had died down, but a good bed of
coals remained; and upon this the young man expertly built up a new
fire. It crackled and blazed into life, throwing a ruddy glow over the
shingle, the rocks behind, and the figure lying on the balsam couch.
James's face was waxen in its paleness, save for two fiery spots on his
cheeks; and as he lay he stirred constantly in a feverish unrest. His
bare feet were nearest the fire; his blue woollen trousers and shirt
were only partly visible, being somewhat covered by a man's tweed coat.

The fire lighted up, also, the figure of Agatha Redmond. She was
kneeling at the farther end of Jim's couch, laying a white cloth, which
had been wet, over his temples. Her long dark hair was hanging just as
it had dried, except that it was tied together low in the back with a
string of slippery seaweed. Her neck was bare, her feet also; her
loose blouse had lost all semblance of a made-to-order garment, but it
still covered her; while a petticoat that had once been black satin
hung in stiff, salt-dried creases from her waist to a little below her
knees. She had the well-set head and good shoulders, with deep chest,
which make any garb becoming; her face was bonny, even now, clouded as
it was with anxiety and fatigue. She greeted the young man eagerly on
his return.

"If you could only find a little more fresh water, I am sure it would
help. The milk was good, only he would take so little. I think I
shall have to let you go this evening to hunt for the farm-house."

"Yes, Mademoiselle," the young man replied. He had wanted to go
earlier in the day, but the man was too ill and the woman too exhausted
to be left alone. He went on speaking slowly, after a pause. "I can
find the farm-house, I am sure, only it may take a little time.
Following the cattle would have been the quickest way; but I can find
the cowpath soon, even as it is. If you wouldn't be uneasy with me
gone, Mademoiselle!"

"Oh, no, we shall be all right now, till you can get back!" As she
spoke, Agatha's eyes rested questioningly on the youth who, ever since
she had revived from her faint of exhaustion, had teased her memory.
He had seen them struggling in the sea, and had swum out to her aid,
she knew; and after leaving her lying on a slimy, seaweed-covered rock,
he had gone out again and brought in her companion in a far worse
condition than herself. The young man, also, was a survivor of the
_Jeanne D'Arc_, having come f