He wore a smart, close-fitting brown racing overcoat, which reached to his ankles; and for her he brought his fur-lined ulster.

"Here I am," he said cheerfully. "Get into this," and he held out the ulster.

She put her arms into the sleeves, and he drew it around her and b.u.t.toned it up.

"You are a kind boy," she said, with a little break in her voice. A sudden strong but inexplicable impulse moved Tinker; he bent forward and kissed her on the lips.

While you might count a score the children stood quite still, staring at one another with eyes luminous in the starlight. Elsie's face was one pink flush, and Tinker was scarlet.

"That--that was a very funny kiss," she said in a curious voice.

"Oh, what's a kiss?" said Tinker, with forced bravado, consumed with boyish shame for the lapse.

"I--I--liked it," said Elsie. "No one has kissed me since father died." And her breath seemed to catch.

"Girls like kissing," said Tinker in a tone of a dispa.s.sionate observer. Then he seemed to thrust the matter away from him with some eagerness: and, slipping her arm through his, he said, "Come on, let's walk up and down."

They walked up and down, chattering away, till eight o'clock. Then he said, "My father will be expecting me; he dines at eight. Won't you come too?"

"No, no, thank you. I must wait for Uncle Richard; I must really."

But her arm tightened round his involuntarily.

Tinker thought a while. The gardens were brighter now. The stars were shining with their full radiance, and the lamps were alight, so that even their retired corner was faintly bright.

"Well, you go on walking up and down. You won't feel so lonely as sitting still, and I'll be back as soon as I can;" he said, and off he went.

He found his father and Lord Crosland beginning their soup, and, sitting down, he told them of Elsie's plight. They were duly sympathetic; and his father at once gave him leave to take some dinner to her, and dine with her. Thereupon, after a brief but serious conference with the manager, Tinker departed, again followed by a waiter with a tray. Elsie had not looked for his return for a long while; and she was indeed pleased to be so soon freed from the struggle against her timidity.

They ate their dinner with great cheerfulness and good appet.i.te, and for an hour after it they chattered away happily. Then Elsie grew drowsy, very drowsy, indeed, and presently, nestled against Tinker, she fell asleep. Fortunately, the southern night was warm, and, in the fur-lined ulster, she could take no harm. He sat holding her to him, listening to her breathing, looking out over the sea, and revolving many memories and more schemes, till, at last, the lights began to dance before his eyes, and he, too, fell asleep.

He knew no more until he was awakened by someone shaking his arm, and found his father and Lord Crosland standing over them.

The lamps of the Casino and the gardens were out; only the dim starlight lighted the scene. The two children sat up and stared about them--Elsie sleepily, Tinker wide awake.

"We've found you at last. Hasn't your little friend's uncle come for her?" said Sir Tancred.

"No one has come," said Tinker.

Sir Tancred and Lord Crosland looked at one another.

"Desertion," murmured Lord Crosland softly.

"Well, come along," said Sir Tancred cheerfully. "We must put her up for to-night."

The children slipped off the seat; Tinker put Elsie's arm through his, and, holding her up when she stumbled over the long ulster, followed his father and Lord Crosland.

There were some empty bedrooms in their corridor, and Elsie was settled for the night in one of them.

Tinker awoke next morning, very cheerful at the thought of having a companion to join in his amus.e.m.e.nts. He made haste to knock at Elsie's door, and bid her come out for a swim before their coffee. She was soon dressed and found him waiting for her. She flushed a little as she greeted him, and he greeted her with a seraph's smile.

"I thought you'd like a bathe before our coffee," he said.

"It would be nice," said Elsie wistfully. "But my hair--it is such a trouble, even without being wetted by sea-water."

Tinker looked at the fine silky ma.s.s of it, and said with sympathetic seriousness, "I saw it was beyond you; but we'll manage."

He caught her hand, they ran down the stairs, out of the hotel, and most of the way to the beach. Then he took her to a lady's bathing-tent, and instructed the attendant to provide Elsie with the prettiest costume she had; changed himself, and in five minutes they were in the sea. To his joy, he found that she could swim nearly as well as he. But he was very careful of her, and the moment she looked cold he took her ash.o.r.e.

