“Excuse me, please. That is, I suppose I could do it, only, seeing you slip—I prefer to wait awhile.”
“Are you afraid?”
There was no sarcasm in the question. She asked it in all sincerity. Adrian was different from Pierre, the only other boy she knew, and she simply wondered if tree-climbing were among his unknown accomplishments.
It had been, to the extent possible with his city training and his brief summer vacations, though unpracticed of late; but no lad of spirit, least of all impetuous Adrian, could bear even the suggestion of cowardice. He did not sit down, as she had bidden, but tossed aside his rough jacket and leaped to the lower branch of the great pine tree.
“Why, it’s easy! It’s grand!” he called back, and went up swiftly enough.
Indeed, it was not so difficult as it appeared from a distance. Wherever the branches failed the spiral ladder had been perfected by great spikes driven into the trunk, and he had but to clasp these in turn to make a safe ascent. At the top he waved his hand, then shaded his eyes and peered northward.
“He’s coming! Somebody’s coming!” he shouted. “There’s a little boat pushing off from that other shore.”
Then he descended with a rapidity that delighted even himself and called forth a bit of praise from Margot.
“I’m so glad you can climb. One can see so much more from the tree-tops; and, oh! there is so much, so much to find out all the time! Isn’t there?”
“Yes. Decidedly. One of the things I’d like to find out first is who you are and how you came here. If you’re willing.”