Montesma came to her every now and then to explain
what was being done; and by-and-by, when the canvas was all up, and the
yacht was skimming over the water, like a giant swan borne by the
current of some vast strong river, he came and stayed by her side, and
they two sat making little baby sentences in Spanish, he as teacher and
she as pupil, with no one near them but the sailors.
The owner of the _Cayman_ had disappeared mysteriously a quarter of an
hour after the sails were unfurled, and Lady Kirkbank had tottered down
to the saloon.
'I am not going--cabin,' she faltered, when Lesbia remonstrated with
her, 'only--going--saloon--sofa--lie down--little--Smithson take
care--you,' not perceiving that Smithson had vanished, 'shall be--quite
close.'
So Lesbia and Don Gomez were alone under the summer stars, murmuring
little bits of Spanish.
'It is the only true way of learning a language,' he said; 'grammars are
a delusion.'
It was a very delightful and easy way of learning, at any rate. Lesbia
reclined in her bamboo chair, and fanned herself indolently, and watched
the shadowy shores of the island, cliff and hill, down and wooded crest,
flitting past her like dream-pictures, and her lips slowly shaped the
words of that soft lisping language--so simple, so musical--a language
made for lovers and for song, one would think.
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