Beauregard. "I speak as a bachelor, but in my experience there is a
half-hour before lunch in which that man is best appreciated who
makes himself scarce. Captain Branscome, if you will not mind a
short scramble over the rocks here, to the left, I can promise you
something worth seeing."
He led the way at once, and we followed, the Captain (who appeared
to have lost his temper again) growling that he took no stock in
views. But the distance was not far. We scrambled over two low
ledges of rock and found ourselves looking down upon a beach even
prettier and more fairy-like than the one we had left--and upon
something more--a ship's boat, drawn about thirty feet above
high-water, and resting there on her side.
"Yours?" asked Captain Branscome, after a long stare at her.
"Certainly not," answered Dr. Beauregard. "And that is why I brought
you here."
CHAPTER XXX.
THE SCREAM ON THE CLIFF.
"A boat?" said Captain Branscome, staring again, and slowly rubbing
the back of his head.
He took a step forward, to descend to the beach and examine her, but
Dr. Beauregard laid a hand on his arm.
"Not so fast, my friend! _Qui dit canot dit canotier_--a glance will
assure you that she did not beach herself in that position, above
high-water mark, still less furl her own sail and stow it.
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