re left alone by the open window
to end their summer idyll to the music of the rising tide that crooned
and murmured among the rocks of Valpre that had seen its beginning.

CHAPTER XI

THE END OF THE VOYAGE

How the sun was shining on the water! What a glorious morning for a
bathe! Chris laughed to herself--a happy little, inconsequent laugh.

But she must be quick or Mademoiselle Gautier would catch her and forbid
her to go! Poor old Mademoiselle, who had been brought up in a convent
and thought all nice things were improper!

Would Bertie be there with his boat, a white-clad, supple figure, with
his handsome olive face, and his dark eyes with their friendly laugh?
Surely it was the flash of his oars in the sunlight that dazzled her so!
She would swim to him through the crystal water, and he would stretch out
his hands to her, and she would go up to him like a bird from the sea,
and perch upon the stern. He would scold her a little for swimming out so
far, but what of that? She liked being scolded by Bertie!

How warmly the sun shone down upon them! And how she loved to watch the
slim activity of him as he bent to his work! She wished they did not move
quite so fast, even though the speed was so delicious, for they were
nearing the rocks. Oh no, she was not afraid! Who could be afraid with
Bertie in the boat? But when they reached the rocks, it would be the end
of the voyage, and she did not want it to end.

Ah! now she could catch the sparkle of the sand, and there away in the
distance a powdery whirl which was all she could see of Cinders. He was
evidently digging for dear life, and again Chris laughed.

And now she stood with her back to the glittering sea, and her face to
the mysterious granite of the ages. Where had he gone--her _preux
chevalier_? Was he hidden in the dark recesses of the Magic Cave? She
would go in search of him. He would not hide long from her, for she
possessed the secret of the spell that would draw him forth.

But the rocks were slippery under her feet, and more than once she
stumbled. She found herself confronted by obstacles such as had never
before obstructed her path. A little tremor of distress went through her.
Why had she quitted that sunny sea? Why had she ever suffered herself to
be beguiled into the boat?

It became increasingly difficult, wellnigh impossible, to go forward. She
turned aside. Ah! there was Bertie, after all, out on the sand, waiting
for her. He he