'Oh, it's--it's--_I_ know,' stuttered Gerald, flushing deeply.

'It's--I'll put it all right, you needn't come.'

The remainder of the sentence was lost as he hurried upstairs.

'Whatever is he about?' said Marjorie; 'let's go and see.'

Gerald became very red again as he was discovered in the room which he shared with Harry, collecting some small objects from the floor.

You needn't have come,' he said. 'It's--it's only my collection, and they've been escaping----'

'Ha, ha!' laughed Harry; 'it's those snails and things that he has been gathering on the beach, and they've crawled all over the place!'

Gerald stood, flushing to the roots of his hair, and shrinking from the mirth of the others.

His treasures had been trying to make themselves at home in their new quarters. The little crabs and lobsters had scattered in search of water, and the sh.e.l.l-fish had crawled over the floor or attached themselves to the wall, where they waited with tilted sh.e.l.ls for the tide that failed to come.

'Never mind, Gerald,' said Marjorie, as tears began to start in the boy's eyes; 'it's very nice making a collection, and I've got a nice pail with a lid that I'll give you to keep the things in.'

'And now,' said Mrs. Stewart, 'I see the pony cart coming up the drive, with Mrs. MacGregor in it; run and get ready, girls, or we shall be late.'

After about a quarter of an hour's tidying, Marjorie was released from her mother's hands, dressed in a cream serge frock and a large hat, and with her hair brushed out and neatly arranged.

Feeling unlike herself and hardly satisfied with the change, she peeped in the gla.s.s as soon as her mother's back was turned.

Her own reflection caused her to start and colour with surprise.

Blue eyes, bright with suppressed excitement, a wild rose face framed in short fair curls and set off by the light colours of her attire, slender hands and neat ankles--'and that's me,' said Marjorie to herself in bewilderment.

Tricksy came into the room, wearing a white hanging frock with a big floppy white hat.

'Dear me,' said Marjorie to herself, taking another glance in the mirror, after the eyes of the two girls had met in silent approval of one another; 'curious that we've never thought of it before--perhaps it's because we so seldom have bothered to look in the gla.s.s--but it strikes me that we're actually a pair of very pretty girls--with our hair brushed and our faces washed!'

They went downstairs without speaking, and encountered the boys in the hall.

All eyes were attracted to them; then an approving expression came into the boys' faces, and as the girls pa.s.sed they moved somewhat aside to look at them from another point of view.

Despite the anxiety which had brooded over her since morning, Marjorie began to feel her spirits rise.

'Marjorie,' said Tricksy solemnly, as Duncan was driving them to the landing-stage, 'which do you think is the best fun, being a boy or being a girl?'

Marjorie had been lost in thought, but at Tricksy's question her eyes began to dance.

'I think it's best of all to be a tomboy,' she said, 'and then you can be a bit of both!'

When the sailors had shipped their oars, and the boat glided under the side of the great war-vessel, first the ladies, and then the girls were a.s.sisted on deck and greeted by the captain, erect and broad-shouldered, and by the officers, the youngest of whom was Tricksy's friend of the year before. Dr. MacGregor and the laird and Mr. Graham were already on board.

'Hullo, Miss Tricksy, how do you do?' said a voice, and Tricksy looked up to see the Sheriff, who was smiling at her with outstretched hand.

Tricksy looked solemnly up in his face.

'Well, aren't you going to shake hands, Tricksy?' said the Sheriff.

'No,' said Tricksy deliberately.

The Sheriff's expression altered.

'And why not, Miss Tricksy, if I might inquire?' he said.

Tricksy met his grim smile with a solemn stare of disapproval.

'Because you let a great friend of ours be put in prison when he didn't deserve it,' she replied. 'That was why I sent back the big box of chocolates that you sent me by post. Mother did not know that it had come. We can't be friends until you've owned yourself in the wrong.

We've all joined a Compact to get our friend back again and to show that it wasn't he who did it. I've got it with me,' and Tricksy began to fumble in her pocket.

The smile was beginning to twitch at the corners of the Sheriff's lips again when he was addressed by one of the officers. The little scene had pa.s.sed un.o.bserved by all save Marjorie, as the captain suggested that, the weather being fine and time at their disposal, the _Heroic_ should take their visitors on a tour round Inchkerra.

'Certainly, certainly,' said the Sheriff at haphazard, and Tricksy slipped away.

'In the meanwhile I think lunch is ready,' said Captain Redwood, and each of the officers took a lady downstairs, Tricksy falling to the share of the youngest.

'Dear me, this isn't half so exciting as I expected,' said Marjorie to herself. 'What stupid grown-up things they are talking about; I am sure they wouldn't be interested if I were to tell them about the things we do, riding bare-backed ponies, and about the Craft and the Den, and finding the smugglers; and I have nothing else to talk to them about. They haven't taken much notice of Tricksy and me after all; they weren't a bit surprised when they saw us; we're pretty, but not any prettier than lots of other girls, and it isn't enough to make a fuss about.'

She wondered what Tricksy was finding to say to Lieutenant Jones, the young officer by whose side she was sitting, and who appeared to be greatly entertained by the little girl.

After lunch they returned on deck to see a boat bring the boys on board; then the screw was set in motion and the water began to churn itself into foam round the vessel's sides.

'It isn't bad,' said Marjorie to herself as the _Heroic_ ploughed her way past the well-known sh.o.r.es, 'but it's a bother not having anything to do. I've seen all this before, and it isn't as though we were rowing for all we were worth in the old _Mermaid_--I mean, the _Craft_--and in danger of getting into currents and being swept away to I don't know where. Now I have no doubt the boys are having no end of a good time, going into the engine-room and getting themselves dirty, and climbing all over the place, and listening to the sailors' yarns.

Once I get out of this, catch me bother any more about looking nice, and being grown-up, and all the rest of it--it will be time enough when I'm so old that I get no fun out of being a tomboy any more.'

Lieutenant Jones left Tricksy and came to sit beside Marjorie for a turn.

'I suppose you are quite accustomed to sailing as you live in an island, Miss MacGregor?' he said.

'Yes,' replied Marjorie, 'we are all very fond of boating, the boys and Tricksy and I,' and after talking for a little while she began to think that a grown-up man was nearly as good company as a boy once you got him upon the right subject.

'Now,' said the Sheriff, coming up with his spy-gla.s.s, 'we are coming near the finest bit of rock scenery on the island; one of the finest, in my opinion, on this part of the West Coast.'

The _Heroic_ was just rounding the point which concealed the Smugglers'

Caves from view.

'The Corrachin Crags,' continued the Sheriff; 'the caves are remarkably fine; interesting, too, as in former times they are said to have been used for smuggling purposes, and as hiding-places for pirates and other lawless characters----'

'Now!' burst from the lips of the gazers as the lofty cliffs came in view, with the waves tumbling at their base.

Captain Redwood had issued orders to slacken speed, and as the vessel steamed slowly past, a fine view was obtained of bold ma.s.ses of rock and the black openings to the caves, with the startled birds rising in clouds and screaming.

'If all stories are true, the caves are still sometimes put to their old uses,' observed Mrs. MacGregor as the _Heroic's_ engines throbbed through the smooth swell of the water; 'for all we know, the most thrilling adventures may be taking place there.'

'A score of men might lie in hiding without discovering one another's presence,' said the laird; 'the caves form a regular network, and stretch a long way underground. The entire headland is said to be honeycombed with them----'