"Am I to go alone, Peggy?" he asked gently. "I have been an independent fellow all my life, and thought I needed no one but myself, but that is all altered since I met you! I should get along badly now without you to help me, and share my lot!"

"Oh, Hector, no! Don't say so. It's all a mistake. How could I help you? I have been a hindrance, not a help. It was owing to my carelessness that you hurt yourself, and it was only your generosity which made light of it. Father says it is a serious thing for a soldier to sprain his ankle, for it is never so strong again, and may fail him at a critical moment. I know quite well how much harm I have done you."

"Do you, Peggy? I don't agree with you there; but if it is so, is not that all the more reason why you should do me a good turn now? I don't mind your blaming yourself, dear, if it makes you the more inclined to be generous. I have loved you ever since we met, and it would be impossible to part from you now. I need you, Peggy; come to me! Be my wife, and give me the happiness of having you always beside me."

He spoke with a whole-hearted earnestness which brought the tears into Peggy's eyes, but she shook her head none the less firmly.

"I can't! I can't! It would be doing you a worse injury than the first. I should be no help to you, Hector, for I don't care for you in the way you mean, and I could never marry a man unless I loved him with all my heart. It is all a mistake--indeed it is. You only imagine that you care for me because you have seen a great deal of me lately, and I seem part of home and the old life. When you have gone back to India, you will forget all about me, or be glad that I did not take you at your word."

Hector pressed his lips together and gave a strained attempt at a smile.

"I am not a boy, Peggy. I know what I want, but you--you are so young, how can you be sure of yourself yet? I am not going to take 'No' for an answer. I will wait--ask for an extension of leave--come home for you later on. You shall have time, plenty of time, but I will not let you decide at once. You don't know your own mind!"

"Oh, Hector!" Even at that critical moment a gleam of fun twinkled in Peggy's eyes. "Oh, Hector, how can you? No one has ever accused me before of not knowing my own mind. I know it only too well, and I will not let you wait on, to gain nothing but a second disappointment. I should not change, and listen, Hector--it would be a bad thing if I did!

I like you very much--far, far better than I ever believed I could do when we first met, for you seemed so different then, so haughty and self-satisfied, that if you had not been Rob's brother I should have disliked you outright. I see now that I judged you too quickly, but there is still so much difference between us that we should never be happy together. You are a man of the world, and like to live in the world, and conform to its ways, and at heart I am nothing but a Bohemian. I have no respect for the rules and regulations of Society, and the only feeling they arouse in me is a desperate desire to break through them and shock Mrs Grundy. I am erratic, and careless, and forgetful. I am ashamed of it, and honestly mean to improve, but, oh, poor Hector, how you would suffer if you had to put up with me during the process! You ought to marry a clever woman who would keep your house as you would like it kept, and help you on by her gracious ways, not a madcap girl who has not learned to manage herself, much less other people. Dear Hector, I thank you with all my heart for thinking so kindly of me and paying me such an honour, but, indeed, indeed, it cannot be."

She laid her hand on his as she spoke with a pretty, winsome gesture, and Hector just touched it with his own, and then let it drop. His expression had altered completely while she was speaking, and he had lost his air of a.s.surance. Those few words which had dropped out so unconsciously had convinced him of the hopelessness of his cause more entirely than any argument. "If you had not been Rob's brother." She would have disliked him if he had not been Rob's brother. She could not dislike one who was Rob's brother! Innocent Peggy little suspected the eloquence of that confession, but Hector understood, and read in it the downfall of his hopes. He sat gazing out to sea, while she looked at him with anxious eyes, and for a long time neither spoke a word.

Then--"I could have loved you very dearly, Peggy," he said softly, "very dearly!" The strong chin trembled, and Peggy's heart yearned pitifully over him, but she noticed with relief that he spoke in problematical fashion, as if the love were more a possibility of the future than a present fact. Men of Hector Darcy's type set an exaggerated value on anything which belongs to themselves, the while they unconsciously depreciate what is denied them. Peggy understood that the very fact of her refusal of himself had lessened her attractions in his sight, and the knowledge brought with it nothing but purest satisfaction.

It was a relief to both when the summons to tea relieved them from their painful _tete-a-tete_, but if they flattered themselves that their disturbed looks escaped the notice of their friends, they were quite mistaken. Each member of the party, even to Mellicent herself, was aware that some development of the situation had taken place since lunch, and pondered anxiously as to what it could be. At the one moment it seemed that they must surely be engaged; at the next it was as evident that they were not; and Mellicent composed imaginary interviews the while she demolished cakes and biscuits, in which she heard Peggy's voice murmuring alternate vows of love and friendship.

"He has proposed to her, I'm certain of it!" she told herself, "and oh, how I wish I had been there! I'd simply love to have heard him do it.

I'm glad women don't have to ask men to marry them, it must be so embarra.s.sing to be refused! Now, if Hector Darcy had proposed to me, I should have said 'Yes' out of sheer fright, but Peggy would refuse a prince to-morrow, if she got the chance. I wonder what she said to him!

