"I was--shipwrecked," she said, "in a motor-car--I am the only
survivor--"
Her eyes twinkled. "I'll tell you all about it presently." Then she
broke off and laughed.
"But first will you feed a starving castaway?"
Yet she didn't really tell us anything. She ate and ate, and it was the
prettiest thing to see her. She was dainty and young and eager like a
child at a party.
"How good everything is!" she said, at last with a sigh. "I don't think
I was ever so hungry in my life."
Billy and I didn't eat much. You see we were too interested, and
besides we had had our dinner.
As I have said, she didn't really tell us anything. "It was an accident,
and I came up here. And the old clock that you heard strike belonged to
my grandfather. He was an admiral, and it was his clock. I used to
listen to it as a child."
"What happened to the rest--?" Billy asked, bluntly. He was more
concerned about the automobile accident than about her ancestors.
"Oh, do you mean the others in the car?" she came reluctantly back from
the admiral and his ship's clock. "I am sure I don't know. And I am very
sure that I don't care."
"But were any of them killed?"
"No--they are all alive--but you see--it was a shipwreck--and I floated
away--by myself--and this is my island, and you are the nice friendly
savages--" she touched Billy on the arm. He drew away a bit. I knew that
he was afraid she had lost her mind, but I had seen her twinkling eyes.
"Oh, it's all a joke!" I said.
She shook her head. "It isn't exactly a joke, but it might look like
that to other people."
"Are you going to stay?"
"Yes."
"I'll come up in the morning for orders," said Billy promptly. "I keep
the grocery store at Jefferson Corners."
"Oh," she said, and seemed to hesitate; "there won't be any orders."