out!_

I suppose the worry and strain of it all, the hot, stuffy, sleepless
night and the sudden shock at the last had tired me, for as I lay on
the beach, sheltered by the rock, with just enough of the warm sun at
my back for comfort, I went off into a doze and lost myself
completely. I may have slept two hours, and woke with that perfectly
definite sensation of some one's being by and staring at me that
disturbs one's deepest dreams.

Sitting Turk fashion on the sand near me was a beautiful young woman
with great deep set grey eyes and two braids of long dark hair, one
falling over either shoulder. Her skin was dark, nearly olive, and her
mouth was of that deep, dark red that has always seemed to me so much
more alluring than all the coral lips of poetry and convention. She
was oddly attired in a short, faded blue serge skirt and a dull red
jacket of the sort called at that sartorial epoch a "jersey." Tied
around the neck of this was a black silk handkerchief. Black
stockings, generously displayed, and worn white tennis shoes completed
her costume--a trying one, certainly, and, one would have supposed,
sufficiently prejudicial in my eyes, who have always had a confessed
preference for the charm of well-selected clothes, and a certain
critical judgment in that direction, I am told.

But Margarita would have moulded a suit of chain-armour, I believe, to
her personality. It was quite obvious that she wore no corset, for the
tight jersey clung to her round, firm bust and long, supple waist like
a glove. Her shoulders were, perhaps, a little shade squared, which
only added to the boyishness of the enchanting pose of her head, and
the loose handkerchief gave the last touch to the daintily hardy
fisher girl she seemed to have chosen for her masquerade. For there
was nothing of the peasant about her; race showed in every feature,
and the dim, toned colours of her faded clothes appeared the last
touch of realistic art.

"You must wake, now," she said gravely, "and tell me if you are
Jerry--are you?"

"Yes," I said, "I am. And you are----?"

"I am Margarita," she said. "Did you bring some one who knows how to
marry people? Roger said you would."

"I brought him--he's out there," I answered, pointing to the ocean
generally.

She followed my arm with interest in her eyes. "Oh! Is that where he
will do it?" she asked. "Roger did not tell me that. Is he swimming?"

"I think not," I answered seriously, "I think he is in