t of distant spray
and rain two or three brigantines or schooners could be dimly descried
labouring with the storm;--mysterious and awful sight as it always seems
to me. Will she get safe to port? What is her cargo? What her human
freight? What are they doing or thinking? What language do they speak?
Are there women or children aboard? Who knows? Ah, gentle reader, what
do you and I know of each other, and what do we know of even our nearest
friends; to what port are they struggling through the mists which envelop
them, and who will meet them on the shore?

An hour had not elapsed since Glenville had left Barton before the latter
had reached the first promontory of rocks which shut in the little bay of
Babbicombe, and on turning the corner found, as he had expected and
appointed, the young woman who had been the subject of their angry
conversation. She rose from a rock on which she had been sitting, and
came to meet him with a frank smile, saying, "Good afternoon, Mr. Henry."
Somehow the slightly coarse intonation struck him as it had never done
before, and the freedom of manner which a few hours ago would have
delighted him now sent a chilling sensation to his heart. "Good
afternoon," he replied, and, drawing his arm round her waist, he kissed
her several times, and held her so firmly that at last she said, "Oh,
sir, you'll hurt me. Let me go!" Then holding him away from her, and
looking him full in the face, she said, "Oh, Mr. Henry, whatever can be
the matter!" "Come and sit down, darling," he said, "I want to say
something to you." He led her to a seat upon the rocks, and they both
sat down. "Darling," he said, "I am afraid I must go away at once and
leave you for ever." "Oh, no, no, no! not that!" she cried, starting up.
In a moment her manner changed from fear to anger. "I know what it is!"
she exclaimed, "Hawkstone has been rude to you. There now, I will never
forgive him. I will never be friends with him again--never!"

"No, darling, it is nothing about Hawkstone at all. I haven't seen him.
But come here, you must be quiet and listen to what I have to say."

She sat down again beside him. Her lips quivered. Her blue eyes were
staring into the cliff in front of her, but she saw nothing, felt
nothing, except that a dreadful moment had come which she had for some
time dimly expected, but never distinctly foreseen.

"I hardly know how to tell you," he began. "You know I love you very
dearly,