ied to look severe, but could not,--the strong vehemence
of the man shook her self-possession.

"Love him, yes!--but don't worship him," she said. "It's a mistake, Tom!
He's only a child, after all, and he might be taken from you."

"Don't say that!" and Tom suddenly gripped her by the arm. "For God's
sake don't say that! Don't send me away this morning with those words
buzzing in my ears!"

Great tears flashed into his eyes,--his face paled and contracted as
with acutest agony.

"I'm sorry, Tom," faltered Miss Tranter, herself quite overcome by his
fierce emotion--"I didn't mean----"

"Yes--yes!--that's right! Say you didn't mean it!" muttered Tom, with a
pained smile--"You didn't----?"

"I didn't mean it!" declared Miss Tranter earnestly. "Upon my word I
didn't, Tom!"

He loosened his hold of her arm.

"Thank you! God bless you!" and a shudder ran through his massive frame.
"But it's all one with the dark hour!--all one with the wicked tongue of
a dream that whispers to me of a coming storm!"

He pulled his rough cap over his brows, and strode forward a step or
two. Then he suddenly wheeled round again, and doffed the cap to Miss
Tranter.

"It's unlucky to turn back," he said, "yet I'm doing it,
because--because--I wouldn't have you think me sullen or ill-tempered
with _you_! Nor ungrateful. You're a good woman, for all that you're a
bit rough sometimes. If you want to know where we are, we've camped down
by Cleeve, and we're on the way to Dunster. I take the short cuts that
no one else dare venture by--over the cliffs and through the cave-holes
of the sea. When the old man comes down, tell him I'll have a care of
him if he passes my way. I like his face! I think he's something more
than he seems."

"So do I!" agreed Miss Tranter. "I'd almost swear that he's a gentleman,
fallen on hard times."

"A gentleman!" Tom o' the Gleam laughed disdainfully--"What's that? Only
a robber grown richer than his neighbours! Better be a plain Man any day
than your up-to-date 'gentleman'!"

With another laugh he swung away, and Miss Tranter remained, as already
stated, at the door of the inn for many minutes, watching his easy
stride over the rough stones and clods of the "by-road" winding down to
the sea. His figure, though so powerfully built, was singularly graceful
in movement, and commanded the landscape much as that of some chieftain
of old might have commanded it in that far back period of time when
mountain th