He agreed, and they set off in high fettle just before noon,
expecting to return before dark. Sheila was upstairs dusting when,
not long after the noon hour, she saw from one of the windows the
spread canvas of the _Seamew_--there was no mistaking the
schooner--making through the channel into the cove.
"Tunis is coming! Tunis is coming! Tunis is coming soon!"
Her heart sang the refrain over and over again. She fairly danced
about the household tasks she had set herself to do while the old
couple were absent. Now and again she ran to some point where she
could watch the _Seamew_. The memory of Tunis' kisses were on her
lips and in her heart. In the dusk of the previous Monday morning,
when he was on his way to the port to take command of his schooner,
the young shipmaster had held her in his arms at the back door
there, and had told her over and over again of his love for her.
Thought of that moment was an exquisite memory to the girl.
She saw the schooner drop anchor off Portygee Town, with all its
canvas rattling down in windrows of white. She even saw the little
gig launched. Tunis was coming ashore. He would soon be up the hill.
His long strides would soon bring him to her side again--open-eyed,
ruddy-faced, a veritable sea god among men!
She ran out a dozen times to gaze down the road and wonder what kept
him.
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