CHAPTER VII

THE ISLAND Alaric climbed stiffly out of the cockpit, lifted out his children, and gave his hand to Eleuthera to help her emerge. Phroso ran hither and thither on the grass, pleased to be released from the confinement of the ’plane, while the baby stretched out his hands and gurgled. “We may as well have breakfast,” said Eleuthera. “Hand me the baskets. Let’s sit under this tree.” “What about a bathe first?” Alaric suggested, looking at the lake, from whose surface light vapour rose into the air. “I feel more like …