rappings in an absent manner as he went along; but he
forgot the plastered nose, and was taken to task about it by his
comrades.

"Why, wherever did you get the stickin'-plaster?" asked David Bowers, an
Anglo-Saxon much like himself in form and size, only that his locks and
beard were yellow instead of dark brown.

"From a friend," replied Jeff.

"A female friend?" asked Bowers, with a sly glance.

"Yes," replied Jeff, so promptly, and with a look of such benignity,
that the Anglo-Saxon felt constrained to give up his intended badinage.

That night curiously enough, Rose and Jeff were beset by dreams exactly
similar in kind, though slightly modified in form. Both were in the
midst of howling blasts and raging billows; but while the one was saving
a fair and slender girl in circumstances of great but scorned risk, the
other was being rescued by a young giant with a brown beard, in a style
the most heroic, and in the midst of dangers the most appalling.

Next day, when Jeff--having got rid of the nose-plaster, and removed the
mud, and brushed the dishevelled hair, and put on dry garments--paid
another visit to Miss Millet, the Rosebud formed a more correct estimate
of her condition, became alarmed, and shrank like a sensitive plant
before the gaze of the coastguardsman; insomuch that she drove him to
the conclusion that he had no hope whatever in that quarter, and that he
was foolish to think of her seriously. What _was_ she, after all? A
mere chit of a school girl! It was ridiculous. He would heave her
overboard forthwith, and trouble his head no more about her. He would
not, however, give up visiting his old confidante on _her_ account--oh
dear, no!

It was wonderful what an amount of guarding seemed to be required by the
coast in the vicinity of Miss Millet's cottage during the following
week! Any one observing the frequency of Jeff's visits to it, and his
prolonged earnest gazing at the sea, would have imagined that the
ancient smuggling days had revived, or that the old tendency of the
French to suddenly come o'er and find the Britons awaiting them on
shore, was not yet extinct.

One evening our hero, after paying a little unwonted attention to his
toilet prepared to set out for Miss Millet's cottage. He had obtained
leave of absence for the evening, and had made up his mind to spend an
hour or two in metaphysical discussion. Rose had not yet left her aunt
but no matter. If she could not assist in