would have found all this because God
had so ordered life that it is adaptable, making the defensive and
offensive qualities of the being capable of increase or decrease in
answer to environment or need.

She came back to the beach. It wanted, still, a couple of hours of
sun-down. There was no sign yet of La Touche, but, just as she knew in
her heart that Bompard was dead she knew that La Touche was all right.
He had been keeping to the rocks by the sea, leaving that aside; she
knew that he would come back. He was of the sort that remains unscathed
when the better man is taken.

She had one dread; that La Touche might get the knife from her, throw it
away, and be master by his superior strength.

She had his clasp knife in her pocket, but it was a thing of little
account in a struggle. Well, she must be on her guard. Then came the
thought: "But how can I be on my guard when I am asleep?"

Nothing would be easier, if he were really in earnest, than for him to
creep upon her whilst she slept, and disarm her.

She tried to dismiss this idea. La Touche was not crafty enough for that
and, besides, would he go to the lengths of a physical struggle? He had
been on the point of hitting her, it was true, but that was in a moment
of excitement. Was she not painting him in too desperate colours?

Argue as she would on the question, reason, instinctive reason, always
came back with the same answer: "Be on your guard, that knife is the
only barrier between you and heaven knows what. Without it you would be
at the mercy of a superior force. La Touche is no melodramatic villain;
he is, what is perhaps worse for you, a creature of low instincts,
stronger than you. Beware of being at his mercy."

With her mind filled by these thoughts she set to work getting supper
ready. La Touche had taken the tinder box with him, so a fire was out of
the question and she contented herself by laying out the beef that had
served for dinner, and some biscuits.

Then she saw that she had only laid two plates. Working
half-unconsciously she had ruled Bompard out. She looked at the things
lying there on the sand, then she turned away from them. La Touche had
crossed the rocks and was coming along the beach. He was trailing a long
ribband of seaweed he had picked up and as he drew closer she saw that
he had left his ill-humor behind him.

"There was no sight of Bompard," said he, "he has not come back, then?"

"Bompard will not come back," repli