The Lady of the Mount Part 9

it was right upon me!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "But the tide--it was right upon me!"]

She looked again toward the pockets into which his hands were thrust; observed his s.h.i.+rt, torn at the shoulder; then arose unsteadily. "I know--it was not so easy!" she said. "It was brave of you--"

"Your Ladys.h.i.+p is no coward!" he interrupted, a sparkle in his eyes.

"When you turned the horse toward the tide, I was watching; hoping you would dare, and you did!"

About to reply, she became once more aware she was still very dizzy from the fall on the sand; the shapely figure swayed and she put out her hand with a gesture of helplessness. At the same time, the man reached forward quickly and caught her. A moment was she conscious of a firm grasp; a dark, anxious gaze bent upon her; then, slid gently back to the stone seat.

A brief interval, and gradually she began to see again more distinctly--a man's face, not far from hers; a face that drew back as her own look cleared. At a respectful distance he now stood, his bearing at once erect and buoyant, and more curiously she regarded him.

A distinct type, here pride and intelligence stamped themselves strongly on the dark, handsome features; courage and daring were written on the bold, self-reliant brow. And with this realization of something distinctive, compelling, in his personality, came another.

"I have seen you--spoken with you before! On the beach--the night of the dance!"

The young man turned. "Your Ladys.h.i.+p so far honored me--as to dance with me!" he said, in his eyes a touch of that brightness that had caused her to regard him imperiously, as he had swung her to the measure of the music, on the occasion in question.

"Started to!" She corrected him, straightening suddenly at the recollection of that evening, when humility and modesty were virtues conspicuously wanting in his demeanor.

"Your Ladys.h.i.+p is right," he said quietly. "An alarm from the Mount interrupted."

She glanced at him quickly. His eyes met hers with a look of unconcern.

"Are you--a fisherman?" she asked abruptly.

"On occasions."

"And when you are not one--what are you then?"

"At times--a hunter."

"Ah!" Her eye lingered on something bright on the ledge beneath the window. "And that is the reason you have--pistols?"

"Exactly, my Lady!"

She continued to regard the weapons, of finest workmans.h.i.+p, inlaid with a metal that gleamed dully, like gold, in the light from the fire. His glance followed hers; she was about to speak, when quickly he interrupted.

"Has your Ladys.h.i.+p thought how she is going to get back to the Mount?"

My lady's questioning, along the line of personal inquiry, ceased; the Governor's daughter looked a little blank. "No--that is, haven't you a boat?"

"Not here."

"Then you walked over?"

He neither affirmed, nor denied.

"And the tide will not be out for hours!" Her look showed consternation; she glanced toward the opening in the wall. "Isn't it becoming dark now?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Of course, it was almost sundown when-- But I must return at once!

Don't you understand?"

He regarded her silently; the beautiful, impatient eyes; the slim, white fingers that tapped restlessly, one against another. "I will do what I can!" he said at last slowly.

"But what?" she demanded. "What can you do?"

He did not answer; my lady made a gesture.

"How ridiculous! A prisoner on an island!"

"There may be a way," he began.

"My horse?" she said quickly. "What became of him?"

"He was swept away by the tide!"

Into the proud eyes came a softer light--of regret, pain.

"Your Ladys.h.i.+p should remember it might have been worse," he added, in tones intended to rea.s.sure her. "After all, it was only a horse--"

"Only a horse!" she exclaimed indignantly. "But, I suppose you can't understand--caring for a horse!"

"I can understand caring for a s.h.i.+p!" he answered quickly, a flash of amus.e.m.e.nt, hardly concealed, in his bold, dark eyes.

"A s.h.i.+p!" scornfully; "dead wood and iron."

"Live wood and iron! Beautiful as--" The simile failed him; he looked at my lady. "Something to be depended on, with a hand to the wheel, and an eye keen for mad dancings and curvetings."

"I might appreciate them better," she interrupted dryly, with delicate brows uplifted, "an they brought me nearer to the Mount. That, and not idle opinions," in accents that conveyed surprise at the temerity of one in his position to express them, "is of most moment!"

He accepted the reproof with a readiness that further surprised her.

"Your Ladys.h.i.+p is right," he said. "I will see what may be done. The storm has pa.s.sed. There is yet daylight, and"--an expression, almost preoccupied, came to his features--"a boat may be sighted."

"To be sure!" At the prospect, all other considerations pa.s.sed from my lady's mind. "A boat may be sighted! Why did you not think of it before? Come! Too much time has already been lost." And she rose.

"One moment!" His voice was quiet; respectful; although, she fancied, constrained. "I had better go alone. The way to the cliff is rough, and--"

"I shall not mind that!"

"Besides, your clothes--"

"Are dry!"

"No!" She flushed at the abrupt contradiction. "I mean, I don't see how they could be!" he went on hurriedly, "and," his tone a.s.sumed a certain obduracy, "I a.s.sure your Ladys.h.i.+p, it will be best."

"Best?" She looked at him more sharply. "Is that your only reason?"