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"This is to be your drawing-room and dining-room, Madame," declared Mr.
Stuart, as he helped Madame de Villiers over the sandy hillock. "You may do whatever you like here. You may pull the violets, or walk on them.
There are no park rules."
"Was there ever such a place in the world!" exclaimed Countess Sophia.
"I shall not leave it until we sail for home. The most wonderful of sea trout could not lure me from this enchanting spot."
"We shall stay here, too," agreed Mollie and Grace. "I would rather gather violets than catch gold fish," Mollie a.s.sured Mr. Stuart.
The wicker chairs were brought from the launch, so that Madame de Villiers and Aunt Sallie could be comfortable in their sylvan retreat.
Ruth and Barbara went off with Mr. Stuart on the quest for fish, while the young countess, Mollie and Grace gathered wild flowers and made wreaths of the sweet-smelling yellow jasmine.
Grace ran with her crown of wild jasmine and placed it on Miss Sallie's soft white hair. The countess placed her wreath on Madame de Villiers's head.
"Oh, happy day, Oh, day so dear!"
sang Countess Sophia as she stuck one of the beautiful yellow flowers into her dark hair and danced with Mollie over the sands.
It was a happy day indeed--one that the little party would never forget!
Mysteries and unanswered questions were banished. Even Bab forgot for the time being all disquieting thoughts. The lovely young countess, with her eyes full of an appealing tenderness, had driven away all ugly suspicion.
Several hours later the fishing party returned.
"See what we've got!" Ruth exclaimed proudly, as she ran up the sand hill flourishing a string of speckled sea trout.
"Miss am sho a lucky fisherman," agreed the old colored man in whose boat Mr. Stuart and the two girls had been fishing.
"But where are your fish, Barbara?" Grace inquired.
Mr. Stuart laughed. "Bab is the unluckiest fisherman that ever threw out a line," he explained. "Shall I tell them, Bab?"
Barbara flushed. "Oh, go ahead," she consented.
"Well," Mr. Stuart continued, "Miss Barbara Thurston caught a tarpon a yard long this morning."
"Where is it?" cried the waiting audience.
"Back in the sea, whence it came, and it nearly took Mistress Bab along with it," Mr. Stuart answered. "When Barbara caught her tarpon, she began reeling in her line as fast as she could. But the tarpon was too heavy for it, and the line broke. Then Bab prepared to dive into the ocean after her fish."
"I was so excited I forgot I did not have on my bathing suit," Bab explained. "I thought, if I could just dive down into the water, I could catch my tarpon, and then Mr. Stuart could pull us both back into the boat."
"Reckless, Barbara!" cried Miss Stuart. "What will you do next!"
"Don't scold, Aunt Sallie," Ruth begged. "It was too funny, and Father and I caught hold of Bab's skirts before she jumped. Then old Jim, the colored man, got the fish. So we had a good look at him without Bab's drowning herself. But when we found that the catch was a tarpon, and not good to eat, Father flung it back in the water."
While Mr. Stuart and the girls were talking, Jim and the engineer from the launch built a fire. They were soon at work frying the fish for luncheon.
n.o.body noticed that a small naphtha launch had been creeping cautiously along the coast. It was sheltered from view by the bank of sand. And it managed to hide itself in a little inlet about a quarter of a mile away from Mr. Stuart's larger boat.
After a hearty luncheon no one had much to say. The "Automobile Girls"
were unusually silent. Finally they confessed to being dreadfully sleepy. There is something in the soft air of Florida that compels drowsiness. Miss Sallie and Madame de Villiers nodded in their chairs.
Mr. Stuart, the countess and the four girls stretched themselves on the warm sand. Jim slept under the lea of his small fishing boat, and the engineer of the launch went to sleep on the sand not far from the water's edge.
For nearly an hour the entire party slumbered. All at once Mr. Stuart awoke with a feeling that something had happened. He rubbed his eyes, then counted the girls and his guests. Miss Sallie was safe under the shadow of her parasol, which had been fixed over her head. Madame de Villiers sat nodding in her chair.
The afternoon shadows had begun to lengthen; a fresh breeze was stirring the leaves of the palm trees. But, except for the occasional call of a mocking bird, not a sound could be heard.
Mr. Stuart waited. Did he not hear a faint noise coming from the direction of his launch. "The engineer has probably gone aboard!" Mr.
Stuart thought.
"It is high time we were leaving for home," said he to himself.
But as he stepped to the edge of the embankment he saw his engineer still lying on the ground sleeping soundly.
A small boat like a black speck disappeared around a curve in the sh.o.r.e.
"What on earth does that mean?" cried Mr. Stuart. Leaping over the sandy wall he ran toward his engineer. Mr. Stuart shook him gently. The man opened his eyes drowsily, yawned then raising himself to a sitting position, looked stupidly about.
"A strange boat has just put out from here," said Mr. Stuart quietly.
"We had better go out to the launch and see if all is well."
The engineer rose to his feet, and still stupid from his heavy sleep, followed Mr. Stuart to the dinghy. The sound of voices aroused old Jim who clambered to his feet blinking rapidly.
Mr. Stuart and the engineer pushed off toward the launch, each feeling that he was about to come upon something irregular. Their premonitions proved wholly correct. The engine room of the pretty craft was a total wreck. The machinery had been taken apart so deftly, it seemed as though an engineer alone could have accomplished it, while the most important parts of the engine were missing.
"Whose work is this?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Stuart, clenching his fists in impotent rage. Suddenly it dawned upon him what the wrecking of his launch meant. He was on an uninhabited sh.o.r.e with seven women, his engineer, and colored servant, with no prospect of getting away that night.
He felt in his pockets. A pen-knife was his only tool or weapon.
Mr. Stuart rowed back to sh.o.r.e to break the disagreeable news to the members of his party. But the sleepers were awake on his return. They had seen Mr. Stuart row hurriedly out to the launch with the engineer, and surmised instantly that something had happened.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" wailed the countess, when Mr. Stuart had explained their plight. "Must I always bring ill-luck to you?"
"Nonsense!" expostulated Mr. Stuart. "How could the wrecking of our engine have any connection with you, Countess?"
Old Jim who still stood blinking and stretching now began to vaguely grasp the situation.
"'Scuse me ladies," he mumbled. "I spects I'se jest been nappin' a little. I ain't been 'zactly asleep."
The "Automobile Girls" laughed, in spite of the difficulties which confronted them.
"Oh no, you haven't been asleep," Mr. Stuart a.s.sured him, "but that nap of yours was a close imitation of the real thing."
Jim grinned sheepishly and hung his woolly head. "I 'low nothin' bad ain't happened, suh."
"Something bad certainly has happened. In fact about as bad as it well could be, Jim," declared Mr. Stuart. "Some wretch has tampered with the engine of our launch and left us high and dry on this lonely sh.o.r.e. We must do something and that something quickly. It's getting late, and we don't want to spend the night here, lovely as the place is. Where's the nearest house or village?"
"Lor', suh," exclaimed old Jim. "This am a lonesome spot. There ain't no village no wheres round heah!"
"But where is the nearest house, then?" demanded Mr. Stuart.