Even the sun and moon must shine better over there, by all accounts. The wonder is, how any of you travelled folks ever cared to come here at all. But say! there is quite a breeze coming down the bay; where can that sail-boat we were watching have gone? I cannot make out a sail anywhere. Is it the dazzle from the water that conceals it, do you think? Or can it be hid behind one of the islands, I wonder?"
"I see something white flapping behind that promontory down there, where the channel narrows between this island and the next. There it falls! They have taken it down. The men must be landing."
"Where? Ah! let us run down and see."
Peter would have liked to bite his tongue. Found guilty of that offence unpardonable in trans-Atlantic eyes, of praising the Old World at the expense of the New, he had thought to make his peace by discovering for his companion the object for which her eyes were searching the prospect; and he had done it with a vengeance. Not only was the offence forgotten, but himself seemed likely to be forgotten or overlooked as well. To think that he could be gauche enough to conduct his fair one into the arms of the very rival who had aroused his suspicion that morning! He had forgotten since then; things had gone so smoothly and pleasantly. What an awakening! "Duffer!" he muttered below his breath, and felt humbled indeed. But he made one poor struggle with destiny ere he yielded. He pulled out his watch, and asked his companion with a start if she had any idea what was the hour.
"The tide is turning, you must remember," he added. "We shall hear the whistle within fifteen minutes, and the steamer cannot wait. The skipper says she will be grounded by the ebb if we are not off by four. And a storm is coming on. I declare I hear distant thunder already. How dim the light is getting, too! It will take all we can do to be back in time. We have only twenty minutes."
"Your watch must be fast," and Margaret pulled out her own. "Ten minutes past three I make it, and I know mine is fast. See the groups scattered all over the island! No one has thought of turning yet. There is Judge Petty with his hammer pounding specimens out of yon cliff. Yonder is my sister with somebody picking flowers for her. Nobody thinks of gathering me a bouquet, ever. There is a party down there in the hollow, and I can distinguish Lettice Deane's voice quite plainly; and far over are two people standing on the edge of a cliff showing like silhouettes against the open sea. Uncle Joseph is one of them. No one is thinking of turning back."