"Your thoughts were in your eyes; gentle thoughts. It looks as if you were not disillusioned yet!"

"I'm not," said Flora, firmly. "For all that, I don't know if I like you when you're cynical."

"It's a relapse, or perhaps a reaction. Living up to your standard is a bit of a strain now and then."

"Would you sooner I lowered the standard?"

"Not at all," said Wyndham, with a twinkle. "Keep it as high as you can for yourself, so long as you are willing to make some allowances for me."

"That's a man's point of view," Flora remarked. "However, on the whole, you're very good. I really don't get many jars."

She studied him and mused. Harry was all, or very nearly all, she had thought, and she was happy. Sometimes, perhaps, she wished he would give her a little more of his confidence, about the office for example. The control of the extending business was not easy; she saw he had cares he did not talk about. He was a handsome man and she approved the fastidious neatness of his white yachting clothes, but he looked fine-drawn. Flora rather liked this half-ascetic look; Harry had no gross pa.s.sions to draw him away from her, although she sometimes feared she had a rival in his ambition. He was ambitious and did not tell her much about his plans.

She looked about. Near the point, a little varnished boat shone in the strong light. Bob had taken Mabel for a row in the dinghy.

"I'm sorry for them," she remarked.

"Sorry for whom?" said Wyndham, and turned his head. "Oh, yes; it's hard for Bob! Mabel, no doubt, gets some satisfaction from feeling she's doing what she ought. I, myself, don't know if she ought or not, but this doesn't matter so long as Bob's persuaded. Well, I suppose she's worth waiting for and Bob is patient."

"You are not patient," Flora rejoined. "You refused to wait."

Wyndham gave her a twinkling smile. "No; I hadn't Bob's advantages. I seized my chance, and made a plunge. So, I think, did you!"

"After all, I wasn't very rash. I knew you better than my friends; but I'll own to feeling proud because they're all satisfied. You were not very long persuading them."

"It cost me something," said Wyndham quietly. "However, we'll let it go.

I mean to have a lazy day and brace up for our climbing trip in the morning. I sent a message that we would need a car."

Flora nodded and glanced at a peak that rose behind the hills across the sparkling strait. She was a mountaineer and sometimes wondered whether she liked best the high rocks or the sea. Then she turned and noted a long plume of smoke that rolled across the woods.

"The early boat from town," she said.

A steamer swung round the point and headed for the yacht, piling the oily water in a wave at her bows. The thud of her paddles nearly drowned the music of the band on board, and confused echoes rang among the trees. A group of pa.s.sengers forward sang l.u.s.tily and a row leaned against the rail.

"She'll pa.s.s pretty close," said Wyndham. "I wonder whether anybody we know is on board."

Flora picked up the gla.s.ses and Wyndham, resting on his elbow, turned his head. The steamer drove on, a feather of foam shooting up her stem, and Wyndham languidly studied the faces of the pa.s.sengers. Then, when she was level with the yacht, he moved abruptly, for a short, thin man with a yellow face sat on a bench, looking at _Red Rose_.

"Do you see somebody? Shall I give you the gla.s.ses?" Flora asked.

"No," said Wyndham, sharply. "Hold fast! Look out for her wash!"

Flora seized the coaming and the white wave from the steamer's paddles lifted the yacht. _Red Rose_ plunged violently and when she steadied, the pa.s.senger boat was slowing near the pier. Flora put down the gla.s.ses and turned to Wyndham. She had seen the little man on the bench and imagined Harry was studying him. The fellow looked like a foreigner and she did not like his face. Yet it was strange his being on board the steamer had annoyed Harry. She thought it had annoyed him, although the need to warn her about the wash perhaps accounted for the sharpness of his voice.

"I saw all I wanted," Wyndham resumed, with a touch of grimness. "I thought you might drop the gla.s.ses when the wave struck us. If I wasn't lazy, I'd send a complaint to the office about their driving their boats full speed across a yacht anchorage. Has the splash hurt your dress?"

Flora looked down and shook the sparkling drops from the thin material.

"This stuff won't spoil. A dress that will spoil is no use for yachting; I've been to sea before."

Soon afterwards the others returned. They had promised to lunch with Chisholm at the hotel where Flora and Mabel had a room, but by and by Wyndham remarked:

"I feel rather dull and think I won't go ash.o.r.e. Perhaps you had better stay, Bob, and we'll fit the new rigging screws. The others look as if the hooks might draw in a hard breeze."

