Then he knew that he must have been walking along one
of the spits of sand round which the flowing tide curved, and that if he
retraced his steps it might be to find the other end covered, besides
losing time.

The darkness confused him, and he stopped, hesitating for a few moments;
then, feeling that, whether the water deepened or receded, he must press
on, he drew a deep breath and moved forward, the tide soon rising to his
waist, and a wave nearly taking him off his legs.

Was it to be his fate to be drowned now at such a critical time, he
asked himself, there in sight of the light that might be shining from
the room which the woman he sought to save from suffering now occupied?

As this thought ran through his mind the waves rushed back with a hiss,
the water falling to his knees, and, making a dash forward he found that
he had passed the deepest part of the channel scooped by the tide in the
sand. Five minutes later he was on dry land, with the water streaming
from him, and soon after the light which had been his guide disappeared.

He rightly judged, though, that it must be from his having approached
nearer to the cliff; and, pressing on in spite of the darkness, he at
last reached it, but was unable to judge whether he was to right or left
of the cottage that he sought.

Once more he felt in despair, for he knew that time was gliding rapidly
by, and that by some means they ought to leave before day.

He was about to try off to the right when all at once he heard voices
above his head to the left, and, listening intently, he made out the
deep tones of the admiral, and an answer came in Guest's familiar voice.

"Is he telling him that I am here?" thought Stratton. No, for there was
a pleasant little laugh--Edie's; and the constriction at the listener's
heart was painful as he stood there thinking and wishing to hear the
voice of the woman he loved better than his life.

But the next who spoke was the admiral, and his words came distinctly to
where, with every nerve strained, Stratton stood rooted to the sands.

"Well, I'm sorry," said Sir Mark, "but we've plenty of time. We'll have
a sail another day, and a wander about the sands to-morrow. I'll
charter a boat at Saint Malo, and make her come round. Now, my dears,
in with you; it's getting late."

"My dears!" Then Myra was there all the time above where he stood; and
in the silence and darkness which surrounded him Stratton sank upon his
knees, an