ound a way out of this seeming impasse.
What is it?"

Leonie had twisted herself suddenly out of his arms, looked over her
shoulders and shivered.

"It is what I was telling you about, a sensation of someone standing
close behind me."

"It's nothing, Leonie, just imagination," said Jan Cuxson.

For how could he see a certain high caste native of India walking
slowly down the gangway from the great ship just docked at Tilbury, and
smiling inscrutably as he placed his foot in the country which held the
white woman he sought?

Leonie turned her head quickly, and shivered again, violently.

"It was just as though someone had called me," she said, speaking just
above a whisper.

"Look at me, dear!"

Leonie looked straight into the honest grey eyes, and the fear died out
of her own as she met the steady gaze.

"I'm slow, dear, dead slow, plodding I suppose they'd call me, but once
I'm on to something I never let go until I've won. Things are black,
sweetheart, but something is telling me that I shall find a way out.
When--when is----"

Leonie lied.

It was beyond her power of will to place a limit to her sudden newborn
happiness; she would not give a definite date, and relying on the
certainty that the man would never allow anyone to gossip to him about
the wedding, she lied--deliberately.

"Oh! there's _plenty_ of time, don't let's talk about it."

She sprang to her feet and flung out her arms to the sea.

"Let's forget, Jan, let's forget! Let's steal something from Fate and
be happy. Let's be friends, pals; we can't be anything else, because I
am in honour bound. And--and--I'm _so_ hungry "--she turned her
radiant, laughing face to him--"I'll race you to Barricane for tea."

She was off as she spoke, with Cuxson close behind. They jumped from
rock to rock, they slipped, they slithered, they splashed up to their
knees in pools and out again.

The man did not break the compact when he caught her in the shadow of
the wreck and drew her into the shelter of his arms.

"Pal!" he whispered. "Little pal!"

And she lay quite still until the thud of their hearts, caused by the
strenuous exercise, had given place to the stronger, steadier beat of
steadfast love; then she slipped down, ducked under his arms and was
away, and her laugh was caught by the wind and blown back to him as he
ran in hot pursuit.

CHAPTER XIX

"Write them upon the table of thine heart!"--_The Bible_.

Leonie's wrist