She stepped back with an exclamation of surprise, but gave no sign to indicate that she was afraid.
I sprang to my feet.
"I am very sorry,—miss," I said sincerely.
"Oh!—there ain't much to be sorry over. This ain't my island. Still,—girls don't much care about men watching them from behind places," she replied, with a tone of displeasure.
"And I am sorry,—again," I answered. "Please forgive me, for I could hardly help it. I was lying here when I heard you sing. I became curious. When you landed, I intended making my presence known, but I said to myself just what you have said now:—'It is not my island.' However, I shall go now and leave you in possession."
"Where is your boat?"
"Didn't bring one with me."
"How did you get here then?"
Her blunt questioning was rather disconcerting.
"Oh! I walked it," I answered lightly, with a grin.