We reached Ellan towards the close of the following day. It was the
height of the holiday season, and the island seemed to be ablaze with
lights.
Two motor-cars were waiting for us at the pier, and in a little while we
were driving out of Blackwater through congested masses of people who
were rambling aimlessly through the principal streets.
Our way was across a stone bridge that crossed the harbour at its inner
end, and then up a hill that led to a headland overlooking the sea.
Within half an hour we drew up at a pair of large gate posts which were
much decayed and leaning heavily out of the perpendicular.
The chauffeur of the first of our ears got down to open the gate, and
after it had clashed to behind us, we began to ascend a very steep drive
that was bordered by tall elm trees. It was now almost dark, and the
rooks, which had not yet gone off to the mountains, were making their
evening clamour.
"Well, my dear, you're at home at last, and much good may it do you,"
said my husband.