s the Princess from her nest by the fire followed him with
eyes of canine expectancy and wistfulness. But he would as inevitably
return to his contemplation of the fire, and the Princess to her
blinking watchfulness of his face.

They had sat there silent and undisturbed for many an evening in fair
weather and foul. They had spent many a day in sunshine and storm,
gathering the unclaimed spoil of sea and shore. They had kept these mute
relations, varied only by the incidents of the hunt or meagre household
duties, for three years, ever since the man, wandering moodily over the
lonely sands, had fallen upon the half-starved woman lying in the little
hollow where she had crawled to die. It had seemed as if they would
never be disturbed, until now, when the Princess started, and, with the
instinct of her race, bent her ear to the ground.

The wind had risen and was rattling the tarred canvas. But in another
moment there plainly came from without the hut the sound of voices.
Then followed a rap at the door; then another rap; and then, before they
could rise to their feet, the door was flung briskly open.

"I beg your pardon," said a pleasant but somewhat decided contralto
voice, "but I don't think you heard me knock. Ah, I see you did not. May
I come in?"

There was no reply. Had the battered figurehead of the Goddess of
Liberty, which lay deeply embedded in the sand on the beach, suddenly
appeared at the door demanding admittance, the occupants of the cabin
could not have been more speechlessly and hopelessly astonished than at
the form which stood in the open doorway.

It was that of a slim, shapely, elegantly dressed young woman. A
scarlet-lined silken hood was half thrown back from the shining mass of
the black hair that covered her small head; from her pretty shoulders
dropped a fur cloak, only restrained by a cord and tassel in her small
gloved hand. Around her full throat was a double necklace of large white
beads, that by some cunning feminine trick relieved with its infantile
suggestion the strong decision of her lower face.

"Did you say yes? Ah, thank you. We may come in, Barker." (Here a shadow
in a blue army overcoat followed her into the cabin, touched its cap
respectfully, and then stood silent and erect against the wall.) "Don't
disturb yourself in the least, I beg. What a distressingly unpleasant
night! Is this your usual climate?"

Half graciously, half absently overlooking the still embarrassed sil