er of the grassy walk, between ground-ash and young larches, they
came upon an opening planted round with ilex, arbutus, juniper, and
laurel, and backed by one of the rocks which form the outworks of the
valley. From a niche in this rock, like the port-hole of a ship, a rill
of sparkling water poured, and beginning to make a noise already, cut
corner's--of its own production--short, in its hurry to be a brook, and
then to help the sea. And across its exit from the rock (like a measure
of its insignificance) a very comfortable seat was fixed, so that any
gentleman--or even a lady with divided skirts--might freely sit with one
foot on either bank of this menacing but not yet very formidable stream.
So that on the whole this nook of shelter under the coronet of rock was
a favourite place for a sage cock-pheasant, or even a woodcock in wintry
weather.

Upon that bench (where the Admiral loved to sit, in the afternoon of
peace and leisure, observing with a spy-glass the manoeuvres of his
tranquil fishing fleet) Caryl Carne was sitting now, with his long and
strong legs well spread out, his shoulders comfortably settled back, and
his head cast a little on one side, as if he were trying to compute his
property. Then, as Dolly came into the opening, he arose, made a bow
beyond the compass of any true Briton, and swinging his hat, came to
meet her. Dolly made a curtsey in the style impressed upon her by her
last governess but one--a French lady of exceedingly high ancestry and
manners--and Carne recognised it as a fine thing out of date.

"Jenny, get away!" said Dolly--words not meant for him to hear, but he
had grave command of countenance.

"This lays me under one more obligation:" Carne spoke in a low voice,
and with a smile of diffidence which reminded her of Scudamore, though
the two smiles were as different as night and day. "I have taken a great
liberty in asking you to come, and that multiplies my gratitude for
your good-will. For my own sake alone I would not have dared to sue this
great favour from you, though I put it so, in terror of alarming you.
But it is for my own sake also, since anything evil to you would be
terrible to me."

"No one can wish to hurt me," she answered, looking up at him bravely,
and yet frightened by his gaze, "because I have never harmed any one.
And I assure you, sir, that I have many to defend me, even when my
father is gone from home."

"It is beyond doubt. Who would not rush to do so?