If you get
tired, tell me," and they struck out vigorously on a shoreward slant
in the direction they were going.

There should have been a backwater round the corner of Vermandes. He
had counted on it. And there was one, but so swift was the rush of the
tide round the out-jutting rocks of La Joue, that for some minutes, as
they battled with the rough edge of it, it was touch and go with them.

At a word from her his arm would be at her service. But she fought
bravely on, and could admire Punch's graceful action even then. The
waves smacked her rudely in the face. Great writhing coils came
belching up from below and burst under her chin and almost swamped
her. One, as strong as a snake, rose suddenly under her, flung her off
her stroke, rolled her over, made her for a moment feel utterly
helpless.

"Jock!"

He had been watching her closely. His arm flashed out in front of her.

"Grip!" and she hung on to it and it felt like a bar of steel.

"Now!"--when she had recovered herself somewhat. "Grip the top of my
suit."--She hooked her fingers into it and he struck out through the
turmoil.

It was a tough little fight. She struck out vigorously behind to help
him. And, though the losing of the fight might mean tragedy and two
white bodies ragging forlornly along the black teeth of Little Sark,
she still had time to notice the mighty play of muscles in his back
and arms, and the swelling veins in his sunburnt neck, and the crisp
rippled hair above, and she rejoiced mightily in him. And--while
possible deaths lurked all about them--her soul grew large within her
at thought of the brave heart in front, and the strenuous will, and
the shapely body, and the powerful muscles--all battling for her--all
hers--and she theirs. What matter if they were beaten, if they but
went out together! What matter Death so long as he did not divide
them! So uplifted was she with the joy of him.

And then, with a final wrestle, they were in slack water, and she
loosed her hold and struck out alongside him.

And presently he was helping her carefully up a seamed black rock,
and the hand she gripped was shaking now, and she knew it was not for
himself.

"Thank God!" said Graeme fervently, as he sank down heavily beside
her, and panted while the water ran out of them, and Punch scrambled
up and lay quietly alongside. "Meg,--we were in peril."

"Jock," she said jerkily, for her heart was going now quicker than
usual, "I do not believe I