tide to see the bathers. Therefore no opportunity seemed likely to present itself before evening for the promised introduction.
The afternoon proved fine, and we were cantering gaily along in the fresh breeze and sunshine, when another party appeared, advancing from the opposite direction, whom I knew to be Mrs. Sancy, her little daughter Isabelle, and the Kanaka servant. The child and servant were galloping hard, and passed us with a rush. But the lady seemed in a quieter mood, riding easily and carelessly, with an air of pre-occupation. Suddenly she too gave her horse whip and rein, and as she dashed past I heard her exclaim, "The quicksands! the quicksands!"
Instinctively we drew rein, turned, and followed. We rode hard for a few minutes, without overtaking her; then slackened our speed on seeing her come up with the child, and arrest the race which had so alarmed her.
"There are no quicksands in this direction;" was the first remark of Kittredge when we could speak.
"What should make her think so?"
"There were quicksands there a number of years ago, and by her manner she must have known it then."
"And by the same token," I replied, "she cannot have been here since the change."
"Who is she?"
"My friend, Mrs. Sancy."
"Where is she from?"
"From the quicksands;" I replied evasively, as I saw the lady approaching us.
"I fear you have shared my fright," she said, as soon as she came within speaking distance. "When I used to be familiar with these sands there was a dangerous spot out there; but I perceive time has effaced it, as he does so many things;" smiling, and bowing to my escort.
"There are some things time never effaces, even from the sands," returned Kittredge, growing visibly pale.
