The Admiral's Daughter

coast, and the village and harbour of Garth ha

cult to bear. There were plenty of other fisher lads minded to console her, their offers backed by her mother's patronage; but Charity was not a person who could easily change her affections. She kept as much as possible out of sight of the quay with its ch

y down towards the village. Then, acting on an idle fancy, she turned to her brother's boat that was moored close to the cottage,

mist which was already rising and falling a little in the slight easterly breeze. Again came the glimpse of the shrouded figure, more easily seen this time, and the watcher nodded grimly as she recognised the trotting gait. She made a swift calculation; realised that if she drove her boat in straight to the shore she would run into the arms, so to speak, of the lonely walker.

could live in Garth and not know the stories that ran to and fro concerning 'Mademoiselle,' who was disliked partly for her nationality and partly for herself. Charity, loyal and devoted to the Admiral and to her beloved Mistress Marion, and a degree or two removed from her kind, was

suddenly found very ailing (all this with Victoire's handkerchief to her eyes); and Victoire, seized with contrition on realising that she had not seen her parent fo

had told this sad story, ''tis more likely tha

ating a piece of pie fresh from Victoire's ha

ing across?'

Plymouth who sent her word, awaiti

et un land,'

eart you'm getting, my maid, and a black life you'll have. A'd have more pride no

s blazing, 'will 'ee be quiet now, M

keeping her eye on the blurred figure every now and then revealed in the mi

over the shoulder of the hill at the river mouth, out of sight, as she evidently

range boat, in the fitful moonlight, make for the rocky mouth, and others had seen the French girl, or her woman, creep into the cove, nothing would tempt them into its wrack-strewn caverns. 'The devil had made his bed there,' they said, 'and 'twas best shunned.'

sible for strong limbs and a stout heart. She knew that with good fortune she would arrive a

all the superstitions of Garth. But having set herself to it, she went on. Moreover,

the holy book. 'Once and for all I'll be knowing. For Mistr

would stand together before the parson; and Charity, thus drawn to remembering hap

beach. She was scarcely through the gap before she heard the 'tlot-tlot' of a horse. The rider seemed to be making inland, climbing the slope from the waterside. Fearful of she knew n

Is that yo

colour flushing her face in the relief

be gooin'?' And for a moment Charity's heart was in her mouth. Then she r

l's confusion, and setting it down in his chivalrous wa

' replied the girl. 'I th

ersonal affairs. 'How are you getting on, Charit

eted out to the forlorn girl, and tears rose to her

nd for something to say. His dark eyes rested very g

ff. I'm going across to Farmer Penrose, who declares he has

e as the horse moved on. Then with a

be freed. The Admiral is using all his influence with the Governor yonder.' And without waiting for a

il embrace. Roger never allowed a chance of riding by the sea to escape him; but after a minute's thought he decided to bear on in his present course and return by the edge of the cliffs when the mist would in all probability be cleared away. To ride round the head of 'Haunted Cove'—he s

ourney's end. Charity set herself to the stiff climb with all good will, and succeeded in reaching the head of the creek, and co

harity smiled at her gait, so unlike the swinging tread of the country-born. When the tired-looking walker was for a few minutes hidden from sight behind an outstanding group of rocks t

re on a rock gazing out to sea was no Frenchman. Not a dozen miles away had he been born, and born with a crookedness of mind that had spoilt the lives of others as well as his own. He had betrayed his fellow smugglers to aut

bute for his courage in seeking the cove. Then, working out the price his bravery must mean to the young lady now coming to the creek, Ch

down the cliff with the skill of one who had often had nothing but seagulls' eggs between herself and hunger. He rose as Elise stepped on to the shingly beach, and

e and handed to the man a bag that jingled in his fingers. The last of their words as they stepped down to the beach just failed

perch and rested. The two down there stood rooted to the spot. Charity, in growing wonder, twisted herself noiselessly round and discovered, standing on the rocks at the top of the creek, riding-crop in hand, Roger Trevannio

icious triumph; here was an added danger which meant more gold. But the look of fury and hatred on the girl's face ma

had launched his boat, and hugging the land closely, sailed out of si

which the climbing of the cliffs had been a baby's play. The dawn crept into her windows as she finished it, and not thinking it worth while then to sleep, she stole downstairs, kindled the fire, set the kettle on

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