“ But, for all that, it is splendid weather; just the kind of weather that a boy likes when he comes to spend his holidays at the seaside; and Claude, who is an Indian-born boy, has no objection to a good hot summer.
As he stands, hands in pockets, on the narrow pebbled path under the window, you cannot help admiring the grace of his slim, well-knit figure, and the delicate moulding of his features. The fair skin is sun-tanned, as a boy's skin ought to be; the eyes, large and heavy-lidded, are of a dark grey, not brilliant, but soft; the light, fine hair is cropped close to the shapely head. ”

“ As Tim speaks the flood is surging up to his knees, and the wind, too, is rising higher and higher. All around him the waves are foaming over the sunken rocks, and the sea-thunder grows louder and more terrible every moment.
"I'll come down," cries Claude, making a desperate movement to descend. "You sha'n't stop there and drown alone! Do you think I'll be such a hound as to let you?"
But Bee with all her strength, holds him back. "Empey, dear Empey," she moans, "stay for my sake!"
"I'll take my chance," Tim sings out cheerily. "I can swim; I mean to try for the landing-place." ”

“ As she rode along through the quiet country lanes smelling sweet of the honeysuckle in the hedge and the wild dog-rose bursting into bloom, Patty's thoughts travelled fast and furiously, every whit as fast as Black Bess's hasty steps. Should she draw bridle at the village? No. She made up her mind quickly at that. In all probability the would-be thieves had made the village inn their headquarters for that day and night, and the pedlar—the man she wished most to avoid—would be the very person she would encounter. ”

“ Martin's eyes grew dilated, and his breath came and went, and he seized the fairy by the wrist. "Answer me," he gasped out hoarsely, "where's all that gold to be got? No palavering, or I'll bury you up again, and plant that same lauristinus-bush on your head!"
The fairy rolled her evil eye, and gave a forced laugh. "At the back of yonder mountain!" she cried, pointing with her thin, long hand to a hill whose summit overlooked the park. "The way thou must take is through the forest, till thou comest to the charcoal-burners' huts. ”

“ Gently but swiftly over the surface of the shining lake there glided a wonderful boat which glimmered with a pearly lustre, and as the breeze, filling its sails of purple silk, brought it closer to the steps, Grace gave a glad cry and sprang to her feet. A tall, white-bearded man, who stood in the prow of the boat, waved a long golden wand over his head, and Grace clapped her hands in glee.
"It's my dear, dear Indian priest off the door of the cabinet," she cried. "But how tall and beautiful he has grown!" ”

“ There is an unwonted softness in Tim's black eyes. He is a stout-hearted, matter-of-fact lad, people say, not given to dreaming; and yet he is seeing visions this afternoon. He sees Bee, not in her sailor's hat and girlish frock, but in white robes, with all her wealth of hair plaited up, and the pearls glistening on her neck. He sees the merry face grown graver, yet lovelier than ever; and then he tries to picture her home in that far-off land that he will never behold; a land of dark faces, and temples, and palms, and flowers.
And Claude will be with her always ”

“ He gazed with an air of calm dignity rather than surprise on the dwarf, when the latter, after walking once or twice round him, cried out, "Noble knight, noble knight, pray what is your grief, and can I do aught to relieve it? Say, wherefore these groans and sighs?"
"Foes and traitors, sorrow and shame!" returned the warrior. "But tell me, young man, canst thou show me the road to Langaffer?"
"That I can, noble sir," answered Wattie, impressed by the stranger's tone. "Do I not dwell in Langaffer myself!"
"Then perhaps, young man, thou knowest the Castle of Ravenspur?" ”

“ Aunt Hetty's heart is full of gratitude; Claude and Bee brought safely home by old Drake, have fallen asleep at last in their rooms, while she steals from chamber to chamber to look first at one tired young face and then at the other. But the tears hang on Claude's lashes as he sleeps; and more than once Bee moves restlessly on her pillow and murmurs Tim's name.
The wind, that has been blowing hard all through the night, subsides soon after sunrise. Clouds clear away from the east, and the golden morning shines upon the creamy cliffs of White Cove. ”

“ That evening, ere he lay down in his nest, poor Caspar had cut out of soft, well-tanned leather a pair of shoes, which he knew to be the king's own measure. "Ah," said Caspar, "the poor king must have his new shoes as soon as possible, for it is awful to suffer toe-ache, and to be obliged to sit all day long with one's feet swathed in flannel." And Caspar sat with his leather apron on, and wrought as if for life and death at the new shoes. He was too busy even to rise and look at the window for little Mabel passing by. ”

