The Opened Shutters Part 41

"Not the slightest." Sylvia looked off again.

"Well, one thing about them I know without paying. You've given it away."

"What's that?"

"They're happy."

"Oh, yes." The girl smiled. How impossible it would be for either of her companions to conceive the cause of her happiness. They need not lack one day that which she had craved for weeks.

As they sailed on, Benny Merritt's stolid eyes glanced from time to time toward Edna. He was guiltily aware that they had pa.s.sed the vicinity of dangerous ledges. The most uncomfortable feature of the situation was that he knew Miss Derwent to be equally aware of it.

"If he was to sail, I don't know what they brought me fer," he reflected gloomily.

He did know that it was necessary for some one to watch the boat and keep her off the rocks while the others were ash.o.r.e, but Benny's elders have been known thus to fence with facts.

Edna caught his roving glance at last and raised her brows questioningly.

"Well," said the boy reluctantly, "I s'pose Mr. Dunham can sail now if he wants to."

The manner in which John received the sullen permission reminded Edna of many a past occasion when her friend had not contented himself with getting what he wanted, but managed to transform reluctance into grace.

"Dangerous coast around the island, is it, Benny?" asked John without moving.

"How do ye mean?"

"Treacherous. Hidden rocks to look out for and all that?"

"Not now. Ye could set a church, steeple an' all, where we are now."

"Do you carry a chart?"

"Yes, fer Miss Edna. I never look at it."

"Is it much trouble to get at it?" John rose as he spoke, and came over to the sailor, taking a place beside him.

"Dunno as it is," vouchsafed Benny. "It's in the locker." With some further hesitation he allowed John to take the sail, and proceeded to rummage for the chart, which he shortly produced.

"Now let's have a look at this," said Dunham, giving back the boat into Benny's hands, but remaining beside him as he spread the chart out on his knees.

Edna could see that he was making comments and asking questions which Benny answered with increasing detail, and she turned to Sylvia with a smile.

"That is so characteristic."

"What?"

"Why, John wants to sail this boat; but he won't do it till he's made Benny fall in love with him. So few men would care, or even notice, whether Benny liked it or not; but John was never content with merely getting his own way."

Sylvia looked at the speaker wistfully. "Do you admire it in him?" she asked.

Edna smiled. "Well, I like it at all events. The result is so agreeable. You'll see him sail this boat home while Benny chaperons him with all the pride of a doting guardian."

"It makes him very fascinating to people, I suppose," said Sylvia.

"Oh, yes. John has all sorts of equipment for that purpose."

"And does he--does he think right?" asked Sylvia timidly.

"I believe he doesn't look at things from our standpoint exactly, but his nature is fine. I used to consider that it was his vanity that demanded approval of everybody he had dealings with, but it seems to me now more like an instinctive desire to create a right atmosphere. Why should he care to win Benny Merritt?"

"Perhaps he wants to borrow his boat," replied Sylvia navely.

Edna's clear laugh rang out.

"I see you won't let me make a hero of him," she said.

"Oh, I will, I will!" exclaimed Sylvia earnestly, coloring. "Only you were speaking of his having his own way, and I wondered if--if he was just as charming to people when he wasn't trying to get it."

"Ah, that would put him on a pedestal, wouldn't it?" replied Edna mischievously. "Let's watch him, and see."

CHAPTER XXIII

A PHILTRE

By the time the party returned that evening Benny was still sitting beside Dunham, but the boy was doing all the talking, while John was sailing. Not even when they reached the ledges did Benny remember his proud privilege as pilot, but allowed his companion to conduct the boat's devious course while he expatiated on some races that had taken place earlier in the season. Had they not gone swimming together before luncheon, and had not Dunham's athletic feats and man-to-man treatment of the island boy completely subjugated him?

The tin pails they had carried were now in the locker, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with berries. The breeze that cooled the party all the way diminished gradually as the sun lowered, and at last the boat crept on slow wings to its mooring like a weary bird to its nest.

"And very lucky we were to get here instead of having to walk the length of the island," said Edna, as she jumped out on the dock. "John, how should you have liked to walk two miles carrying all the berries?"

Dunham shook his head as he bundled their paraphernalia out of the boat. "I should have insisted on sitting down to supper at once. It would have been a case like that of the 'Niger tiger:'--

'They returned from the ride With the berries inside.'"

Edna laughed and added, "'And the smile on the face of'--who? Not one of us would have dared to smile. Even now Sylvia is the only presentable member of the party."

John looked at the younger girl curiously.

"It's a fact, Miss Sylvia, your self-control to-day has been something uncanny. Don't you like blueberries?"

"More than that," returned the girl significantly. "I love them."

"But not to eat," remarked Edna. "Of course Sylvia is too well-bred to love anything to eat. I don't know the fate she designs for those treasures of hers, but I suspect she intends to have them set in a necklace with elaborate pendants."

Sylvia colored, her eyes s.h.i.+ning as she hugged a full pail away from the curious, laughing gaze of her companions. Every berry in it had been selected for its size and darkness; and when the others had begged for one plum from her appetizing collection she had guarded them jealously, and, refusing to allow her pail to be placed with the others on the return trip, had held it in her lap, superior to all jeers and the alarming threats of her ravenous companions.