arch for rare shells or bits of scarlet or purple weed
which were hidden and entangled there. How brightly shone the sun!
What peace and calm hovered over land and sea! He was just beginning
to be conscious of the joy and loveliness which the afternoon held. It
was no wonder, he thought, that Noll's blithe, unclouded heart loved
such a pleasant earth, and found delight in all the hours which
flitted by. But for himself, alas! all this brightness was clouded
over by the ever-present, ever-shadowing darkness of the future. It
might have been different if--if--But with a sigh Trafford put away
these thoughts, and followed on. They lingered around the rocks in
their path, black with fringes of dry sea-weed, and talked of gneiss
and sienite, granite and trap; they stopped at the curve in the shore,
and sat down to watch the white flitting of sails on the far
horizon-line, and somehow, the sight of them led to a long talk about
Hastings and Noll's papa, and happy memories of other days. Trafford
was in a softened mood as they rose up from their seat on a great
fragment which had fallen from the cliff above, and Noll said,--

"Come, Uncle Richard, let's keep on toward Culm. It's _so_ pleasant,
and night is a long way off yet."

If he had followed his own inclinations, the uncle would have turned
about and retraced his steps, but Noll had started on, and Trafford
followed, thinking, "It isn't often the boy has company in his
rambles. I can humor him for once."

Slowly enough they approached the Culm houses, loitering along the
moist, shining sand, over which the waves had rolled and rippled but a
few hours before, and marking their devious path with straying
footprints. Noll's heart began to beat somewhat faster as they neared
the fishermen's houses, and he kept a keen watch upon his uncle's face
in order to detect the first look of surprise and astonishment that
should come across it when he perceived how the huts had been
improved. But Trafford's eyes were turned toward the sea, thoughtfully
and gravely, and they drew very near the village without the discovery
being made. They came upon Dirk, Hark Darby, and two or three other
fishermen, spreading their nets in the sun, all of whom touched their
hats and nodded respectfully to Noll, eying the uncle, meanwhile, with
curious eyes and half-averted faces. The sight of these men brought
Trafford's eyes and thoughts back to Culm and the present. He turned
to Noll, saying,