THE LIGHTHOUSEthings under his breath, which Macalister andMacalister’s boy would overhear, and they wouldboth be made horribly uncomfortable. He had madethem come. He had forced them to come. In theiranger they hoped that the breeze would never rise,that he might be thwarted in every possible way,since he had forced them to come against their wills.

All the way down to the beach they had laggedbehind together, though he bade them "Walk up,walk up," without speaking. Their heads were bentdown, their heads were pressed down by some re-morseless gale. Speak to him they could not. Theymust come; they must follow. They must walk be-hind him carrying brown paper parcels. But theyvowed, in silence, as they walked, to stand by eachother and carry out the great compact—to resisttyranny to the death. So there they would sit, oneat one end of the boat, one at the other, in silence.They would say nothing, only look at him now andthen where he sat with his legs twisted, frowningand fidgeting, and pishing and pshawing and mut-tering things to himself, and waiting impatiently fora breeze. And they hoped it would be calm. Theyhoped he would be thwarted. They hoped the wholeexpedition would fail, and they would have to putback, with their parcels, to the beach.

But now, when Macalister’s boy had rowed a little243
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