The Tidal Wave and Other Stories

d to dry in the sun; the morning's work was done. Most of the other men had lounged into their cottages for the midday meal

his red, hairy legs. Now and then his bare toes gripped the moist sand almost sa

d beard and quick, twinkling eyes. He was at work upon a tangled length of tarred rope, pulling and twisting with m

that sat with bent head broiling in the sun. His task seemed a hopeless one, but he tackled it as if he enjoyed it. His brown hands worked with a will. He

stle and sent a brisk hail across the stretch of sand that intervene

us-Rufu

nd took in the blue-jerseyed, energetic figure that worked so actively at the knotted hemp. There was something rather wonderful abo

after a moment or two he got slowly to his

progress. His brown, lined fac

w near and paused

p-toned bell. His arms hung slack at his sides

t curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said, "he came messing round after me this morn

do that for?

aid to him, 'Me and my son, we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with me, and p'raps

t be there," c

on's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that chap," he obse

d I know?"

in it a hint of savagery, and picked up th

If that chap values his health he

they, but their partnership was something more than a business relation. They were friends-friends on a footing of equality, and had

lone together in their cottage on the cliff in complete content. Then-seven years back-Adam

, amiable, prosperous, who in marrying Adam would have gladly opened her doors

cottage of his birth, and in this cottage he

A rough path, steep and winding, led up from the beach below, and about half-way up a small gate, jealously padlocked in the owner's absence, guarded Rufus's privacy. He never invited any one within that gate. Occasionally his father would saunter up with his evening

had lived his own life for so long that solitude had grown upon him as moss clings

lounge in the bar with the rest, but even there his solitude still

erful enough to thrash any two of them, and no one cared to pr

general advice and warning of his fellows,

n especial point of this, and Rufus had never managed to invent any suitable excuse for refusing. He never remained long after the meal was eaten. When all the other fisher-lads were walking the cliffs with their own particular lasses, Rufus was wont to trudge back to his hermitage and draw his mantle of solitude about him once more. He had never walked with any lass. Whether from shyness or surliness, he ha

Jefferson, who lived down on the quay, still bore the marks of one such battle in the absence of two front teeth

m's shrewd dark eyes twinkle whenever they glanced in his son's dire

of Mrs. Peck's late lamented husband's vagabond brother-"a seafaring man and a wastrel if ever there was one," as Mrs. Peck was often heard to declare. He ha

hen a skipper of a small cargo steamer plying across the North Sea, had placed her in the charge of a spinster aunt who kept an infants' school in a little Kentish village near the coast. Here, up to the age of seventeen, Colu

o daughter of her own; she could do with a daughter.

l be a care!"

he is," the dying woman had

promised to keep the secret,

a thing, upright as a dart, with a fashion of holding her head that kept all familiarity at bay. But the shyness had all gone now. The girlish immaturity

f unconsidered impulse that testified to a passionate soul. She would flash into a t

ed," said Mrs. Peck. "But she'

rge, missus, not mine. It's my belief you'll find her a bit of a handful b

ed Mrs. Peck, "I'd as so

nce to his son. "Rufus ain't such

quable Mrs. Peck. "I've a great respect for Rufus.

nd Adam did not pursue the subject to i

dship to the dainty witch at The Ship, but he took the trouble to make himself extremely respectable when he made his we

t so silently at his father's table, but that phase had wholly passed away. She treated him now with a kindly condescension, such as she might have bestowed upon a meek-

Mrs. Peck. "The chaps her

in Adam

e his way-played, in fact, a father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to assume no authori

warm responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a gene

ter the men!" was her verdict after the

fact that not one of them would have disputed. But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance,

and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along

an artist, and the sketches he made were numerous and-like himself-full of decision. He came and went a

Adam to call him "the curly-topped chap"-but now they were getting used to him. For there was no gainsayi

whenever she spoke to him. He liked to hear her play the guitar and sing soft songs in the twilight. Adam liked it too. He was wont to say that it reminded him of

touch was always so sure. He never sought her out, though he was invariably quite pleased to see her. The dainty barrier of pride

sy savoir-faire, he had waived ceremony, till at length there was no ceremony left

ped chap," and turned him over to his son Rufus w

st after the utterance of his half-veiled thre

wholly unsympathetic, and began deft

'd do-if I was in y

nd that was stri

smoke a pipe with your old father of an evening?" he said. "Once a week's not enough, not

horizon with those bro

ays only. I didn't dress up, mind you. That weren't my way. But I'd go along in my jersey and invite her

ed himself, rubbing his hands on his trousers. His son remaine

words of counsel on this delicate subject. But having started, he was minded t

afraid to show your mettle! Don't be crowded out by that curly-topped c

trousers pockets with th

s eyes swooped down upon the lithe, active figure at his side. Th

" he said in his

m wheeled and departed. He