Part 11 (1/2)
Miss Iris had meant her playful retort as a mere light-hearted quibble.
It annoyed her, a young person of much consequence, to have her kindly condescension repelled.
”I suppose so,” she agreed; ”but I have gone through so much in a few hours that I am bewildered, apt to forget these nice distinctions.”
Where these two quareling, or flirting? Who can tell?
Jenks was closely examining the reef on which the _Sirdar_ struck.
Some square objects were visible near the palm tree. The sun, glinting on the waves, rendered it difficult to discern their significance.
”What do you make of those?” he inquired, handing the gla.s.ses, and blandly ignoring Miss Deane's petulance. Her brain was busy with other things while she twisted the binoculars to suit her vision. Rainbow Island--Iris--it was a nice conceit. But ”menial” struck a discordant note. This man was no menial in appearance or speech. Why was he so deliberately rude?
”I think they are boxes or packing-cases,” she announced.
”Ah, that was my own idea. I must visit that locality.”
”How? Will you swim?”
”No,” he said, his stern lips relaxing in a smile, ”I will not swim; and by the way, Miss Deane, be careful when you are near the water. The lagoon is swarming with sharks at present. I feel tolerably a.s.sured that at low tide, when the remnants of the gale have vanished, I will be able to walk there along the reef.”
”Sharks!” she cried. ”In there! What horrible surprises this speck of land contains! I should not have imagined that sharks and seals could live together.”
”You are quite right,” he explained, with becoming gravity. ”As a rule sharks infest only the leeward side of these islands. Just now they are attracted in shoals by the wreck.”
”Oh.” Iris s.h.i.+vered slightly.
”We had better go back now. The wind is keen here, Miss Deane.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: HE WAS SO BUSY THAT HE PAID LITTLE HEED TO IRIS, BUT THE ODOR OF FRIED HAM WAS WAFTED TO HIM]
She knew that he purposely misunderstood her gesture. His att.i.tude conveyed a rebuke. There was no further room for sentiment in their present existence; they had to deal with chill necessities. As for the sailor, he was glad that the chance turn of their conversation enabled him to warn her against the lurking dangers of the lagoon. There was no need to mention the devil-fish now; he must spare her all avoidable thrills.
They gathered the stores from the first _al fresco_ dining-room and reached the cave without incident. Another fire was lighted, and whilst Iris attended to the kitchen the sailor felled several young trees. He wanted poles, and these were the right size and shape. He soon cleared a considerable s.p.a.ce. The timber was soft and so small in girth that three cuts with the axe usually sufficed. He dragged from the beach the smallest tarpaulin he could find, and propped it against the rock in such manner that it effectually screened the mouth of the cave, though admitting light and air.
He was so busy that he paid little heed to Iris. But the odor of fried ham was wafted to him. He was lifting a couple of heavy stones to stay the canvas and keep it from flapping in the wind, when the girl called out--
”Wouldn't you like to have a wash before dinner?”
He straightened himself and looked at her. Her face and hands were s.h.i.+ning, spotless. The change was so great that his brow wrinkled with perplexity.
”I am a good pupil,” she cried. ”You see I am already learning to help myself. I made a bucket out of one of the dish-covers by slinging it in two ropes. Another dish-cover, some sand and leaves supplied basin, soap, and towel. I have cleaned the tin cups and the knives, and see, here is my greatest treasure.”
She held up a small metal lamp.
”Where in the world did you find that?” he exclaimed.
”Buried in the sand inside the cave.”
”Anything else?”
His tone was abrupt She was so disappointed by the seeming want of appreciation of her industry that a gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt died from her eyes and she shook her head, stooping at once to attend to the toasting of some biscuits.