ier. She's a pretty
young lady, too," the man added. "Maybe you've seen her, sir."

Merefleet shook his head. He had heard her, and he had no desire to
improve his acquaintance with her.

"As pretty a young lady as you would wish to see," continued the
fisherman reflectively. "Wonderful, she is. 'Tain't often we get such a
picture in this here part of the country. Ever been to America, sir?"

"Just come home," said Merefleet.

"Are all the ladies over there as pretty as this one, I wonder?" said his
new acquaintance in an awed tone.

"She seems to have made a considerable impression," said Merefleet, with
a laugh. "What is the lady like?"

But the man's descriptive powers were not equal to his admiration. "I
couldn't tell you what she's like, sir," he said. "But she's that sort
of young lady as makes you feel you oughtn't to talk to her with your hat
on. Ever met that sort of lady, sir?"

Merefleet uttered a short laugh. The man's simplicity amused him.

"I can't say I have," he said carelessly. "Good-looking women are not
always the best sort, in my opinion."

"That's very true, sir," assented his companion thoughtfully. "There's my
wife, for instance. She's as good a woman as you'd find anywhere, but her
best friend couldn't call her handsome, nor even plain."

And Merefleet laughed again. The man's talk had diverted his thoughts.
The intolerable sense of desolation had been lifted from his spirit. He
began to feel he had been somewhat unnecessarily irritated by a very
small matter.

He lighted a cigar and presented one to his new friend. "I shall get you
to row me out for a couple of hours to-morrow," he said. "By the way, did
you ever know a man called Quiller who had some fishing craft in these
parts twenty years ago?"

The man beamed at the question. "That's my father, sir. He lives along
with my wife and the kids. Will you come and see him, sir? Oh, yes,
he's well and hearty. But he's getting on in years, is dad. He don't go
out with the luggers now. You'll come and see him, eh, sir?"

"To-morrow," said Merefleet, turning. "He will remember me, perhaps.
No, I won't give you my name. The old chap shall find out for himself.
Good-night."

And he began to saunter back towards his hotel.

The searchlight of a man-of-war anchored outside the harbour was flashing
over the shore as he went. He watched the long shaft of light with
half-involuntary attention. He noted in an idle way various details along