"
I saw him presently looking in an annoyed and puzzled fashion after
the vanishing figure of the sailor.
Mr. Tubbs and the umbrellas soon disappeared into the woods. I
believe the search for Bill Halliwell's tombstone was no longer
very actively pursued, and that the trio spent their time ensconced
in a snug little nook with hammocks and cushions, where Mr. Tubbs
beguiled the time with reading aloud--Aunt Jane and Violet both
being provided with literature--and relating anecdotes of his rise
to greatness in the financial centers of the country. I more than
suspected Mr. Tubbs of feeling that such a bird in the hand as Aunt
Jane was worth many doubloons in the bush. But in spite of
uneasiness about the future, for the present I rested secure in the
certainty that they could not elope from the island, and that there
was no one on it with authority to metamorphose Aunt Jane into Mrs.
Hamilton H. Tubbs.
The waters of the cove had receded until a fringe of rocks under
the high land of the point, usually covered, had been left bare. I
had watched the emergence of their black jagged surfaces for some
time before it occurred to me that they offered a means of access
to the cave. The cave--place of fascination and mystery! Here was
the opportunity of all others to explore it, unhampered by any one,
just Crusoe and I alone, in the fashion that left me freest to
indulge my dreams.
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