The Spanish Chest Part 5

"Well, I can speak three sentences in French. I'll write you in French next time.

"I know that Amos and Hosea and Isaiah were all prophets and said that Israel was a very bad place.

"I know that Paleolithic man was probably the first inhabitant of Great Britain.

"I know how few people like to join mission study cla.s.ses.

"And I know that I love you."

Fran finished her letter, directed and sealed the envelope, affixed a stamp, sniffing slightly at the head of King George instead of George Was.h.i.+ngton, and ran down-stairs.

"Do you know where Edith is?" she asked of Nurse.

"She is out in front, Miss Frances," replied Nurse. "Are you going for a walk?"

"Just to the beach. We'll be back for tea."

Edith stood at the gate and the two ran down to the sh.o.r.e. The tide, half-way out, left bare a tremendous expanse of wet sand, iridescent under the sun's rays. The water showed wonderful shades of blue, green and turquoise, and in the edge of the retreating waves walked hundreds of gulls, searching for food.

The girls started up the beach toward St. Helier's, chatting happily as they watched the water and the birds. Little sandpipers appeared and some huge gray cormorants.

Presently a handsome collie ran up to them, dropped a stone before Frances and stood looking at her, his head c.o.c.ked on one side, all but speaking.

"You darling," said Frances, picking up the pebble. "Does he want to be played with? Well, he shall."

She threw the stone down the beach and the collie shot after it at full speed, his beautiful tawny coat s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight.

"Twice before," said Edith, "when I've been on the sands, he has begged me to throw stones for him to chase. He's a thorough-bred.

Such fine markings! He looks like one of the Westmoreland sheep dogs. You've heard of them, haven't you? They are so intelligent about taking care of sheep and they understand everything their masters want. We saw one once that separated and brought to his master three sheep out of a big flock and the man didn't say one word, only motioned to him. He wants you to throw it again."

"I can't throw stones for you all night," said Fran at last. "You take a turn, Edith."

Edith threw a pebble picked up at random. The collie raced for it and after a sniff, returned without it.

"He wants his own stone and no other," laughed Frances. "See, he's hunting all about. There, he's found it!"

For a good mile down the beach the collie accompanied them, till both were tired of play. Convinced that they would throw his stone no longer, the dog reluctantly left them. Looking back, they saw him accosting a young man, who promptly yielded to the mute coaxing.

"I wonder whose dog he is," said Edith. "He didn't seem to belong to any one we pa.s.sed. I fancy he's here on his own."

"We really ought to go over to Castle Elizabeth soon," observed Frances. "Doesn't it look like a huge monster stranded out there in the harbor?"

"Sister is afraid of the tides," replied Edith. "A soldier was drowned there the other day, trying to cross the causeway after the tide had turned. Look, Fran, I believe that must be his funeral up on the road now. It is a military one at any rate."

Frances looked with interest. First marched a guard of soldiers, two by two, then a band with m.u.f.fled drums, playing the Dead March. After the band came a gun-carriage drawn by four horses and bearing the coffin, over which was draped the English flag.

Several barouches followed with officers in uniform, and then the rest of the regiment, walking very slowly, their guns reversed.

As the procession approached, every man on the route uncovered and did not replace his hat until it had pa.s.sed, a mark of respect which struck Frances forcibly. "They have better manners than we have," she acknowledged half to herself.

Edith looked surprised. "Men always uncover on meeting a funeral,"

she remarked. "This was a private, but if he had been an officer, his helmet and sword would be on the flag, and directly behind the gun-carriage, his orderly would lead his riderless horse. A military wedding is so pretty, Frances. I saw one once in Bath Abbey. The officers were all in full uniform and after the ceremony they formed in the aisle, two lines going way down out of the church and at a signal, drew their swords and crossed them with a clash above their heads and the bride and groom came down this path through the glittering swords. I was just a tiny then, but I decided I'd marry a soldier so I could have the arch of swords."

"It must have been very pretty," Frances agreed. "Why, what are those? See, like immense horseshoes in the water."

"The bathing pools," explained Edith. "They show only when the tide is very low. They keep back water for bathing."

"And a good job, too, when you have a tide that goes out of sight," commented Frances approvingly, as she looked at the two huge masonry walls near St. Helier's, set in the expanse of wet sand. "Look at the boys sailing boats."

"Sometimes there are real races with little model yachts," said Edith. "There's a club of the young officers and some of the townspeople and they have the prettiest little miniature boats with keels about a metre long, rigged exactly like real racing yachts. It's great sport to see them. But ought we not to go back?"

The girls turned for they were already far from home. To their surprise they were presently greeted again by the collie who tore up to hail them rapturously.

"Still chewing your stone?" Frances inquired. "Come along. I suppose we'll have to take you part way back."

The collie flew for the pebble as though for the first time of the afternoon. Before they had gone more than a quarter of a mile, a pretty young lady came up.

"I'm afraid my bad Tylo has been bothering you," she said apologetically. "He is forever coming on the sands and badgering people into playing with him."

"Oh, we liked to play," said Frances, smiling. "I think he's a brick. What did you call him?"

"Tylo," replied the young lady. "After the dog in the 'Blue Bird,'

you know."

Edith also smiled. Their new acquaintance was looking from one to another, a charming and rather mischievous expression lighting a sweet face.

"You're a little sister compatriot," she said to Edith; "but I fancy this little lady comes from across the ocean."

"Yes, I do," said Frances, "but how did you know?"

The young lady laughed merrily. "Oh, I've knocked about a good bit. And I happen to have known one American boy very well.

Indeed, we really grew up together in Italy and England. 'Brick'

is rather an American word, isn't it? I've surely heard my friend use it. Americans seldom find their way to Jersey. Are you stopping long?"

"Perhaps all winter," replied Frances.

"There are many delightful excursions to make in the island," said the young lady. "Come along, Tylo. We must go home to tea. Oh,"

she added to the girls, "when you go on picnics, don't forget to look for caves."

With another smile and a charming little nod, she left them.

"I wonder who she is," said Frances, frankly looking after her.

The erect lithe figure was crowned by a finely poised head and a wealth of beautiful fair hair, prettily arranged. Something in her face suggested possibilities of good comrades.h.i.+p, and her dress, while simplicity itself, betrayed a French origin.

"She looks nice enough and ladylike enough to be an American,"

thought Frances approvingly and with a sudden stab of homesickness.

"I wish she'd told us her name," she went on aloud, "and who the American boy was. Perhaps we might know him."