to Gracias, Lucian?"

"There's a contraband with a dug-out waiting for me over on the Espiritu
side," answered Spenser; "I walked across."

"Ah! _we_ are sailing," remarked the clergyman, in a gently superior
tone; little as he himself enjoyed maritime excursions, he felt that
this was the proper tone to take in the presence of his host, the owner
of the _Emperadora_. "We shall reach home, probably, much earlier than
you will," he went on, looking off at the chaparral with an abstracted
air.

Winthrop, smiling at this innocent little manoeuvre, invited Spenser to
return to Gracias with them; he could send one of his men across to tell
the contraband of the change of plan. Spenser accepted the offer
promptly. He packed his scattered belongings into small compass, and
slung them across his shoulder; his easel, under his manipulation,
became a stout walking-stick.

"That is a very convenient arrangement," said the clergyman.

"Yes; I am rather proud of it. I invented it myself."

"Ah, that's your father in you," said Mr. Moore, unconsciously betraying
something that was almost disapproval; "your father was a northern man.
But your mother, Lucian, was a thorough southerner; _she_ had no taste
for invention."

"She wouldn't have had it even if she had been a northern woman, I
fancy," responded Spenser; "women are not inventors. I don't mind saying
it before Mrs. Harold and Miss Thorne, because they haven't the air of
wishing to be; it's a particular sort of air, you know."

"Is your invention strong?" asked Winthrop. "I don't know how we are
going to get the ladies down to the beach, unless we make a perch for
them by driving that stick of yours and Mr. Moore's butterfly pole into
the sand-drift half-way down. From there, with our help, they might
perhaps jump the rest of the distance; we should have to tread out some
sort of footing for ourselves."

Mr. Moore involuntarily glanced at his green pole, and then at Margaret
and Garda, as if estimating their weight.

"We shall certainly snap it in two," exclaimed Garda, gayly. "Snip,
snap, gone!"

"But there's a descent not so very far above here," said Spenser; "I've
found it once, and I think, if you will trust me, I can find it again."
He led the way into the chaparral, and the others followed.

The chaparral, a thicket of little evergreen oaks, rose, round the
flower cove, to a height of ten feet. But soon it grew lower, and they
came out upon a broad stretch