h grass, and the white line
of the beach, which even the darkest night can never hide, lay clear
before me. A high surf was running, and beyond it I could see three
lights, blinking fitfully in the black and nearer on the white sand was
the shadow of a fishing boat, pulled just above the tide mark. A minute
later Brutus came running toward us.

My father was evidently used to such small matters. Indeed, the whole
affair seemed such a part of his daily life as to demand nothing unusual.
He glanced casually at the waves and the boat, tossed off his cloak on
the sand, carefully wrapped his pistols inside it, and placed the bundle
carefully beneath a thwart.

"The rocket, Brutus," said my father. "If you will get in, Mademoiselle,
we will contrive to push you through the breakers. Best take your coat
off, my son, and place it over the pistols."

XV

Brutus had evidently kept a slow match burning, for with a sudden flare a
rocket flashed into the wind. In the momentary glare of the light I could
see my father, his lips pressed together more tightly than usual, but
alertly courteous as ever, helping Mademoiselle over the side, and there
was Brutus grinning at me. Then the light died, and my father continued
giving his directions.

"Stand by Master Henry at the stern, Brutus. I shall stay here amidships.
Now into the water when I give the word. Pray do not be alarmed,
Mademoiselle. There is quite nothing to bother."

A breaker crashed down on the beach ahead of us.

"Now!" he shouted, and a moment later we were up to our waists in water
that was stinging in its coldness.

"Get aboard," said my father. "The oars, Brutus."

Drenched and gasping, I pulled myself over the side just as we topped a
second wave. My father was beside me, as bland and unconcerned as ever.

"You see, Mademoiselle," he said, "we are quite safe. The _Sea Tern_ is
standing in already. While Brutus is rowing, my son, we had better load
the pistols."

"Surely we are through with them," I said. The boat was tossing wildly,
and Brutus was using all his strength and skill to keep it in the wind.

"Still," said my father, kneeling on the grating beside me, "let us load
them. Look, Henry, I think we got off in very good time."

A knot of horsemen were galloping down the beach we had just quitted.

"They must have taken the old wagon road," he said. "I had thought as
much. It becomes almost tiresome, this running away."

He reached for hi