In books the girl always says, 'I cannot give you my love, but I will always be your friend.' I should be so cross, if she said that to me, that I should want to shake her. How could you be friends with a person who had made you so miserable? ... Now she is smiling at him as pleasantly as ever ... They _must_ be engaged! I'll be bridesmaid again, and get a nice present! I wonder what Rob--"

But at this interesting moment Arthur broke in upon her surmises by calling attention to the current which was sweeping round the island.

"Just look at that water rushing past!" he cried. "We didn't notice anything like that when we rowed across. It was slack tide then, I suppose, and now it is rising. It is running strong! I say, what about that boat? We had better look after her at once."

Rob leapt to his feet before the words were well spoken, and ran hurriedly forward. His companions watched him go, saw him cross the plot of gra.s.s, come out from beneath the shadow of the trees, and stand for a moment silhouetted against the sky; then he stopped short, and threw up his hands with a gesture of dismay. It was indeed a sight to fill the onlooker with dismay, for the tide had reached the spot where the boat was moored, and was drifting her rapidly towards the sh.o.r.e!

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

In another moment all the members of the party had left their seats, and were standing by Rob's side, gazing disconsolately at the lost boat.

Already it had been carried to a considerable distance, and the four men stared into each other's faces in horrified bewilderment.

"This is a nice state of things!"

"What _is_ to be done? How on earth are we to get her back?"

"She has floated so far--too far, I am afraid, for anyone to swim after her."

"I could not last out such a distance. It seems a risky thing to attempt, much too risky. It would not improve matters to have a drowning case into the bargain. I am afraid none of us dare attempt it."

Then there was a pause, while the girls huddled together in a group, watching the men's faces with anxious glances. Arthur stood frowning and biting his moustache, his eyes bright with anger.

"I should like to shoot myself for my stupidity! Why could I not have thought of the tide when we were beaching the boat? It would have been just as easy to drag her up a few yards higher, and then we should have been safe. We should not have been in such a stupid hurry to be finished, but I heard Peggy's voice calling to me and--"

"Oh no, no! Don't say it--don't say it! Arthur, Arthur, don't say it was my fault!" cried Peggy in a voice of such agonised distress as startled the ears of her companions. Arthur's eyes turned from the boat for the first time, and he hastened to her side.

"Why, Peg," he cried, "what's the matter, dear? n.o.body was blaming you; there is not a shadow of blame to be laid on you. The fault is ours for not giving more thought to what we were about. Rob and I ought to know how to beach a boat by this time, seeing the amount of yachting we have done in our day, but, indeed, I don't need to blame any one but myself; I was in charge, and should have taken proper care."

"Well, it is not much use discussing who is to blame; the mischief is done, and we had better set our wits to work to remedy it," cried the little chaperon briskly. "If the boat cannot be brought back, I suppose it means that we must stay here until--"

"Oh, how exciting! It's just like the _Swiss Family Robinson_, and _Leila on the Desert Island_. It's as good as being shipwrecked, without any of the bother," interrupted Mellicent gushingly. "Now, then, we must make a tent, and examine the trees to see which are good to eat, and catch crabs and lobsters, and shoot the birds as they fly past, and Professor Reid shall be the father--the wise, well-informed man who knows what everything is, and how everything should be done--and Esther shall be his wife, and--"

"Mellicent, don't! Don't be silly, dear!" pleaded Esther gently. "It is not a subject for jokes. Seriously, Arthur, how long may we have to stay? Is there any chance of being left here for the night?"

"Not the slightest, I should say. If we don't get back in time for our drive to the station, the flymen will give the alarm, and some one will come over to see what has gone wrong. The worst that may happen is that we shall have to wait until the men get back from their regatta, but you need have no fear of remaining for the night."

"But in any case it will be impossible to catch our train."

"I fear it will. We shall have to make the best of it, and camp at the inn until morning. It's unfortunate, but there are worse troubles at sea. Don't look so miserable, Peggy; I promise you, you shall come to no harm."

"But, mother--Mrs Asplin--what will they think? If we don't get back until late, can we send a telegram to them? It is such a tiny place that the office might be closed."

Arthur's face clouded over, for this was a view of the case which had not occurred to him, and former experiences of country villages did not tend to rea.s.sure him.

"I can't tell you. I will drive to the station and do my best to send a wire from there, but that's all I can say. There is one comfort: they know at home that if we miss the seven o'clock train, we are fixed for the night, so they won't be as anxious as they might otherwise have been. They will probably guess pretty well what has happened."

He spoke with an a.s.sumption of confidence, but Peggy was not to be deceived, and she turned on her heel and walked along the sh.o.r.e, wringing her hands together, and catching her breath in short, gasping sobs.

"Help me! Oh, help me!" she repeated over and over again in a quivering voice, and the cry was addressed to no human ear. She was speaking direct to One who understood her trouble, who knew without being told the reason of her anxiety. Not in vain had Mrs Asplin set an example of a Christian's faith and trust before the girl's quick-seeing eyes.

