She ran a few steps, but he could not let her go yet, and in an instant he sprang abreast of her. He threw one arm about her waist and the other about her neck, tipped up her chin, and kissed her on the lips. A gurgling laugh came up to him.
"Remember!" he whispered over the upturned face in the white kerchief.
At the next instant he was gone. Then, standing under the dark elms alone, she heard the porch door opening, a heavy foot treading on the gravel, and a deep voice saying: "Here are the heifers home, but where's the little lass?"
It was her eldest brother, Asher, and she walked up to him and said quite calmly:—
"Oh! what a bad hasp that gate has—it takes such a time to open and close."
Michael Sunlocks reached the harbor at the time appointed. As he crossed the quay some fishermen were lounging there with pipes between their teeth. A few of them came up to him to bid him Godspeed in their queer way.
Stephen Orry was standing apart by the head of the harbor steps, and at the bottom of them his boat, a yawl, was lying moored. They got into it and Stephen sculled out of the harbor. It was still very thick over the town, but they could see the lights of the Irish brig in the bay. Outside the pier the air was fresher, and there was something of a swell on the water.
"The fog is lifting," said Stephen Orry. "There'll be a taste of a breeze before long."
He seemed as if he had something to say but did not know how to begin. His eye caught the light on Point of Ayre.