"Let us go to Grande Terre to-morrow?" said Robert in a low voice.
"What shall we do there?"
"Climb up the hill to the old fort and look at the little wriggling gold
snakes, and watch the lizards sun themselves."
She gazed away toward Grande Terre and thought she would like to be
alone there with Robert, in the sun, listening to the ocean's roar and
watching the slimy lizards writhe in and out among the ruins of the old
fort.
"And the next day or the next we can sail to the Bayou Brulow," he went
on.
"What shall we do there?"
"Anything--cast bait for fish."
"No; we'll go back to Grande Terre. Let the fish alone."
"We'll go wherever you like," he said. "I'll have Tonie come over and
help me patch and trim my boat. We shall not need Beaudelet nor any one.
Are you afraid of the pirogue?"
"Oh, no."
"Then I'll take you some night in the pirogue when the moon shines.
Maybe your Gulf spirit will whisper to you in which of these islands the
treasures are hidden--direct you to the very spot, perhaps."
"And in a day we should be rich!" she laughed. "I'd give it all to you,
the pirate gold and every bit of treasure we could dig up. I think you
would know how to spend it. Pirate gold isn't a thing to be hoarded or
utilized. It is something to squander and throw to the four winds, for
the fun of seeing the golden specks fly."
"We'd share it, and scatter it together," he said. His face flushed.
They all went together up to the quaint little Gothic church of Our Lady
of Lourdes, gleaming all brown and yellow with paint in the sun's glare.
Only Beaudelet remained behind, tinkering at his boat, and Mariequita
walked away with her basket of shrimps, casting a look of childish ill
humor and reproach at Robert from the corner of her eye.