In this way, they journeyed up the steep ascent, talking very little
above a whisper, and wishing that the promontory was a dozen times
higher--at least, such was Fernando's wish--when they finally reached
the top and saw the two old men under the lee cliff listening to the
ocean's hollow roar.
Fernando carried a robe and some wraps for Morgianna, and he conducted
her to a sheltered spot below the first ledge of rocks, where he spread
a robe for her to sit on, and then, with loving fingers that thrilled
with each touch, adjusted the wraps about her shapely little shoulders.
For a long time they sat listening to the wild roar of the angry waters
below, gazing on the phosphorescent flashes, where the swelling waves
broke in crested splendor on the well-worn rocks.
He was first to break the silence.
"Miss Lane," he said, "had I known that Lieutenant Matson was your
personal friend, I would have suffered disgrace rather than
encountered him."
With a smile, she answered:
"It all turned out right. The lieutenant was scarcely injured at all."
"Have you heard of him?"
"I have heard from him," she answered, glancing slyly at Fernando from
the corners of her roguish eyes. "He wrote me a letter which I
received to-day."
Fernando felt a pain at his heart, but it was nothing to compare with
the shame and mortification which followed.
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