THE sun had been shining brightly for hours the next morning before poor tired Alice awoke. She was just beginning to collect her thoughts and realize where she was, when her cousin, who had been up since early dawn, rushed into the room. “I thought you really must be awake by now," she said. “They’ve had breakfast and gone out ages ago. Yours is all ready! "
“Is it late?” asked Alice, beginning to dress.
“I should think so! most dinner-time. Look at the sun," replied Gwen, opening the window, and letting the sea-breeze steal into the room.
“What a lovely day!" exclaimed Alice; "how blue the sea is! how bright everything seems after hot London. How pretty the sun makes the water look! I hope uncle won't be angry with me for being late; he must think me so lazy when the weather is so fine."
“Angry?" said the other, laughing; "he's never angry, no more is Deane. You need not wear shoes and stockings here," she hastened to add, seeing Alice putting them on; “we won’t mind a bit."
“But I like to," replied Alice; "I should not feel half dressed unless I did."
“How funny!" cried Gwen, in a pitying tone; " I always feel so uncomfortable in them I can't run, jump, or climb nearly so well as I can without them."
“I’ll just thank God for taking care of me all night," said Alice, when she was ready to go down.
Gwen waited in silence until she had finished.
“I’d like to thank Him too," she said, kneeling by the side of the bed, and putting her hands together as she had seen the other do.
“‘Thank You, God, for all the wonderful things You've done. Please go on doing more wonderful things. Tell us where to find You.' Do you think He heard? “she cried, jumping up.
"Yes," said Alice, with a puzzled look on her face; "but you must always say, ' for Christ's sake, Amen,' at the end."
So the girl knelt down again and said it, and then they went down stairs.
She sat on the door-step, mending a hole in her father's net, while Alice had her breakfast. There was a plentiful supply of new milk on the table, bread, butter, and large brown shrimps, which had only been caught that morning.
“How delicious they are!" said Alice, helping herself to another handful; "and how fresh too!"
“They ought to be," laughed Gwen; "I caught them myself, before five this morning."
“What!" cried Alice, in amazement, "do you go shrimping? "
“Yes and fishing too. Only then they comes with me, 'cos it takes two of us to manage the boat, and haul in the nets. Do you like your breakfast?"
“Very much, only it seems so funny to have milk instead of tea."
“I’ve never tasted tea," said Gwen; "we never have any. When father can't take milk he takes his medicine. But I've heard about it. Father's been where it grows."
“Don’t they sell it in the shops here?" asked Alice.
“There is only one shop, and we seldom buy anything there. Deane brings back all we want from Milston Harbor, when he takes his fish to sell there twice a week."
“Do you know many girls in the village?" inquired Alice, after a minute's pause.
“One or two, but I never talk to them much, for father doesn't like it. I'm so glad you've come, and if you'll only tell me all about the things in the Bible, I'll show you how to climb, an' row, an' fish. Father's told me the names of such a number of stars, and I'll show you where the gulls build."
"I'll tell you gladly," said Alice, "but I can't understand how it is that you never heard it all before. Oh how lovely the sea looks!" she exclaimed, coming to the door; "how I wish dear mother were only here," and big tears rolled down her pale cheeks at the remembrance of her recent loss.
“Don’t cry, dear. Come on to the cliffs and into the cornfields," cried the other, not knowing how else to comfort her; "you haven't seen half yet."
“I should like to sit on the beach best," replied Alice; " it looks such a long way to the top of the cliffs, and so steep too! I was afraid every minute I should fall when we came down it yesterday."
“Call that steep?" her friend cried; "you should see the cliffs Deane an' I climb after birds' eggs. Hark! hark! there's father whistling for me. He's on top of the cliff."
Away she flew up the steep path to meet him, jumping and skipping along, while poor lame Alice watched anxiously below, fearing every moment to see her stumble and fall.
When the top was reached, throwing her arms round his neck and kissing him, she said, " Father, where's the present you promised to bring me from London? Is that it?" noticing he held a large parcel in his hand.
“Sure enough," said her father. “I was idiot enough to leave it in the coach yesterday, and so have been over to Milston Harbor to fetch it. What have you and Alice been talking about all the morning, little one?"
Gwen was too absorbed in the parcel to answer. “Whatever can it be?" said she. “It’s hard—it's not a frock or shoes. It's such a funny shape. Give me your knife to cut the string, I can't break it."
“No, no. Wait till after dinner, pretty one. I promised Deane that he should share the fun."
“Bother Deane! I can't wait. Suppose I must, though. I'll go an' get dinner ready now."
Away she bounded at a breakneck pace down the cliffs again. She could hardly eat any dinner, she was so impatient, and hurrying them so.
"Go and fetch Deane," her father suggested at last, much to her satisfaction.
“Had you not better put a hat on?" asked Alice, "you might get a sunstroke, it is so scorchingly hot."
“I only wear them in the winter," she cried, as she ran off. Her quick eye soon spied Deane sitting on the edge of one of the small boats, eating his mid-day meal of bread and cheese by the aid of a large clasp knife. “Come an' see what father's brought me from London!" she cried. “You can finish your dinner afterwards."
Deane laughed good humouredly, and putting it away in the boat followed her back to the cottage, and stood at the door while she eagerly untied the parcel.
A handsome looking-glass peeped from between the folds of soft paper. “O father! it does make me look pretty," she added, as she caught sight of her own face reflected in it.
Evil Deane laughed heartily at this simple remark.
"Deane," said the Captain, when the present had been admired, "I want a word with you this evening, so don't go off."
“Yes, Cap'n. You'll spy me down by the lobster kraals, 'tween nine an' ten."
After the girls were in bed and asleep the Captain lighted his pipe and stepped out into the moonlight, making his way along the sands towards the lobster kraals. He stood in silence until Deane had baited the last one, then said abruptly: "Is all ready for our run to-morrow, Deane?"
“No," said Deane, shortly; " we ain't a-goin' till the day after."
“What’s that for? Anything in the wind?" "Not 'xactly, only I can't abide that little girl you've brought from London."
“What on earth has that got to do with our run?"
"Just this, that I ain't easy in my mind, like. There's no use telling what she may stuff into Gwen's head—she suspects your medicine is brandy. Now I knows, and ye know, mate," he continued in a changed tone of voice, "it's nigh on the girl's seventeenth birthday, an' ye promised that I should marry her, so I thought ye might give her a hint to-morrow. I feels uncomfortable since that pale-face has come, and should be glad of the girl's promise afore we start on this little affair." "There's plenty of time," said the father, sadly; "her birthday's not till November. I'm not so anxious to see her married, I can tell you, man."
“She’ll never 'ear a cross word from my lips, Cap'n, as yer know."
"I don't fear that. I believe she's the only living thing you care for, Deane."
"You're about right there," answered Evil Deane, with a grin, as he lighted his pipe. After he had smoked a while in silence he remarked: " S'pose we take the little one with us, Cap'n, and lose her somewhere on the French coast. No one would be a bit the wiser, an' if we don't get her clear of this place, I'm sure mischief 'll come of it, 'cos I spied Dan's girl speaking to her this afternoon."
A frown settled on the Captain's face, but he replied hastily, " No, no I she's my own sister's child, and I've enough on my conscience without that."
Evil Deane turned on his heel dissatisfied. The Captain walked thoughtfully back, pausing every now and again to watch the bright moonlight as it shone on the calm water. “My own darling, how shall I part with her?" he thought to himself, as he stood for a moment on the doorstep of his cottage, with his face towards the sea, "Yet who would care for her like Deane does? "