y and swim for it. This--for Geoffrey was a man of determined
mind--he decided to do, and had already taken off his coat and waistcoat
to that end, when suddenly some sort of a boat--he judged it to be a
canoe from the slightness of its shape--loomed up in the mist before
him. An idea struck him: the canoe or its occupant, if anybody could be
insane enough to come out canoeing in such water, might fetch the curlew
and save him a swim.

"Hi!" he shouted in stentorian tones. "Hullo there!"

"Yes," answered a woman's gentle voice across the waters.

"Oh," he replied, struggling to get into his waistcoat again, for the
voice told him that he was dealing with some befogged lady, "I'm sure
I beg your pardon, but would you do me a favour? There is a dead curlew
floating about, not ten yards from your boat. If you wouldn't mind----"

A white hand was put forward, and the canoe glided on towards the bird.
Presently the hand plunged downwards into the misty waters and the
curlew was bagged. Then, while Geoffrey was still struggling with his
waistcoat, the canoe sped towards him like a dream boat, and in another
moment it was beneath his rock, and a sweet dim face was looking up into
his own.

Now let us go back a little (alas! that the privilege should be peculiar
to the recorder of things done), and see how it came about that Beatrice
Granger was present to retrieve Geoffrey Bingham's dead curlew.

Immediately after the unpleasant idea recorded in the last, or, to be
more accurate, in the first chapter of this comedy, had impressed itself
upon Beatrice's mind, she came to the conclusion that she had seen
enough of the Dog Rocks for one afternoon. Thereon, like a sensible
person, she set herself to quit them in the same way that she had
reached them, namely by means of a canoe. She got into her canoe safely
enough, and paddled a little way out to sea, with a view of returning
to the place whence she came. But the further she went out, and it was
necessary that she should go some way on account of the rocks and the
currents, the denser grew the fog. Sounds came through it indeed, but
she could not clearly distinguish whence they came, till at last, well
as she knew the coast, she grew confused as to whither she was heading.
In this dilemma, while she rested on her paddle staring into the dense
surrounding mist and keeping her grey eyes as wide open as nature would
allow, and that was very wide, she heard the report of a g