CHAPTER XVI. AN EXPECTED SURPRISE.
The weather clerk may have been purposely perplexing during those firstdays of December, for, after having imprisoned Rilla and her grandfatheron Windy Island for two long, inclement weeks, they awakened one morningto find a gleaming blue sky that merged on the far horizon with thedeeper turquoise of the ocean.
A fortnight had passed since she had received the letter from Gene, andyet he had not come. Because of the rains, Rilla and her grandfather hadnot again visited the town. There was oil enough in the tank to lastanother month, nor was there anyone in Tunkett whom they wished to see.
Of course, there had been no mail, for little Sol had sailed close to theisland one day and Rilla, hailing him, had asked him to bring the lettersif any should arrive. She was expecting two, one from Gene and one fromUncle Barney, and indeed her kind Uncle Lem now and then wrote to her orsent a picture postcard of some interesting building or park in the greatcity where he resided ten months out of every year.
But the heart of Rilla was filled with a joyful anticipation on thatfirst sparkling day after the storms. As soon as her tasks indoors werefinished she called to her shaggy playfellow and, donning her crimson tamand sweater-coat, away she raced toward the outer cliff. There she pausedand seemed to be watching for someone or something.
A moment later, her eyes gladdened and she leaned forward eagerly. Aflock of gleaming white-winged seagulls appeared and Muriel, taking fromher pocket a paper bag, opened it and tossed a fragment of bread into theair. Instantly there was a rush of wings and the birds circled andswooped about her, catching the bits of food as they fell. Now and then apiece dropped far down the cliff and two or three birds would divethrough the air, each hoping to be the first to obtain it.
When the bag was empty Muriel turned to find Shags lying some distanceback of her, his head low on his paws, his limpid brown eyes watchingevery move that she made.
Muriel had taught him that he must be very quiet when she was feeding thebirds, but when she tossed the crumpled bag out upon the breeze and stoodwatching it fall into the sea, Shags seemed to know that he need be stillno longer. Leaping to his feet, he joined his mistress and then togetherthey raced along on the top of the cliff to the side of the islandnearest the town. Again the girl paused, this time shading her eyes asshe gazed out over the dancing blue waters.
"Thar's a sail comin', Shagsie, ol' dog," she said, "but that's nothin'onusual. 'Pears like I'm 'spectin' somethin' to happen every day, when itused to be nothin' ever happened, much, that was different. I cal'latethat it's some fisherman late in startin' for the Outer Ledge. SamPeters, like as not. He's powerful shiftless when it comes to gettin'started."
But, nevertheless, as the girl sauntered around the top of the cliff andtoward the light, she glanced often at the sailboat which seemed to bebearing directly toward Windy Island.
At last her expression of hopeful eagerness changed to one of radiantcertainty. "Shagsie," she cried exultantly, "it _is_ little Sol's boat,arter all. I reckon he's fetchin' some mail. Come on, ol' dog. Let's raceto the dock."
The girl and dog ran joyfully along the top of the cliff, but at the topof the steep flight of stairs that led to the beach Rilla paused andlooked intently at the boat, which, ahead of a brisk wind, was scuddinginto port.
"Thar's some-un else in it," she said in a low voice, "and--and, oh-o,Shagsie, it _is_ Gene Beavers. He's come!"
The passenger in little Sol's sailboat was indeed the lad whom Rilla hadexpected. When he landed on the small and mossy dock over which the wavesoften washed he was met by a girl whose beautiful face reminded him ofsunrise, so radiant was the expression shining there, but, after littleSol had been paid and told to return promptly at five, the girl's joy atthe arrival of her friend changed to alarm when she noted how very palehe was.
"Yo' oughtn't to've made the v'yage yet, I reckon," she said. "Yo' lookall tuckered out. Why did Uncle Lem let yo' come so soon? Yo'd ought t'be in bed still, that's whar yo'd ought t' be, Gene Beavers."
"Storm Maiden, stop scolding me! A fine welcome you're giving me. Ithought--I hoped that you might be pleased to see me, and now I'm almostafraid that you're going to set your dog on me." This was said teasingly,but it was answered by a reproachful expression in the clear hazel eyesof the girl.
Then, as Captain Ezra, at that moment, appeared at the top of the steepsteps, the lad went up two at a time, perhaps with some idea of showingMuriel how strong he really was, but he had overestimated his strength,for when the top was reached the captain's strong arms were all that kepthim from falling.
"Boy," the old man said, "what in tarnal creation are yo' cruisin' aroundfor in rough water wi' yer mast broken and yer rudder gone?"
The lad looked up from the bench outside of the light to which thecaptain had led him. "Am I that much of a wreck?" he asked, smilingwhimsically. Then he confessed: "I believe I had overestimated mystrength. Lying there all day I had no way of telling how weak I reallywas. I used to get so tired of doing nothing and I thought if only Icould get back here where the salt air is so exhilarating maybe I'd getstrong sooner, but I'd better be taking the train back tonight, I'mthinking."
Muriel had gone at once to the kitchen and had a roaring fire in thestove and the kettle on to boil when the old man and the lad entered.
How Gene laughed, a little later, when, having been made comfortable in ahigh-backed wooden rocker, which had been drawn close to the fire, his"storm maiden" again handed him a thick cup filled with a steamingbeverage.
"Muriel," he said, "you and I seem destined to have morning teastogether. Do you recall our first one down on the beach when youthreatened to shoot me?"
The girl whirled about and put her finger to her lips; then glancing ather grandfather, whose back was toward them, she said in a low voice:"Don' tell that. I don' know what possessed me that day. I reckon I wasthat angered, bein' as yo' wouldn't take orders."
"I'll mind you from now on forever after, Muriel, good friend," the ladbegan. Then added with sudden seriousness: "I realize from my recentmisadventures that I am not possessed of any too sound a judgment."
A happy day they had, although Gene spent nearly all of it in the rockernear the fire.
As the clock chimed the hour of four, the lad arose as he said: "I oughtto be getting back to town. I would better take the evening train if----"
Captain Ezra gently pushed the lad down into the chair. "Tarnationsakes!" he exclaimed. "Do yo' reckon I'd let a friend of Doctor Lem'sleave this craft with underpinnin's as shaky as yours are? Not by a longsight! Yo' oughtn't to've come, but, bein' as yo're here yo're goin' tostay a spell."
Then the boy confessed. "But Doctor Winslow does not even know that Icame. He was to be gone for a few days and so I--I----"
The old sea captain grunted. "He'll know soon enough. When little Solcomes, give him a message for his ma to wire back to the big city. TellDoctor Lem that yo're goin' to try Rilla's nursin' for a while."
If there was a twinkle in the grey eyes of the old man, there was also aheaviness in his heart.
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