They came back to the hotel very hungry; and Tinker led the way through the pa.s.sages at the back of the hall, down into the hotel kitchen, where he was welcomed with affectionate joy by the kitchen staff. The end of a long table had been laid with the finest napery and plate of the hotel; they sat down at it, and were forthwith served with an exquisitely cooked dish of fresh mullet, wonderful hot cakes, and steaming cups of fragrant _cafe au lait_. As he breakfasted, Tinker conversed with the chattering staff with a cheerful kindliness and a thorough knowledge of all their private concerns, keeping Elsie informed of the matters under discussion by such phrases as "It's Adolphe's wife; she beats him;" or, "Lucie has consulted a fortune-teller, who says she is going to marry a millionaire;" or, "Jean's eldest daughter has just made her first communion; they say she looked like a pretty little angel." But he did not tell her of the chaffing congratulations heaped on him on the prospect of his settling down with his beautiful blonde demoiselle. He accepted them with a smile of angelic indulgence.

When they had done they went upstairs; and, on the way, Tinker said, "I must have a shot at that hair of yours; it--it really gets on my nerves."

"It's no use," said Elsie with her ready flush. "I brush it as well as I can; but I can't do it very well, there's such a lot of it."

"Well, I'll do what I can," said Tinker, and he measured with thoughtful eye the silken ma.s.s, tangled and matted by the sea-water.

He led the way into his room, and set her in a chair, took off his coat, turned up his sleeves, took his hair brushes, and began upon it.

It was his first essay as coiffeur, but his natural and trained deftness stood him in good stead. He kept a watchful eye on her face in the gla.s.s, and whenever it puckered, brushed more gently; but, at times, in his absorption in his task, he so far forgot himself as to hiss like a groom cleaning a horse. In the middle of it Sir Tancred came in, and it was significant that he saw Tinker's occupation without a smile, made no joke upon it, but seemed to take it as the most natural thing in the world that his son should be discharging a function of the lady's maid. He greeted the children gravely, sat down, and watched the brushing with a respectful attention. Now and again he asked Elsie a question, which seemed too idle to be impertinent, but her answers told him all he wished to know; and presently he felt, with Tinker, that her uncle was a gentleman in great need of kicking.

[Ill.u.s.tration: It was his first essay as coiffeur.]

At last Tinker had finished; Elsie rose with a luxurious sigh, and he looked at his work with fond pride. It was very beautiful, fine hair; and its sheen of changing light well repaid him for his trouble. Sir Tancred proposed that they should stroll down to the Casino, and find her uncle. Lord Crosland joined them in the hall and went with them.

When they came to the Casino, they found a little crowd already gathered about its doors, waiting for them to open.

But Richard Brand was not in it, and at once Elsie's face grew anxious.

As soon as the doors opened, Sir Tancred went in to ask if her uncle has made any inquiries about Elsie, or left word where she might find him. In ten minutes he came out again and said, "No; he has made no inquiries. Suppose you stroll with Elsie along towards the Condamine, Crosland; that is the way he would come. Tinker and I will wait here."

Lord Crosland looked at his face, said, "Come along, missie," and strolled off with the anxious child.

When they were out of hearing, Sir Tancred said, "I'm afraid the child is in a bad mess. This disgusting uncle of hers lost every penny at roulette last night; and the authorities, with their usual kindness, took his ticket to London, and put him in the train with twenty-five francs in his pocket."

"What a cad!" said Tinker shortly.

"Well, she is on our hands, and we must look after her till we can make arrangements--deposit her in a home or something."

Tinker said nothing for a while; he seemed plunged in profound thought.

He kicked a little stone ten yards away; then raised his eyes to his father's face and said, in the firm voice of one whose mind is made up, "I should like to adopt her."

"Adopt her?" said Sir Tancred with some surprise.

"Yes; I should like to, very much."

"Well, thanks to your industry in the matter of flying-machines and stolen children, you have a nice little income, so we needn't consider the question of expense. You can afford it. But in what capacity would you adopt her--as father, uncle, guardian, or what? The formalities must be observed."

"I think as a brother," said Tinker.

Sir Tancred thought a while, then he said, "You will find it a great responsibility."

"Yes; but I don't mind. I--I like her, don't you know!"