“ The great blue eyes glisten; and Claude is penitent in an instant.
"You ridiculous old chap!" he says gaily. "Haven't you been told thousands of times that my dad is your guardian, and as good as a father to you? And do you suppose that I'd go to India and leave you behind? You're coming too, you know, and you'll sit perched up on the back of an elephant to see me shoot tigers. What a time we'll have out there, Bee!"
"Do you really mean it?" she cries, with a rapturous face; blue eyes shining like sapphires, cheeks aglow with the richest rose. ”

“ Claude leans back against the low rock behind him, and looks out across the sea with eyes half-closed. The horizon line is sharp and clear to-day; the blue of the sky meets, but does not mingle with the deeper blue of the ocean; a few white sails can be distinctly seen. Now and then a gull flashes silvery wings in the sunshine, and its cry comes wailing across the water to the shore.
"Why, there's Tim!" says Bee, pointing to a broad-shouldered figure moving leisurely along the sand. ”

“ She gave a malicious smile, and simpered out flattering words to the half-bewildered labourer.
"A thousand thanks, O noble knight, for relieving a spell-bound lady! Pray let me know, is there aught that I can do to indicate my gratitude?"
"Tell me how I can earn my daily bread?" stammered forth poor Martin.
"Daily bread!" cried the fairy, tossing her head contemptuously. "I can tell thee, gallant sir, where to find gold, ay, more real yellow gold than the king and all his court ever dreamed of! I have not been pent up under that lauristinus all these years for nothing! I know a secret or two." ”

“ And how is your father's gardener then to get his living?"
"Don't bother us," drawled out the new king; "we don't like flowers, nor do we care whether you get a living or not!"
[Pg 370] The blood rushed to Martin's head, and a singing sound filled his ears. "A pond!" he cried. "A common fishpond! And how am I to earn my living now? And what is to become of my wife and little Lionel?"
In his anger and despair, Martin sprang blindly forward, and kicked the standard roses, and wrung the necks of the beautiful purple iris that bloomed in the shade of some laurel bushes. ”

“ We all missed her, for she had been used to paying periodical flying visits, and her face had always seemed to us like a bright gleam of sunshine breaking through that steaming, muggy, damp scrub.
One mail day, four years very near to the day after Billjim's departure, the usual letter was read out, and part of it ran so:
"Oh, mum dear, do let me come back now. I am sure I have learned enough, and oh! how I long for a sight of you and dad, and dear old Jack and Frenchy, and Jim Travers, and all of you in fact. Let me come, oh! do let me come back." ”

“ Don't forget, Elfie, that I am nearly old enough to be your father, that, in fact, I stand in that position to you—I am your only relative and protector—that I am right and you are wrong, and above all that it is for your own sake that I do it. Poor child! you have had far too little home life and home influence. I want you to be happy here, but the greatest source of happiness lies in ourselves. What Milton says is very true, "The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a hell of heaven, a heaven of hell." ”

“ His eye caught the spellbound lauristinus, and, forgetting his late good master's commands, he fell on it furiously with both hands, and tore, and wrenched it from the earth.
Then suddenly, as the roots and fibres of the ill-omened plant with a crackling noise were released from the soil, a wonderful being, which had been buried underneath it—a wicked fairy with an evil eye—uncoiled herself, and rose up straight and tall before him. ”

“ We wanted a breeze. And no breeze came, though we prayed for it night and day. The remorseless ocean was like a sheet of glass. The sun shone fiercely in the heavens. It made the sides of the cutter so hot that it hurt our poor hands to touch it.
And all those days no sign of a sail! Not a vestige of a passing ship!
Evans and Davis grumbled and swore. And so did Hookway sometimes. Gilliland was the most patient of the sailors; and tried to cheer up every one else with stories of other people's escapes.
On the May Queen Sylvia and I had thought Mr. Wheeler rather a commonplace sort of man. ”

“ I defy any man in the village, with an arm only the length of mine, to do more than I! Of course I can't measure myself with the neighbours. To handle Farmer Fairweather's pitchfork would break my back, and to hook a great perch, like Miller Mealy, in the mill-race, might be the capsizing of me. Still, what does that matter? I can catch little sprats for my little wife's dinner; I can dig in our patch of garden, and mend our tiny roof, so that we live as cosily and as merrily as the best of them."
"To be sure, Wattie dear!" said Mattie. ”

“ All the poetry is for them, and all the prose for Tim. His thoughts don't shape themselves into these very words, perhaps; but he does certainly feel that it is a dull path which lies before Tim Crooke.
While he dreams, he pulls as steadily as usual, and they are drawing nearer and nearer to the little cove. Soon they gain a full view of those cliffs where the sea-birds sit, tier upon tier, like spectators in a circus, and the calm air is filled with strange cries. Bee claps her hands in delight ”