"Stay if you like," said Flora. "You have come for a holiday. Are you sure you feel equal to our climb in the morning?"

Wyndham hesitated. "I'd hate to disappoint you, but I am lazy. I found the scramble up the big gully hard enough the last time I went along the ridge, and I hadn't been to Africa then. After close work in an office, three thousand feet and some awkward rock climbing is a stiff pull."

Flora looked at the others. Harry was tired and rather slack, and she wanted to indulge him. It was something of a relief when Marston played up.

"We came for a cruise, not to climb hills," he said. "Let's stop and go fishing in the dinghy."

"There aren't many fish and digging bait's a bother," Wyndham replied.

"I've a better plan. The wind will turn east at sunset and there is a moon. Suppose we run down the coast to Carmeltown and see the Irish boats finish their cross-channel race?"

The others agreed and in the evening _Red Rose_ left the anchorage. It was getting dark when they hoisted sail, but Marston, who occupied with the halyards, thought he heard a distant shout. Looking round, he saw a dinghy near the point.

"Is that somebody hailing us?" he asked.

"I don't think so," said Wyndham. "There are other boats about. But be careful; you've got the topsail yard foul of the lift."

Marston pulled the yard clear, and dropping down the channel through the sands, they stole out to sea. A light east wind blew behind them, the water sparkled as the moon rose, and shadowy woods and dark hills opened out and faded on their port side. The night was warm, the sea ran in long undulations, wrinkled by the breeze. In the distance one heard surf break upon the reefs, and now and then a steamer with throbbing engines went by. Wyndham lounged at the tiller, Marston and Mabel sat under the b.o.o.by hatch and talked quietly, while Flora, in the c.o.c.kpit sang a song.

_Red Rose_, lurching gently with all sail set, headed for the west.

"Harry's plan is good," Flora remarked when she finished her song.

"There are two grand things, the sea and the mountains; but, on a night like this, I like the sea best."

"Then you ought to be happy and I hope you are," rejoined Mabel. "The trouble about dividing your affection between two objects is, when you get one you feel you want the other."

"That is so now and then," Flora agreed. "When you can't have both, you are forced to choose and choosing's generally hard."

"You let Harry choose for you. Perhaps it's a good plan, but I don't know if I'll use it much with Bob."

Flora laughed and thought Mabel's remark was justified. It looked as if Harry had meant to leave the strait, although he had said nothing about this until the pa.s.senger boat arrived. Anyhow, it did not matter. She was glad to indulge him and it was a splendid night for a sail. Flora was happy and began to sing again.

The wind freshened as they crossed a rock-fringed bay where a famous emigrant ship went down. Sparkling ripples flecked the swell, which presently began to roll in short angry waves. The rigging hummed, a foaming wake ran astern, and a white ridge stood up about _Red Rose_'s bows. After a time, Marston and the paid hand set a smaller jib and hauled down the topsail, and when they had finished Bob stood on deck looking about. The sea ahead was white and _Red Rose_ rolled hard when the rising combers picked her up. Astern, the dinghy sheered about and lifted half her length out of the water when she felt the strain on the rope. Once or twice she surged forward on a wave, as if she were going to leap on board. Marston had seen enough and jumped into the c.o.c.kpit.

"It's freshening up," he said. "The tide will be running strong round Carmel when we get there and the sea breaks awkwardly in the race. If you're going on, we'll heave down a reef and pull the dinghy on deck."

Wyndham looked at his watch. "I don't know if I'm going on or not. The flood's running now and there are two nasty races before we reach Carmel. Suppose we make for Porth Gwynedd? I don't see much use in getting wet."

"The Porth's an awkward harbor to enter in the dark," Marston remarked thoughtfully.

"I know the way," said Wyndham. "Mrs. Evans will give the girls a room; we have got her up late at night before. Ask them what they think?"

Flora and Mabel agreed, Wyndham changed his course, and the dark hills they were following got nearer. By and by Marston hauled down the staysail and stood on the deck forward, studying the forbidding coast Wyndham steered for.

A narrow strip of gloom, piercing the hills, indicated a valley, and at its end a dim red light blinked. One could see no entrance. Shadowy rocks dropped to the water, and a line of foam marked the course of the tide across a reef. A white belt of surf glimmered without a break at the foot of the cliffs.