nnounced Agnes a few minutes later, after she had
scrutinized each boat in turn, "and he won't be in for an hour yet. If
you like, we have time for a walk up the shore."

The sun slipped lower and lower in the creamy sky, leaving a trail of
sparkles that ran across the water and lost itself in the west. Sea
gulls soared and dipped, and tiny "sand peeps" flitted along the
beach. Just as the red rim of the sun dipped in the purpling sea, the
boats began to come in.

"Most of them will go around to the Point," explained Agnes, with a
contemptuous sweep of her hand towards a long headland running out
before them. "They belong there and they're a rough crowd. You don't
catch Young Si associating with the Pointers. There, he's getting up
sail. We'll just have time to get back before he comes in."

They hurried back across the dampening sand as the sun disappeared,
leaving a fiery spot behind him. The shore was no longer quiet and
deserted. The little spot where the fishing house stood had suddenly
started into life. Roughly clad boys were running hither and thither,
carrying fish or water. The boats were hauled up on the skids. A
couple of shaggy old tars, who had strolled over from the Point to
hear about Young Si's catch, were smoking their pipes at the corner of
his shanty. A mellow afterlight was shining over sea and shore. The
whole scene delighted Ethel's artist eyes.

Agnes nudged her companion.

"There! If you want to see Young Si," she whispered, pointing to the
skids, where a busy figure was discernible in a large boat, "that's
him, with his back to us, in the cream-coloured boat. He's counting
out mackerel. If you go over to that platform behind him, you'll get a
good look when he turns around. I'm going to coax a mackerel out of
that stingy old Snuffy, if I can."

She tripped off, and Ethel walked slowly over to the boats. The men
stared at her in open-mouthed admiration as she passed them and walked
out on the platform behind Young Si. There was no one near the two.
The others were all assembled around Snuffy's boat. Young Si was
throwing out the mackerel with marvellous rapidity, but at the sound
of a footstep behind him he turned and straightened up his tall form.
They stood face to face.

"Miles!"

"Ethel!"

Young Si staggered back against the mast, letting two silvery bloaters
slip through his hands overboard. His handsome, sunburned face was
very white.

Ethel Lennox turned abruptly and silentl