. "We will go under first!"

He trod the water for a moment while he scanned the expanse behind them.
"Go on," he begged of her; "I will catch you up: spare yourself as much
as you can."

His precaution was needless; nothing was to be seen on the still surface
of the sea, and, as the rock now screened the shore, it was impossible
to guess what might be taking place there. Presently he gained on her.

"Safe so far," he said. "Don't speak; float a little."

He caught the side of the life-belt she wore and swam out, drawing her
in the direction of the island. Some sailing boats fluttered across the
horizon, but their route lay in an opposite direction to that of the
swimmers, who had now left the rocks and were well in the open.
Gradually the St Malo coast grew more indistinct, and by degrees in
front of them the spikes that had represented Cezambre developed into
rocks. Then Leonie assembled her flagging forces and struck out with
renewed zest. The sun was going down, and a cool breeze came up behind
them and seemed to give them impetus and freshened courage. Before
twilight they had safely piloted themselves to shore.

As they rose from the depths he flung his arms round her with a sense of
ecstatic relief.

"Now, dearest, we must brave it out; go to the coastguard's hut,
and"--he pointed to an oilskin satchel which he had worn across his
shoulders--"buy him."

Leonie cast on her lover a glance of awe and pride and worship. He
seemed to be God and fairy tale miraculously combined. She believed
herself to be treading Elysium as they took their way to the humble
stone cabin occupied by the coastguard and his son, the only inhabitants
of the island. Her young brain reeled with the intoxication of freedom.
How much rosier than any she had before seen were the sea-pinks that
flowered their way; how surprisingly azure the common bluebells that
nodded and waved and seemed, as they passed, to be ringing chimes to
celebrate her happiness. And even the potatoes that grew in the little
garden plot where this coastguard Crusoe toiled, had they not a world of
wonder in their blossoms, in their golden eyes, which watched and
watched and glowed, as she believed, before the triumphant coming of
their Love?

A rude hobbledehoy of the St Malo peasant class opened the hut door and
stared. Then he said something in his opaque _patois_ which only Leonie
could elucidate. She had often imitated the vulgar of her race from
sheer _plai