"Your father is in no danger, my love. The canoes are waiting for him at the cape; I saw the lights as I passed."With that reply he drew her out of the hut and led her toward the sea. Not a breath of the breeze was now to be felt. The dead calm had returned--and the boat was too large to be easily managed by one man alone at the oars.
"The breeze may come again," he said. "Wait here, my angel, for the chance."As he spoke, the deep silence of the forest below them was broken by a sound. A harsh wailing voice was heard, calling:
"Aimata! Aimata!"
"My father!" she whispered; "he has missed me. If he comes here you are lost."She kissed him with passionate fervor; she held him to her for a moment with all her strength.
"Expect me at daybreak," she said, and disappeared down the landward slope of the cliff.
He listened, anxious for her safety. The voices of the father and daughter just reached him from among the trees. The Priest spoke in no angry tones; she had apparently found an acceptable excuse for her absence. Little by little, the failing sound of their voices told him that they were on their way back together to the Temple. The silence fell again. Not a ripple broke on the beach.
