lower terrace of the village. He groped his way
about, pausing frequently to peer and hearken. From one cabin came the
sound of a child crying angrily, from another the harsh coughing of some
very old person, and from still another the whining of a dog. He moved
to the left, feeling his way gingerly between the humble dwellings. A
lighted window caught his attention, and then a man's voice, with a
whimsical drawl and twang to it, raised in song.

"Her eyes were like the sea in June,
Her lips was like a rose,
Her voice was like a fairy bell
A-ringin' crost the snows.
Then Denny, he forgot the wrack,
Forgot the waves a-rollin',
For she had put the witchy spell
On Skipper Dennis Nolan,"

sang the voice behind the blurred yellow square of the window.

Darling approached the window on tip-toe and peered through the dripping
glass. He saw that the vocalist was a long, thin fellow, with long, thin
whiskers and a wooden leg, seated in a chair by a glowing stove. Two
candles in tarnished brass sticks, a fiddle and bow, and a glass half
full of red liquor that steamed, were on the corner of the deal table at
his elbow. Beside him stood a young woman, long limbed, deep breasted,
with a comely face that suggested cheeriness, but was now drawn and
shadowed a little round the mouth and eyes with an expression of care.
But it was a good face, trustworthy, kind and wise; and the man at the
window trusted it the moment he saw it.

"I'll risk it," he muttered. "The old man looks harmless enough--and I
might stumble around here until the fog lifts or the skipper gets back,
without so much as a word with Flora, at this rate."

He withdrew from the window and slid quietly along the wall of the cabin
until he found the door. He pulled the glove from his right hand and
rapped on the wet planks with his bare knuckles. The voice of the man
with the wooden leg stopped dead in the middle of a line and shouted,
"Come in." Darling lifted the latch, pushed the door half open, and
stepped swiftly into the lighted room, closing the door smartly behind
him. The man and the girl stared at him in astonishment. He removed his
dripping cap from his head.

"Can you tell me where I can find Miss Flora Lockhart?" he asked.

The man gasped at that, and the girl's gray eyes brightened. The girl
stepped forward, placed a strong, eager hand on his arm and gazed into
his face without apology or embarrassment. Darling retu