All he wanted to do was to gather her up in his strong arms, and wakening her with kisses carry her to safety.

Safety from the sea, safety from the unknown spell which had been laid upon her, safety from the horrible future; a safety he felt which could only be found within the circumference of his arms folded about her in love.

But instead he looked round for the garments she must have left somewhere, and seeing them, stepped quietly across the widening pools and gathered up the soft, sweet-smelling heap of dainty raiment; clenching his hands tight upon them to prevent himself from burying his face in the perfumed delicate things which he had not the right even to touch.

A little knot of pale pink bebe ribbon came away in his hand, and he twisted it around the seaweed ring she had twined about his finger, then untwisted them both and slipped them into his pocket, and stooped to pick up something which had slipped from the garments and tinkled on the rocks.

“Oh, you beauty!” he said as he held the jewel out in his open hand, and “Oh, you brute!” he said again is the cat’s-eye winked cunningly at him with the knowledge of all ages in its lustrous depths.

Then he went back, crushing his flimsy burden to his heart; and placing it upon a rock near the sleeping girl, strode off to the opening of the little connecting cove, where he stood in the shadows and called;

“Leonie!  Are you there, Leonie?”

Leonie stirred, settled down again to sleep, and stirred each time the voice rang insistently.

Who knows if love would have brought her back to consciousness and the immediate necessity to rise and clothe herself, and flee for safety?

Anyway, the tide decided and sent a little wave that thoroughly drenched her and brought her to her knees shivering and bewildered.

“Tide in!”

She glanced round hurriedly and drew her hand across her eyes.

“Funny!” she said as she retreated before a wave which surged over the rocks and swirled up behind her.  “But—­why—­I’ve nothing on!  And my arm!—­why, I’m simply cut to bits.  And—­and oh!  I’ve been dreaming—­and how dark it is; there must be a storm coming!”

As she spoke she hurriedly flung herself into her clothes, biting her lips as the lace and ribbons caught in the horrible gash in her arm, and was standing waiting for the water to recede before she jumped, just as a voice as from heaven itself called.

“Leonie! where are you?  Leonie, the tide is coming in!”

She did not wait, she jumped clear, stumbling and falling on the other side, ripping her feet until they bled.

Then she got up and ran blindly, impelled by terror pursued by the fear of something far more terrible than death.

“Jan!  Jan! help me!”

Without a word he caught her and lifted her, holding her closely.

Never a word he said as they raced through from one cove to the other, neither when the waters buffeted him nor when weeds twined about his feet, and rocks impeded him.