The derelict did not afford them much amusement or information. The
waves soon beat her to pieces on the savage rocks. Apparently she had
been a ship plying between Western ports, probably San Francisco and
Honolulu. In the wreckage washed up there were a few pounds of rice,
and some brooms of what they believed to be sugar-cane. There was
nothing else.
"Not even a lemon!" Robin said disconsolately. "Think of living all
one's natural life not only ten, but ten thousand miles from a lemon."
Adam laughed sympathetically. "It's like a yachting party I remember;
we found that the boat we had engaged had been taken by somebody else,
and our set had to be divided. Later in the evening we discovered that
we had all the sugar and the other crowd all the lemons. ''Twas ever
thus from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay: I never
wanted something sour, but what molasses came my way.' Never mind,
dear. We will go and plant our sugar, and by the time it is ready to
sweeten anything, a whole cargo of lemons may have floated into harbor
right at our door."
They crossed the ranges to the western coast, where there was lower
ground, better fitted to the supposed requirements of rice and cane,
and had a good deal of amusement out of their ignorance, neither of
them having more than a misty idea about either rice or sugar before
they reach the stage to be served together.
It was quite late when they were through and camped for supper.
Remembering their trip of a few weeks previous, that now seemed so
long ago, Adam said, "Are you too tired to sing, dear? It is so long
since I have heard you."
She stood up and thought for a moment, and then putting back her
loosened hair began with Bourdillon's "The night has a thousand eyes,"
and sang on and on. At last, turning to Adam with a little fond
gesture, and altering the words slightly, she sang:
"Like a laverlock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride!
All the world was Adam once, with Eve by his side.
What's the world, my lad, my love? What can it do?
I am thine, and thou art mine; life is sweet and new.
If the world have missed the mark, let it stand by,
For we two have gotten leave, and once more we'll try."
"'Once more,'" Adam repeated. "Once more, my darling! Oh, life is
sweet and new for us; we can afford to lose the world! When will you
come to me, love, when?"
She shook her head with a little wilful laugh, and all the glistening
glory of her hair fell about her like a wedding veil.
"Wait," she said; "wait a little. The flax is not nearly ready for
spinning yet; can a bride forget her attire? Besides, how can we be--"
she paused, and let her silence fill the gap, "when I know we neither
of us know any ceremony more dignified than hopping over a
broomstick?"
They started homeward, walking slowly through the dimly lighted
mountain gorges, talking the ineffable nonsense that lovers never
weary of. As they came to a brook that rushed noisily down the ravine,
Adam stepped across, and held out his hand to her.
"Wait a moment," he said, "just where you are, dear, and say this with
me:--
"'Over running water: my love I give to you, my life I pledge to you,
my heart I take not back from you while this water runs.
"'Over running water: every seventh year, at this time of the year, at
this hour of the night, I will meet you here to renew my troth; death
alone to relieve me of this vow.'"
"Is that all?" she asked wonderingly. "Over running water, while this
water runs, while there is any snow in the mountains, or rivers upon
land, or waters in the seas, or clouds in the skies, when the world is
old, and the sun burned out, and time grows weary, I shall love you
still, always and forever. What is it all about, love?" He clasped her
close, and did not answer at once. "Don't you know that old Irish
troth," he said, "which would have been enough, even in that hard,
unromantic world of ours, to have made you legally my wife, if said
over any Scottish stream? I thought you knew; you are sure I would not
trick you? You know I could not?" He put her head back on his shoulder
and looked into her shining eyes. It seemed to him he could not bear
even a look of reproach. She raised her hands almost as if she were
placing an invisible crown upon his head, and let her arms fall about
his shoulders.
"Then I am your wife while living water runs?"
"Forever and forever," he replied.
"Oh, wait, wait just a little," she answered.