"She ought never to have spoken to him again!" I hear some one say.
Ah, Madam, very true. But do you remember any authentic case of a woman who failed to forgive the man whose error or offense had for its excuse the irresistible attraction of her own charms?
They were coming back now, still talking.
"You dropped out of sight, like a partridge into a thicket," said he. "Some of them said you had gone back to--to--"
"Well, yes," he conceded; "and others said you had left Chicago for New York; and some, even Paris."
"I fail to see the warrant," said Josie, as they approached the limit of earshot, "for any of the people at Madame Lamoreux's giving themselves the trouble to investigate."
"So far as that is concerned," said he, "I should think that I--" and his voice quite lost intelligibility.
My cigar had gone out, and the cessation of the music ought to have apprised me of the breaking up of the dance, and still I lay looking at the sky and filled with my thoughts.
"Here he is," said Alice, "asleep in the hammock! For shame, Albert! This would not have occurred, once!"
"I am free to admit that," said I, "but why am I now disturbed?"
"We're going on a cruise in the gondola," said Antonia, "and Mr. Elkins says you are lieutenant, and we can't sail without you. Come, it's perfectly beautiful out there."
"We're going to the head of navigation and back," said Jim, "and then our revels will be ended. --Hang it!" to me, "they left the skull and crossbones off all the flags!"
Mr. Barr-Smith at once engaged the engineer in conversation, and seemed worming from him all his knowledge of the construction of the boat. The rest of us lounged on cushions and seats. We threaded our way up the new pond, winding between clumps of trees, now in broad moonlight, now in deepest shade. The shower had swept over to the northeast, just one dark flounce of its skirt reaching to the zenith. A cool breeze suddenly sprang up from the west, stirred by the suction of the receding storm, and a roar came from the trees on the hilltops.
"Better run for port," said Jim; "I'd hate to have Mr. Barr-Smith suffer shipwreck where the charts don't show any water!"
As we ran down the open way, the remark seemed less and less of a joke. The gale poured over the hills, and struck the boat like the buffet of a great hand. She heeled over alarmingly, bumped upon a submerged stump, righted, heeled again, this time shipping a little sea, and then the sharp end of a hidden oak-limb thrust up through the bottom, and ripped its way out again, leaving us afloat in the deepest part of the lake, with a spouting fountain in the middle of the vessel, and the chopping waves breaking over the gunwale. All at once, I noticed Cecil Barr-Smith, with his coat off, standing near Antonia, who sat as cool as if she had been out on some quiet road driving her pacers. The boat sank lower in the water, and I had no doubt that she was sinking. Antonia rose, and stretched her hands towards Jim. I do not see how he could avoid seeing this; but he did, and, as if abandoning her to her fate, he leaped to Josie's side. Cornish had seized _her_ by the arm, and seemed about to devote himself to her safety, when Jim, without a word, lifted her in his arms, and leaped lightly upon the forward deck, the highest and driest place on the sinking craft. Then, as everything pointed to a speedy baptism in the lake for all of us, we saw that the very speed of the wind had saved us, and felt the gondola bump broadside upon the dam. Jim sprang to the abutment with Josie, and Cecil Barr-Smith half carried and half led Antonia to the shore. Alice and I sat calmly on the windward rail; and Barr-Smith, laughing with delight, helped us across, one at a time, to the masonry.