* * * *

Never, probably, did simpler obsequies befall a peer of France.

Sitting up in the same position as on the rustic bench, his cheek upon
his hand, his elbow on the side of the barrow, the hermit was wheeled to
his final resting-place beneath the pines. Beside him, with a helping
hand, walked Elinor Marshall, shocked and saddened by these awful
incongruities.

Behind came Solomon.

Among the pines, in the solemn shade of this cathedral, grander and more
impressive than any human temple, moved the little procession.

No requiem; only the murmuring in the boughs above, those far-away
voices, dearer to him, perhaps,--and to his companion in the grave
beside,--than all other music.

[Illustration]

VII

THE CLOUDS GATHER

The supper that evening was late.

After the simple repast--of crackers, tongue, and a cup of tea--Pats and
Elinor strolled out into the twilight and sat upon a rock. The rock was
at the very tip of the point, overlooking the water to the south.

On the right, off to the west, the land showed merely as a purple strip
in the fading light, stretching out into the gulf a dozen miles or more.
Behind it the sinking sun had left a bar of crimson light. To the east
lay another headland running, like its neighbor, many miles to the
south. These two coasts formed a vast bay, at whose northern extremity
lay the little point at which Miss Elinor Marshall and Mr. Patrick Boyd
had been landed by the _Maid of the North_. In the gathering gloom
this prospect, with the towering forest that lay behind, was
impressive--and solemn. And the solemnity of the scene was intensified
by the primeval solitude,--the absence of all sign of human life.

Both travellers were silent, thoughtful, and very tired. It had been a
long day, and then the misunderstanding in the middle of it had told
considerably upon the nerves of both. To Pats the most exhausting
experience of all had been the business of the baggage,--its
transportation from the beach below to the house above. Elinor's trunk,
being far too heavy for their own four hands, Pats had suggested
carrying the trays up separately; and this was done. Certain things from
his own trunk he had lugged off into the woods, where, as he said:

"There's a little outbuilding that will do for me. Not a royal museum
like this of yours, but good accommodations for a bachelor."

She did not inquire as to particulars. The gentleman's bed-chamb