ty more than most of the
invited guests, and far more than the disconsolate Eddie, had left his
vantage point at the window. He had suddenly become aware of a strange
light stealing under the trees, and, looking up, he saw with
surprise that the stars were growing small and the heavens turning
steel-color--in fact, that it was dawn.

Convinced that sunrise was a finer sight than the end of the grandest
ball that ever was given, he made his way down a shabby back lane,
and before long came out on the edge of the cliffs, with the whole
panorama of sunrise over the Atlantic spread out before him.

He stood there a moment, somebody's close, well-kept lawn under his
feet, and a pale-pink sea sucking in and out on the rocks a hundred
feet below. The same hot, red sun was coming up; there wasn't a steady
breeze, but cool salt puffs came to him now and then with a breaking
wave. It was going to be a hot day, and Ben liked swimming better than
most things in life. He hesitated.

If he had turned to the left, he would have come presently to a public
beach and would have had his swim conventionally and in due time. But
some impulse told him to turn to the right, and he began to wander
westward along the edge of the cliffs--always on his left hand, space
and the sea, and on his right, lawns or gardens or parapets crowned
by cactus plants in urns, and behind these a great variety of
houses--French chateaux and marble palaces and nice little white
cottages, and, finally, a frowning Gothic castle. All alike seemed
asleep, with empty piazzas and closed shutters, and the only sign of
life he saw in any of them was one pale housemaid shaking a duster out
of a window in an upper gable.

At last he came to a break in the cliffs--a cove, with a beach in it,
a group of buildings obviously bathing-houses. The sacredness of this
pavilion did not occur to Ben; indeed, there was nothing to suggest
it. He entered it light-heartedly and was discouraged to find the door
of every cabin securely locked. The place was utterly deserted. But
Ben was persistent, and presently he detected a bit of a garment
hanging over a door, and, pulling it out, he found himself in
possession of a man's bathing suit. A little farther on he discovered
a telephone room unlocked. Here he undressed and a minute later was
swimming straight out to sea.

The level rays of the sun were doing to the water just what the
headlights of the motors had done to the road; they w