Some one stood in the bow, straight and strong and young, and as Judy watched in a half-dream, she remembered an opera she had seen once upon a time; where a knight in silver armor had come on the back of a silver swan to the lady he loved. She had hoped, mistily, that when she was old enough for such things, that Love might come to her like that—over the sea in silver armor, and sail away with her in a silver boat to the end of the world!
The boat came nearer, the boat with the silver sails! She stood up to watch, and as her slim figure was etched sharply against the background of white sand, there came to her upon the wings of the night the cry—
Her hand went to her heart. Was it real? Where did he come from, that youth in the silver boat. But even as she wondered, the cry went back to him, an answering cry, joyous, welcoming—
“Launcelot, oh, Launcelot.”
“HOME IS THE SAILOR FROM THE SEA”
Judy’s cry did not wake Tommy, and still in a half-dream she went down to the edge of the water and stood ghost-like in the moonlight, waiting. There was another figure in the boat, half-hidden by the shadowy sails, but it was Launcelot who, when the shallow water was reached, jumped out and waded to shore.
“Judy, Judy,” he said, as he came up to her, “I knew I should find you.”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “Where—where did you come from,” she whispered, while her white hands fluttered across his coat sleeve as if to see that he was real.
There was sympathy and tenderness in his boyish face, but seeing her condition, he spoke cheerfully. “I came down to The Breakers after Tommy. His mother was ill, and his father had to stay with her, so they sent me. And when I got there I found Anne and—and—” he checked himself hurriedly, “I found Anne almost frantic because you had gone, and then when she found your note I started out, for I knew I should find you, Judy. I knew I should sail straight to you.”
For one little moment as they stood together in the moonlight, he looked down at her with the eyes of the lover he was to be, but as yet they were only boy and girl and the moment passed.
“Where’s Tommy?” asked Launcelot, coming out of his dream.
He was answered by a shout as Tommy came plunging over the sand.
“Why didn’t you wake me, Judy?” he complained, bitterly, “when you first saw the boat.”
“Stop that,” commanded Launcelot. “Why weren’t you keeping watch? What kind of sailor do you call yourself, Tommy?”
“Oh, well,” Tommy excused, “I was sleepy.”
“And so you let a girl watch,” was Launcelot’s hard way of putting it, and Tommy’s eyes shifted.
“Oh, well,” he began again.
“I made him let me watch, Launcelot,” Judy interrupted, feeling sorry for the small boy, “and I told him to go to sleep.”