ered into
friendliness.

Bernel was a great fisherman. He could wheedle out rock-fish by the
dozen while envious miners sat about him tugging hopefully at empty
lines.

He had gone down one afternoon to the overhanging wooden slip at Port
Gorey, and had excellent sport, until a sudden shift of the wind to the
south-west began piling the waters into the gulf on an incoming tide.
Then he drew in his lines and sat dangling his legs for a few minutes,
before gathering up his catch and going home.

Nance saw him from the other headland and came tripping round to see how
he had fared.

"Bern," she cried, as she came up. "Tell that man he's not safe down
there. The waves are bad there sometimes."

"Hi, you!" cried Bernel, to a miner who had been watching his success
and had then climbed down seaward over the furrowed black ledges, hoping
to do better there. "Come back! It's not safe there."

But the fisherman, intent on his sport, either did not, or would not,
hear him.

"Oh, well, if you won't," said Bernel.

And then, without warning, a wave greater than any that had gone before
it, hurled itself up the rocks and came roaring over the black ledges
into the bay, and the man was gone.

Nance and Bernel had straightened up instantly at the sound of its
coming.

Their eyes swept the rocks, and caught a glimpse of the dark body
tumbling with the cascade of foam into Port Gorey.

"Oh, Bern!" cried Nance, with up-clasped hands.

But Bernel, loosing his belt and kicking off his breeches with a glance
at the derelict, launched himself clear of the pier with a shout. And
Nance, seeing the bulk of the man, and careless of everything but Bernel
who seemed so very small compared with him, threw off her sun-bonnet and
linen jacket, loosed a button, and was gone like a white flash after the
two of them.

Gard was in the assay office not far away. He heard the shout and ran
out just in time to see Nance go, and running to the slip he saw their
clothes lying and the meaning of it all.

Bern had hold of the miner by the collar of his coat, and was doing his
best with one hand to tow him to the shingle at the head of the gulf,
the almost drowned one splashing wildly and doing his utmost to get hold
of and drown his rescuer. Every now and again Bernel found it necessary
to let go in order to keep out of his way.

Nance swam steadily up and the sinking one made a frantic clutch at her.

"Lie quiet or you shall drown," she c