ave distinguished Valmai from any other girl,
and what more natural than that one of the women living on the island
should be crossing the Rock Bridge.

"I must be a fool to have nervous fears like a silly girl. I daresay I
shall meet Valmai on the shore."

But he sought in vain for any sign of her, as she had sought him in the
morning. Indeed it was not likely that any tender girl would be out in
such a storm--and yet--"was it Valmai?"

The thought _would_ come, the fear would haunt him. He was surprised
to find himself overtaken by a woman.

"Dir, dir, what a storm," she remarked as she passed, hurried on her
way by the driving wind.

One or two of Cardo's long steps brought him up with her.

"Don't you come from Ynysoer?" he said. "I think I know your face."

"Yes, gwae fi![3] that I had got safe back again, but my mother is
ill," she shouted, as the wind carried her words away, "and I must stay
with her till tomorrow, no one could go back over the Rock Bridge
to-night; though, indeed, I met a young girl crossing--"

"Had she a red cloak?" asked Cardo.

"Yes. She was Essec Powell's niece, and if she tries to come back
to-night I wouldn't give much for her life."

"Here we part--good-bye," said Cardo.

"Nos da, Ser," said the woman, but her voice was drowned by the roar of
the wind.

"It was Valmai! I knew it was! Why did I not take my boat at once?
Now it is too late; and yet," he thought, "she cannot come till the
tide is low. I may get there in time. Surely she would not attempt to
cross the bridge yet?"

For the rest of the evening Cardo paced restlessly over the beach,
buffeted by the strong wind, wetted by the spray, but still watching
narrowly the bridge of rocks, which connected the island with the
mainland. He knew for a certainty that Valmai was there, and he
watched with intense interest the darkening island, over which the
storm gathered with increasing fury. His plan was to wait until the
tide went down, and then to cross the bridge himself, so as to help
Valmai, or to prevent her attempting to return.

After several hours' waiting in the shelter of the cliff, he saw by his
watch, which he was able to decipher by occasional gleams of moonlight,
that it was near upon nine o'clock. The moon was hidden at intervals
by heavy storm-clouds, which were hurrying before the wind; but when
her light shone out fitfully, it disclosed a scene of wild confusion;
the horizon was as black as