“Twenty-five years o’ service in the life-savin’ corps an’ ain’t let to go out now without these der-r-r-ratted contraptions!” he fumed. 

 A splendid, tawny-haired girl in an oilskin jacket stood looking out into the night, her eyes vivid with a brooding excitement. She turned as Haynes came in. 

 “Are you ready, Petit Père? I’m smothering in these things.” 

 Expressively she passed her hands down along the oilskins, which covered her dress without concealing the sumptuous beauty of her young figure. 

 Filled as was Colton’s mind with the image of another face, he looked at her with astonished admiration. Such, thought he, must have been the superb maids in whose inspiration the Vikings fought and conquered. 

 “If you knew what a gallant wet-weather figure you make,” Haynes answered her (Colton wondered how he could ever have thought the face disagreeable, so complete was the change of expression), “your vanity would keep you comfortable.” 

 “Dinna blether,” returned the girl, smiling with affectionate comradeship, and slipping her arm through his to draw him to the door. “Father’s boots are on at last.” 

 “We’re to have company,” said Haynes. “Mr. Colton—I think you said your name was Colton—wants to come along.” 

 “I’m sorry that you should have been awakened,” said the girl, turning to him. “You don’t mind rough weather?” 

 “At least I’m not likely to blow away,” returned the young man good-humouredly, looking down at her from his six-feet-one of height. Inwardly he was saying: “You are never the daughter of that weather-beaten old shore man and that mild and ancient hen of a woman.” 

 Haynes, who had caught up a lantern and was moving toward the door, turned and said to him: “You had better keep between Mr. Johnston and myself. What are you waiting for?” 

 “Aren’t there others coming? I thought I heard someone upstairs speak of it.” He paused in some embarrassment, as he realised the intensity of his own wish to see that dark and lovely face again. 

 “Oh, Dolly Ravenden. Her father will bring her,” said Miss Johnston. “We shall meet them at the beach.” 

 With heads bent, the four plunged out into the storm. The wind now was blowing 

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