FullReads

But, nevertheless, he got the provision out with care and promptitude.

“Where are you taking all that cake?” said his mother, who came from Ayrshire and wanted a reason for everything. In the north there is no need for reasons. There everything is either a judgment or a dispensation, according to whether it happens to your neighbour or yourself.

“I am no’ coming hame for ony dinner,” said Simeon, who adopted a modified dialect to suit his mother. With his father he spoke English only, in a curious sing-song tone but excellent of accent.

Mrs. Lauder–Simeon’s mother, that is–accepted the explanation without remark, and Simeon passed out of her department.

“Mind ye are no’ to gang intil the boat!” she cried after him; but Simeon was apparently too far away to hear.

He looked cautiously up the side of the Laggan Light to see that his father was still polishing at his morning brasses and reflectors along with Donald. Then he ran very swiftly through a little storehouse, and took down a musket from the wall. A powder-flask and some shot completed his outfit; and with a prayer that his father might not see him, Simeon sped to the trysting-stone. As it happened, his father was oblivious and the pilfered gun unseen.

Anna’s experience had been quite different. Her procedure was much simpler. She found her father sitting in his office, constructed of rough boards. He frowned continuously at plans of dovetailed stones, and rubbed his head at the side till he was rapidly rubbing it bare.

Anna came in and looked about her.

“Give me the key of the boat,” she said without preface. She used from habit, even to her father, the imperative mood affirmative.

Mr. Warburton looked up, smoothed his brow, and began to ask, “What are you going to do–?” But in the midst of his question he thought better of it, acknowledging its uselessness; and, reaching into a little press by his side, he took down a key and handed it to Anna without comment. Anna said only, “Thank you, father.” For we should be polite to our parents when they do as we wish them.

She stood a moment looking back at the bowed figure, which, upon her departure, had resumed the perplexed frown as though it had been a mask. Then she walked briskly down to the boathouse.

Upon the eastern side of Suliscanna there is a beach. It is a rough beach, but landing is just possible. There are cunning little spits of sand in the angles of the stone reaches, and by good steering between the boulders it is just possible to make boat’s-way ashore.

“Row!” said Anna, after they had pushed the boat off, and began to feel the hoist of the swell. “I will steer.”

Simeon obediently took the oars and fell to it. So close in did Anna steer to one point, that, raising her hand, she pulled a few heads of pale sea-pink from a dry cleft as they drew past into the open water and began to climb green and hissing mountains.

Then Anna opened her plans to Simeon.

“Listen!” she said. “I have been reading in a book of my father’s about this place, and there was a strange great bird once on Suliscanna. It has been lost for years, so the book says; and if we could get it, it would be worth a hundred pounds. We are going to seek it.”

“That is nonsense,” said Simeon, “for you can get a goose here for sixpence, and there is no bird so big that it would be worth the half of a hundred pounds.”

“Goose yourself, boy,” said Anna tauntingly. “I did not mean to eat, great stupid thing!”

“What did you mean, then?” returned Simeon.

“You island boy, I mean to put in wise folks’ museums–where they put all sorts of strange things. I have seen one in London.”

“Seen a bird worth a hundred pounds?” Simeon was not taking Anna’s statements on trust any more.