en and
taken back into favour? And this same Louis Raincy had been with them at
the White Loch and had taken Patsy safe to his grandfather's at Castle
Raincy, the most sensible act of his life.

But after all Stair found much cause to be content. He possessed, if not
all he hoped for--at least he had Patsy, all to himself, and that by her
own choosing and good will. What signified a few conditions to the
bargain? He never could have dared to ask her, and she had asked him.
Therefore she had a right to dictate her terms. He would not again
behave like a sulky fool, as he had done on the first night of their
coming to the Isle. He knew better now.

He watched Patsy's quiet untroubled breathing, the slow droop and quick
recover of her eyelash as she grew a little drowsy. She pulled herself
up and dug her elbow into the sand so that her head might be supported.
Her eyes drooped again, but this time the eyelashes did not rise. The
arm bent into an adorable curve, and the head, heavy with sleep, finally
deposited itself on Stair's shoulder. With infinite delicate precautions
he drew a cloak over her and settled himself to watch the colour rise in
the cheek which he could see. He marked the crescent-shaped shadow of
the long, upturned eyelash, the lips exquisitely formed, but not too
small to be expressionless like your rosebud-mouthed women. She was his,
as the French say, "_en droit, mais pas encore en jouissance!_"

Still, nobody else could have her. That was the first and greatest
consideration, and with that firm in his mind Stair kept himself steady
till the sun was descending low in the sky of the west, and the
clamorous birds began to flock back to the island--sand-pipers peeping
in the hollows about the sheep-fold, gulls and guillemots squabbling on
the cliffs, and tarns restlessly dashing and swooping. For the tide was
coming up fast and would soon be at the full.

Then he saw something far out but coming nearer that made his heart leap
to his throat. He waited to make sure before awakening Patsy. But after
five minutes there could be no mistake. He must tell her.

"Dear," he said, and trembled at the word, lest she should have heard
it, "I am sorry to wake you, but there is a man swimming towards the
island!"

* * * * *

Patsy awoke, and in a moment was on her feet. Whether she had heard the
word or not, certain it was that she had grasped the meaning of the
sentence.

"Quick