Prev | Current Page 45 | Next

Woolson, Constance Fenimore, 1840-1894

"Castle Nowhere"

'
They flew on a while longer, and then veered short to the left. 'This
boat sails well,' said Waring, 'and that is your skiff behind I see.
Did you whistle for it that night?'
'I let it out by a long cord while you went after the game bag, and the
shore-end I fastened to a little stake just under the edge of the
water on that long slope of beach. I snatched it up as I ran out, and
kept hauling in until I met it. You fell off that ledge, didn't you? I
calculated on that. You see I had found out all I wanted to know; the
only thing I feared was some plan for settling along that shore, or
exploring it for something. It is my weak side; if you had climbed up
one of those tall trees you might have caught sight of the
castle,--that is, if there was no fog.'
'Will the fog come up now?'
'Hardly; the storm has been too heavy. I suppose you know what day it
is?' continued the old man, peering up at his companion from under his
shaggy eyebrows.
'No; I have lost all reckonings of time and place.'
'Purposely?'
'Yes.'
'You are worse than I am, then; I keep a reckoning, although I do not
show it. To-day is Sunday, but Silver does not know it; all days are
alike to her.


Pages:
33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57