ing on and on, with the tender touch of the warm wind on his cheek, and the lulling plash of the green baby-waves in his ear, his eyes bent on the sand,—he had not noticed how far he was straying. Now, he began to look serious—first, because it is never pleasant to feel hungry when no food is to be had; and secondly, because he was very tired. And thirdly, because his Uncle May was very strict about coming late to meals, and might not let him have any dinner when he got home.
Paul grew more and more sober, and he was so much absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not see that he was no longer alone on the wide reach of shore. An elderly gentleman, dressed in an old-fashioned black suit, was standing at a little distance, leaning on a gold-headed cane, and watching the boy with a smile on his lips.
Paul's musings ended in a conviction
