e to keep her
tryst. And there, standing amid the rushes on the lakeside, he found
her. They had so much to say to each other that Margaret forgot her
father's return, and delayed so long that she thought it best to go
straight home, instead of walking down the beach to meet him.

He generally left Stromness about half-past eight, and his supper was
laid for nine o'clock. But this night nine passed, and he did not
come; and though the delay could be accounted for in various ways, she
had a dim but anxious forecasting of calamity in her heart. The
atmosphere of the little parlor grew sorrowful and heavy, the lamp did
not seem to light it, her father's chair had a deserted, lonely
aspect, the house was strangely silent; in fifteen minutes she had
forgotten how happy she had been, and wandered to and from the door
like some soul in an uneasy dream.

All at once she heard the far-away shouting of angry and alarmed
voices, and to her sensitive ears her lover's and her father's names
were mingled. It was her nature to act slowly; for a few moments she
could not decide what was to be done. The first thought was the
servants. There were only two, Hacon Flett and Gerda Vedder. Gerda had
gone to bed, Hacon was not on the place. As she gathered her energies
together she began to walk rapidly over the springy heath towards the
white sands of the beach. Her father, if he was coming, would come
that way. She was angry with herself for the _if_. Of course he was
coming. What was there to prevent it? She told herself, Nothing, and
the next moment looked up and saw two men coming towards her, and in
their arms a figure which she knew instinctively was her father's.

She slowly retraced her steps, set open the gate and the door, and
waited for the grief that was coming to her. But however slow her
reasoning faculties, her soul knew in a moment what it needed. It was
but a little prayer said with trembling lips and fainting heart; but
no prayer loses its way. Straight to the heart of Christ it went. And
the answer was there and the strength waiting when Ragon and Hacon
brought in the bleeding, dying old man, and laid him down upon his
parlor floor.

Ragon said but one word, "Stabbed!" and then, turning to Hacon, bid
him ride for life and death into Stromness for a doctor. Most sailors
of these islands know a little rude surgery, and Ragon stayed beside
his friend, doing what he could to relieve the worst symptoms.
Margaret, white and