They _were_ seen.
A solitary gentleman sauntering along the cliff, saw the girls go down.
He was coming from the direction of Ochre Point, but too far off to tell
more than that they were two young ladies, followed by a black servant.
He thought it a little strange at that hour. It was bathing-time upon
the beach. He could see the boxes discharging their gay groups in
costumes of green and blue, crimson and scarlet--in the distance looking
like parti-coloured Lilliputians.
"Why are these two ladies not along with them?" was his reflection.
"Shell-gatherers, I suppose," was the conjecture that followed.
"Searchers after strange seaweeds. From Boston, no doubt. And I'd bet
high that the nose of each is bridged with a pair of blue spectacles."
The gentleman smiled at the conceit, but suddenly changed it. The sable
complexion of the servant suggested a different conclusion.
"More like they are Southerners?" was the muttered remark.
After making it he ceased to think of them. He had a gun in his hand,
and was endeavouring to get a shot at some of the large seabirds now and
then sweeping along the escarpment of the cliff.
As the tide was still only commencing to return from its ebb, these flew
low, picking up their food from the stranded _algae_ that, like a
fringe, followed the outlines of the shore.
The sportsman, observing this, became convinced he would have a better
chance below; and down went he through one of the gaps--the first that
presented itself!
Keeping on towards the Forty Steps, he progressed only slowly. Here and
there rough ledges required scaling; the yielding sand also delayed him.
But he was in no hurry. The chances of a shot were as good at one place
as another. Hours must elapse ere the Ocean House gong would summon its
scattered guests to their grand dinner. He was one of them. Until that
time he had no reason for returning to the hotel.
The gentleman thus leisurely strolling, is worthy a word or two by way
of description.
That he was only an amateur sportsman, his style of dress plainly
proclaimed. More plainly did it bespeak the soldier. A forage cap,
that had evidently seen service, half shadowed a face whose deep sun-tan
told of that service being done in a tropical clime; while the tint,
still fresh and warm, was evidence of recent return. A plain
frock-coat, of civilian cut, close buttoned; a pair of dark-blue
pantaloons, with well-made boots below them, completed his semi-military
costume. Added: that these garments were fitted upon a figure
calculated to display them to the utmost advantage.
The face was in keeping with the figure. _Not_ oval, but of that rotund
shape, ten times more indicative of daring, as of determination.
Handsome, too, surmounted as it was by a profusion of dark hair, and
adorned by a well-defined moustache. These advantages had the young man
in question, who, despite the appearance of much travel, and some
military service, was still under thirty.
Slowly sauntering onward, his boots scranching among the pebbles, he
heard but the sound of his own footsteps.
It was only on stopping to await the passage of a gull, and while
calculating the carry of his gun, that other sounds arrested his
attention.
These were so sweet, that the gull was at once forgotten. It flew past
without his attempting to pull trigger--although so close to the muzzle
of his gun he might have "murdered" it!
"Nymphs! Naiads! Mermaids! Which of the three? Proserpine upon a
rock superintending their aquatic sports! Ye gods and goddesses! what
an attractive tableau?"
These words escaped him, as he stood crouching behind a point of rock
that abutted far out from the line of the cliff. Beyond it was the cove
in which the young ladies were bathing--the negress keeping but careless
watch as she sat upon one of the ledges.
"Chaste Dian!" exclaimed the sportsman; "pardon me for this intrusion.
Quite inadvertent, I assure you. I must track back," he continued, "to
save myself from being transformed into a stag. Provoking, too! I
wanted to go that way to explore a cave I've heard spoken of. I came
out with this intention. How awkward to be thus interrupted!"
There was something like a lie outlined upon his features as he muttered
the last reflection. In his actions too; for he still loitered behind
the rock--still kept looking over it.
Plunging in pellucid water not waist-deep--their lower extremities only
concealed by the saturated skirts that clung like cerements around
them--their feet showing clear as coral--the two young creatures
continued to disport themselves. Only Joseph himself could have
retreated from the sight!
And then their long hair in full dishevelment--of two colour, black and
gold--sprinkled by the pearly spray, as the girls, with tiny rose-tipped
fingers, dashed the water in each other's faces--all the time making the
rocks ring with the music of their merry voices--ah! from such a picture
who could comfortably withdraw his eyes?
It cost the sportsman an effort; of which he was capable--only by
thinking of his sister.
And thinking of her, he loitered no longer, but drew back behind the
rock.
"Deuced awkward!" he again muttered to himself--perhaps this time with
more sincerity. "I wished particularly to go that way. The cave cannot
be much farther on, and now to trudge all the way back! I must either
do that, or wait till they've got through their game of aquatics."
For a moment he stood reflecting. It was a considerable distance to the
place where he had descended the cliff. Moreover, the track was
toilsome, as he had proved by experience.