would have minded--if we'd gone together."

"Ay--together, but, God be thanked, it did not come to that!"

They sat in silence for a time, finding themselves, while the green
seas swelled up to their feet, and sank out of sight below, and their
rock was laced with cascades of creamy foam.

"How shall we get back?" asked Margaret at last. "Hennie will be in
desperation. She will think we are drowned."

"We can climb the head and round into Grande Greve, but it would be
pretty rough on the feet. Or we can wait till the tide turns and swim
in again--"

"When will it turn?"

"It's full at noon," he said, studying the waters in front. "But how
that affects matters here none but a Sarkman could say. Tides here are
a law unto themselves, like the people."

"How would that do?" asked Margaret, as a black boat came slowly
round the rocks from Les Fontaines, sculled by an elderly fisherman.

"It is old Billy Mollet after his lobster-pots," and he stood up and
coo-eed to the new-comer, and waved his arms till Billy saw them and
stared hard and then turned leisurely their way.

"Guyablle!" said the old man, as he drew in. "What you doin' there
now?"

"Got carried out of Grande Greve by a current, Mr. Mollet. Will you
take us back in your boat?"

"Ay, ay!" and he brought the boat as near to the rock as he dared, and
his weather-stained old eyes settled hypnotically on the fairest
burden his old tub had ever carried, as Graeme handed her carefully
down and helped her to spring into the dancing craft, and then sprang
in himself with bleeding feet and shins, while Punch leaped lightly
after him and crawled under a thwart.

"Ye must ha' been well out for tide to catch ye," said Billy, with no
eyes for anything but the vision in clinging pink.

"Yes, we were too far out and couldn't get back."

"Tide runs round them rocks."

He dropped his oar into the rowlock and Graeme took the other, and in
five minutes they were speeding across the sands of Grande
Greve--Margaret to cover, Graeme to his pocket for Billy's reward.

Miss Penny had a driftwood fire roaring among the rocks, and the
kettle was boiling.

"Where on earth have you two been?" she cried, at sight of Margaret
skipping over the stones to her dressing-room, and got only the wave
of a white arm in reply.

And presently Graeme came along in easy piratical costume of shirt and
trousers and red sash, and sat down and lit a pipe.

"We went a bit farther than w