Jove, that
stag should sleep to-night under the waves on a coral bed. He deserves
it."

"Or, better still, swim out to Holmness and reign his last days there, a
solitary king."

The Parson shook his head as he gazed.

"They would be few and hungry ones, ma'am, on an island more barren than
Ithaca; no shady coverts, no young ash shoots to nibble, no turnip
fields to break into and spoil . . . Jove's is the better boon, by your
leave."

"And, by Jove, he has it! . . . Use your eyes, please; yours are better
than mine. For my part, I've lost him."

They sat erect in their saddles, straining their gaze over the sea.

"It's hard to say--looking straight here against the sun, and with all
this fog drifting about--"

But here a cry, breaking almost simultaneously from a score of riders,
drew his attention to the boat.

"Yes, the boat--they have ceased pulling. He must have sunk!"

"God rest his bones--if a Christian may say it."

"Why not, ma'am?"

But as he turned to her the lady turned also, bending down at a light
eager touch on her stirrup.

"Oh, ma'am! . . . Oh, Miss Sally!"

Miss Sally stared down into the small upturned face.

"Eh? . . . Now where in the world have I seen _you_ before? Why, mercy,
if it ain't the child Elphinstone ran over!"

CHAPTER XXII.

THE VOYAGE.

"_Many a green isle needs must be . . . _"--SHELLEY.

The boat had given up its search, and returned to shore. The hunt had
wound back up the coombe in a body, and thence homeward in the failing
light over the heather, breaking up into small parties as their ways
parted, and calling good nights after the best run of the season.
But Miss Sally and Parson Chichester sat talking in the best parlour at
Inistow, and still sat on while the level sunset shone blood-red through
the geraniums on the window-ledge, and faded and gave place to twilight.

They had heard the children's story; had turned it inside out and upside
down, cross-questioning them both; and had ended by dismissing them for
the time. To-morrow, Miss Sally promised, Farmer Tossell should be as
good as his word, and ride them over to Culvercoombe, where perhaps she
might have a few more questions to put to them. For the present she and
Mr. Chichester had enough to talk over.

The interview had lasted a good hour, and Arthur Miles was glad to
regain his liberty. The boy's manner had been polite enough, but
constrained. He had stripped and shown the mar