"Only this, that so sure as you've a wife at home, if you come to the
headland again I'll kill you; and if you're a man, you'll put up your
fists now."

"Oh, that's it? May I ask what you have to do with my wife, or with
Lizzie Pezzack?"

"Whose child is Lizzie's?"

"Not yours, is it?"

"You said so once; you told your wife so; liar that you were."

"Very good, my gentleman. You shall have what you want. Woa, mare!"
He led her up the beach and sought for a branch to tie his reins to.
The mare hung back, terrified by the swishing of the whipped boughs
and the roar of the gale overhead: her hoofs, as George dragged her
forward, scuffled with the loose-lying stones on the beach. After a
minute he desisted and turned on Taffy again.

"Look here; before we have this out there's one thing I'd like to
know. When you were at Oxford, was Honoria maintaining you there?"

"If you must know--yes."

"And when--when this happened, she stopped the supplies?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, I didn't know it. She never told me."

"She never told _me_."

"You don't say--"

"I do. I never knew it until too late."

"Well, now, I'm going to fight you. I don't swallow being called a
liar. But I tell you this first, that I'm damned sorry. I never
guessed that it injured your prospects."

At another time, in another mood, Taffy might have remembered that
George was George, and heir to Sir Harry's nature. As it was, the
apology threw oil on the flame.

"You cur! Do you think it was _that?_ And _you_ are Honoria's
husband!" He advanced with an ugly laugh. "For the last time, put up
your fists."

They had been standing within two yards of each other; and even so,
shouted at the pitch of their voices to make themselves heard above
the gale. As Taffy took a step forward George lifted his whip.
His left hand held the bridle on which the reluctant mare was
dragging, and the action was merely instinctive, to guard against
sudden attack.

But as he did so his face and uplifted arm were suddenly painted
clear against the darkness. The mare plunged more wildly than ever.
Taffy dropped his hands and swung round. Behind him, the black
contour of the hill, the whole sky welled up a pale blue light which
gathered brightness while he stared. The very stones on the beach at
his feet shone separate and distinct.

"What is it?" George gasped.

"A ship on the rocks! Quick, man! Will the mare reach to Innis?"

"She'll have t