There was very little said just then. They glided on in a delicious stillness; and presently the boat ran close to some old worn steps that were half hidden by tall, coarse grass, and was made fast. Arnold had determined to land on the island.
"Come," he said, almost imperiously.
"I didn't think of this," Elsie answered, her colour coming and going, "and we shall be missed. It is time for Jamie to go home."
"No, it isn't," said Jamie gaily, as Arnold lifted him out upon the decayed little pier.
A path led from the pier through a thicket of wild foliage, and then they came to a clear space and a little thatched hut shaped like a bee-hive. There was nothing in it save an old pair of oars and a broken basket, but the place had been kept in pretty good repair.
Right in front of the hut the underwood had been cleared away, and the ground sloped gently down to the water. The slow, full, golden river was flowing on, and they stood silently watching the tide.
"We are out of the world here," Arnold said at last. "One could fancy that Father Time sometimes comes to this forgotten island and sits down to rest. Nothing has changed here since I was a boy; the trees have grown thicker and taller, that is all."
"Somebody said that you were going to improve the island," Elsie remarked. "I hardly see how that can be done."
"I merely thought of making it more habitable," he replied. "It would be possible to establish Giles and his wife very comfortably here. They are living now in a disreputable old cottage which ought to have been pulled down years ago."
"Then you think of building a nice little house instead of that bee-hive hut?"