Part 4 (1/2)

”I'm glad you think so,” she flung back over her shoulder, ”but I am not so sure. I really think that it would be better for Tidda if she were left more to her own devices--she has plenty--but I just can't do it.”

We had got down to the sh.o.r.e, and Elizabeth turned to me.

”I am always saying things,” she said, ”that I don't mean. It is one of the results of too much freedom.”

”So am I,” I replied, ”and this is one of them.”

And Elizabeth looked at me queerly, and laughed suddenly, and looked away. I wondered if she understood. I wondered further about her. A reputation for unconsidered speech is the best of protections for secrets. I did not believe that she was generally guilty of unconsidered speech. And we had come to the clam beds, but the bank was too wet to sit on, and we stood around until I found some stones that were dry, and we sat on the stones in a row, like three crows. Eve said nothing to Tidda and the Sands girl, but watched them as they pulled off their stockings. And, Tidda having trouble with hers, as usual, Eve got up from her stone and helped her.

While Eve was busy with stockings, I spoke.

”Miss Radnor,” I said, ”what--”

She was gazing fixedly at the water over the clam beds--there was about a foot of it--and her thoughts were far away. But at the sound of her name she started almost imperceptibly, and looked at me, and smiled.

”My name is Elizabeth,” she said, interrupting. ”Perhaps you didn't know it. Yes, that is a hint.”

Her eyes were like deep pools under a summer sun, and all sorts of colors played over them, flas.h.i.+ng and sparkling gently and merrily, so that there was no telling what depths lay beneath, or what in the depths--except humor. They seemed to be looking always for a joke, and usually finding one too good to tell. What else they were looking for I did not know, but there was something.

”Thank you,” I replied. ”I take hints on occasion. And my name is Adam. That is a hint too. If you can reconcile the use of it with the respect due to age,--to a man too old to fight,--I shall be glad. It is a very old name and quite respectable.”

She nodded and laughed. ”Thank you, Adam. But you were going to ask me something.”

”I was going to ask you, Elizabeth, if you know what has become of Bobby. We haven't seen him for a long time.”

The pools flashed and sparkled once more. ”Why do you ask me? Am I Bobby's keeper?”

”You seemed to be. And you transferred him, and we haven't seen him since.”

”Captain Fergus transferred him. I have no doubt that he will turn up in time.”

Eve had finished with the stockings, and she came and sat down again upon her stone, while the children splashed noisily into that foot of water. Tidda had a stout stick, and she began immediately to poke about with it.

”Who will turn up in time?” asked Eve. ”What are you talking about?”

”Bobby,” I answered. ”I wish I could share Elizabeth's faith. I must notify Bobby.”

”I think you will have an opportunity,” said Elizabeth, ”if you have a little patience.”

”I will notify you meanwhile, Elizabeth. The Clam Beds Protective Company meets here next Sat.u.r.day at nine o'clock. In uniform, with arms and equipment. If you lack anything, speak to Eve. I'm sorry to make it quite so early, but the tide, you know--and Eve has set the day.”

”I'm going to have a birthday party for Jack Ogilvie, Elizabeth. It's a little late, but I didn't know in time, and Jimmy and Bobby and Ogilvie can come then, I think. I wish you'd tell me something more about him.”

”About Jack? What shall I tell you? I've known him always, since he was knee-high to a gra.s.shopper. He's as good as there is made. His family are nice people, with a very moderate income, just about enough to keep them going, and not enough to put him through college, although they would be willing to sacrifice a good deal to do it. But Jack prefers to put himself through, and he was doing it very well until he went into the navy. He has been preparing for that for a year or more. He doesn't make nearly as much in the navy, even as an ensign--but I don't know about that. I guess he does. An ensign's pay is pretty good for a boy of twenty-one.”

”And his father,” Eve pursued; ”what does he do? Is he in some great office, grinding away for Jack?”

Elizabeth smiled again. ”No. He is a country doctor, and a very good one. I don't know what the town would do without him. But a country doctor, you know, can't make much.”

”I'm glad,” said Eve.

”Why? Because he can't make much?”

Eve laughed. ”Glad that he's a doctor. I wish I could manage to swell his income.”

Tidda and the Sands girl had been pursuing the elusive clam with some success. Tidda's hands were full of clams which she had dug out with the stick and her hands, burrowing into the sand and mud under the water, and her skirt was wet, and her sleeves were wet nearly to the shoulder. I called Eve's attention to that fact as she splashed out, ran to the bank, and deposited her clams in an old rusty tin can with jagged edges, which she drew from some hiding place evidently in familiar use. She must have done that same thing many times, and this was the first that we knew of it.

Eve glanced up and smiled.

”Never mind, Adam. Let them have their fun. I'll put dry clothes on her when we get home.” Then she turned again to Elizabeth. ”And Olivia,” she said, ”is--”

”I think,” said Elizabeth, interrupting, ”that Olivia is coming now.”

As she spoke there was a slight rustling in the path through the greenery, and Olivia emerged upon the edge of the bank. She was stepping lightly, diffident and hesitating, a hand over her heart. It was like a young doe coming out of the woods.

”Oh!” she said. ”I beg your pardon.”

And Elizabeth laughed silently, mostly with her eyes; but Eve rose and went to meet Olivia.

”What's the joke, Elizabeth?” I asked in her ear. ”Tell me, won't you?”

She turned merry eyes to mine. ”Olivia's the joke,” she said. ”I can't explain, but if you knew her as well as I do--”

She did not finish, for Eve was speaking.

”We were just thinking of you, Olivia.”

”How very nice of you! May I come?”

She advanced--still with that diffident and hesitating step like a doe's. I got up and offered her my stone.

Olivia looked startled; but Olivia had a way of looking startled, so it seemed.

”Oh,” she protested, ”oh, I don't want to take your seat.”

”Don't feel that you are putting me to an inconvenience,” I said. ”That stone is harder than it was. I am sorry that we can offer you nothing better than a stone, but it is all we have.”

And Olivia laughed politely, and took my stone, and looked about.

”Clams!” she cried. ”I have dug clams.”

”Many?” I asked.

Olivia looked up at me and laughed again. ”Oh, a good many,” she replied, ”in all sorts of places; and baked them too.”

”A recruit for our company,” I said, looking at Elizabeth and Eve. ”Will you join the company?” I asked Olivia.