apped,
shaken, and reviled, for the enormity of her offence, until, in an
acute nervous crisis, she wrenched herself out of her mother's
clutches, and sprang over into the harbour. It was high-water happily,
and Count Gustav Bartahlinsky, who was just going out in his yacht,
saw her drop, and fished her out with a boat-hook.

"Look here, young woman," he said, "what do you mean by tumbling about
like this? I shall have the trouble of turning back and putting you on
shore."

"No, don't; no, don't," Beth pleaded. "Take me along with you."

He looked at her an instant, considering, then went to the side of the
yacht, and called up to her frantic mother: "She's all right. I'll
have her dried, and bring her back this afternoon,"--with which
assurance Mrs. Caldwell was obliged to content herself, for the yacht
sailed on; not that she would have objected. Beth and Count Gustav
were sworn allies by this time, and Mrs. Caldwell knew that Beth could
not be in better hands. Beth had seen Count Gustav passing their
window a few days after their first meeting, and had completed her
conquest of him by tearing out, and running down Orchard Street after
him with nothing on her head, to ask what copyright was; and since
then they had often met, and sometimes spent delightful hours
together, sitting on the cliffs or strolling along by the sea. He had
discovered her talent for verse-making, and given her a book on the
subject, full of examples, which was a great joy to her. When the
yacht was clear of the harbour, he took her down to the saloon, and
got out a silk shirt. "I'm going to leave you," he said, "and when I'm
gone, you must take off all your things, and put this shirt on. Then
tumble into that berth between the blankets, and I'll come back and
talk to you." Beth promptly obeyed. She was an ill-used heroine now,
in the hands of her knightly deliverer, and thoroughly happy.

When Count Gustav returned, he was followed by Gard, a tall, dark,
handsome sailor, a descendant of black Dane settlers on the coast, and
for that reason commonly called Black Gard. He brought sandwiches,
cakes, and hot tea on a tray for Beth. She had propped herself up with
pillows in the berth, and was looking out of an open port-hole
opposite, listening enraptured to the strains of the band, which,
mellowed by distance, floated out over the water.

"What a radiant little face!" the Count thought, as he handed her the
tea and sandwiches.

Beth took t