Perrowne, in the scow, which paddled off to try how the fishing
was at the narrows. The colonel did not care to fish; it was too dirty
work for him. Neither did the remaining ladies show any appetite for it;
but Mr. Errol and the veteran manned the lately constructed pier, and
beguiled some bass that came seeking shelter from the sun beneath it.
While the gentlemen were thus engaged, the colonel lying on his back
near Marjorie's fishing ground, indulging in a second cigar, the two
ladies strolled away, followed by Muggins, to look for more flowers.
After they had gone about a hundred yards to the right, the dog ran on
before them, barking furiously. Mrs. Carmichael clutched her companion's
arm and stood still. "It may be a wild beast, Cecile, or some of those
terrible men. Let us go back at once." But Miss Du Plessis calmly
answered, "It may be only a bird or a squirrel; dogs often make a great
fuss over very little." So they stood and waited.
Muggins' barking ceased. The reason was apparent in the sound of a
gentle voice they both knew, saying, "Poor Muggins, good doggie, has he
come back again to his old friends?" It was the voice of Matilda Nagle,
and she seemed to be alone.
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