Peggy had never forgotten her sweet calm on hearing the doctor's verdict, or that other interview in the vicarage garden when she herself had first resolved to join the great army of Christ, and the habit was growing daily stronger to turn to Him for help in all the difficult paths of life. Now in "this moment of intensest anxiety her first impulse was to leave her companions," and go away by herself where she could pour out her heart in a deep, voiceless prayer. She walked round to the further side of the little islet, and seating herself on the same stone which an hour earlier had been the scene of her _tete-a-tete_ with Hector, covered her face with her hands and rocked to and fro in an abandonment of grief. They could not catch the train ... They could send no telegram of rea.s.surement; the night would pa.s.s--the long, long night, and no word would be received of their safety ... For her own father and mother she was not seriously concerned, for they were too old travellers not to allow for unexpected delays, and had moreover prophesied more than once that such a scatter-brained party would be certain to miss their train; but Mrs Asplin with her exaggerated ideas of distance, her terror of the sea, her nervous forebodings of evil--how would she endure those long waiting hours? With her imaginative eye, Peggy saw before her the scene in the drawing-room at the vicarage, as the hour of arrival pa.s.sed by without bringing the return of the travellers; saw the sweet, worn face grow even paler and more strained, the thin hands pressed against the heart. She recalled the pathetic plea which had been made to her, and her own vow of remembrance, and once more the responsibility of the position seemed heavier than she could bear. "Oh, help me!" she murmured once more. "Help me _now_!"

and then a voice spoke to her by name, and she looked up, to see Rob's anxious face looking into hers.

"What is it, Peggy? Something troubles you--something more than you will tell the others. Can you tell me? Can I help you, dear?"

It was the old Rob back again at the first hint of trouble, the old Rob, with no trace of the laboured pleasantness of the past weeks, but with eyes full of faithful friendship. Peggy gave a gasp of relief, and clutched his arm with an eager hand.

"Oh, Rob, yes! I'll tell you! It was a secret, but I must tell some one, I must have some one to consult." And then in hurried accents she confided to him her promise to Mrs Asplin, and the sad reason which made it so necessary to preserve her from alarm. "You see, Rob, it is very serious," she said in conclusion. "It may be a case of life and death, for the doctor said she couldn't bear any strain, and when I promised, knowing so well all that it meant, she will feel she has good reason for fear, if we do not return. All the night long, and both her girls here! Oh, Rob, think what it will be! I feel as if I could not bear it; is if I could run all the way home to comfort her. You always helped me, Rob; you used to find a way for me out of my old childish troubles--do help me now! Think of _some_ way by which we can get back."

Rob looked at her fixedly, and his lips smiled, but his eyes were grave and steady.

"I'll try, Peggy," he said, "I'll do my best. There is nothing I would not do for Mrs Asplin and--_you_! Remember always, whatever happens, that nothing you could have done for me to-day would have made me so happy as asking my help in your trouble." He turned away as he spoke the last word, for the rest of the party were now approaching along the sands, bearing with them a branch of a tree, and the table-cloth which had been used for lunch. It had occurred to Arthur that if a flag could be erected at this particular spot, it might possibly catch the eyes of the fishermen, and attract them to call at the island on their way to the sh.o.r.e, and the idea had been enthusiastically welcomed by his friends. It is astonishing how speedily the charms of a situation are minimised when that situation becomes a necessity instead of a choice.

Before the discovery of the missing boat, the island had seemed all that was charming and romantic; now it seemed suddenly to have become chilly and forsaken, a bank of sand in a waste of water; a prison-house rather than a pleasure-ground. Eunice began to shiver, Mrs Bryce felt certain that the gra.s.s was damp, and the professor was full of anxiety about his _fiancee_. One and all they were thankful for the occupation of erecting the flagstaff, and Arthur had no lack of a.s.sistants in his task. The hole was dug out to the proper depth with the a.s.sistance of such motley tools as the ferrules of sticks and parasols, and the stones which were scattered along the beach, while the cloth was sewed to the stick by the careful Esther, who never by any chance travelled about without a needle full of cotton in her pocket, in company with such other usefuls as sticking-plaster, hair-pins, and camphor pills. The camphor pills were brought forth now, and received a very different welcome from that which would have been afforded them an hour before.

Even Peggy took her turn with the rest, and though the men drew the line at such an exhibition of weakness, they hinted that an additional cup of tea would be acceptable in its stead.

"We have done all we can, so now let us go back to our meal, and be as jolly as we can," said Arthur.

"We will brew a fresh lot of tea and drown our sorrows in the bowl; and if the viands give out, Mellicent can get us bread from the bread-trees and milk from the cocoanuts. Rob can climb up and bring one down, as he is accustomed to savage regions. Where _is_ Rob, by the bye? He was here ten minutes ago."

"He walked over to the other end of the island. I'll go round and give him a call," Hector said; and in default of anything better to do his companions followed in a long, straggling line, but no sign of Rob did they find, only a little heap of clothing on the sh.o.r.e--a pair of boots, a coat, and waistcoat, and a sailor hat, which told their own tale plainly enough, even without the sight of the dark head which could presently be observed bobbing up and down between the waves. Rob had swum off to try to recover the boat, and was risking his life in the effort!--For a moment horror held his friends dumb, then the men broke into a chorus of denunciations.

"He'll never do it! He had no right to go off like that without consulting us--without saying a word to a soul! A foolhardy trick!"