igh water, and at low tide any
damage she might have suffered had been attended to. Her injury must
have been more vexatious than serious. Would she, as the darky had
affirmed, leave when the tide was once more at its full? Her lying in
the outer, instead of in the inner harbor, seemed significant. Time
passed; the person on the platform regained the deck and disappeared. In
the bushes the watcher suddenly started.

Something at one of the port windows had caught his glance. A ribbon? A
fluttering bit of lace? A woman's features that phantom-like had come
and vanished? He looked hard--so steadily that spots began to dance
before his sight, but he could not verify that first impression. Yet he
remained. The shadows on the furze grew longer, falling in strange
angular shapes down the hillside; the sun dipped low. At length Mr.
Heatherbloom, after the manner of one who had made up his mind to
something, abruptly rose.

He walked back toward the cove where he had disembarked. As he drew near
the darky caught sight of him, pulled up "anchor" and paddled his boat
to the shore. But Mr. Heatherbloom did not at once get in; his eyes
rested on the bushel or so of freshly caught, bubble-blowing crabs. He
strove to appear calm and matter-of-fact.

"What do you expect to get for them?" he asked, pointing.

"'Bout fifty cents de dozen, boss. Crab market ain't what it ought ter
be jest now."

"Why don't you try to sell them to the yacht over there?" Mr.
Heatherbloom managed to speak carelessly but it was a difficult task.

"Jest becos she is 'over there', boss," returned the darky lazily.
"Mighty swift tide sweeping around de head of dat island!" he
explained.

"And you don't like rowing against it?" Quickly. "See here, I'll tell
you what I'll do. I like a bit of exercise, and just for the gamble,
I'll give you sixty cents a dozen for the lot, and keep all I can get
over that. The owner of that craft is a Russian and all Russians like
sea food. When they can't get caviar, they'll no doubt make a bid for
crabs."

"Dat sounds like berry good argumentation, boss. Make it
seventy"--avarice struggling on the dusky countenance--"an'--"

"Done!" said Mr. Heatherbloom, endeavoring to disguise the fierce
eagerness welling within him. "Here's on account!" Tossing his last bill
to the other. "And now, get out. It'll be easier pulling without you."

The darky grinned and obeyed. This was a strenuous passenger truly, not
averse to sti