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XXXI. AMONG THE SAND-HEAPS 229 XXXII. A DANGEROUS GIFT 237 XXXIII. HALF A MARRIAGE 244 XXXIV. A BREAKFAST 252 XXXV. JACK O’ LANTERN 259 XXXVI. THE SEA-WOLVES 269 XXXVII. BRUISED NOT BROKEN 275 XXXVIII. A CHANGE OF WIND 282 XXXIX. A FIRST LIE 290 XL. THE DIAMOND BUTTERFLY 297 XLI. A DEAD-LOCK 306 XLII. TWO LETTERS 313 XLIII. THE SECOND TIME 320 XLIV. THE WHIP FALLS 327 XLV. GONE FROM ITS PLACE 334 XLVI. A SECOND LIE 341 XLVII. FAST IN HIS HANDS 349 XLVIII. TWO ALTERNATIVES 357 XLIX. NOTHING LIKE GROG 364 L. PLAYING FORFEITS 372 LI. SURRENDER 380 LII. TO JUDITH 387 LIII. IN THE SMOKE 395 LIV. SQUAB PIE 403

IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA.

CHAPTER I.

OVER AND DONE.

Sitting in the parsonage garden, in a white frock, with a pale green sash about her waist, leaning back against the red-brick wall, her glowing copper hair lit by the evening sun, was Judith Trevisa.

She was tossing guelder-roses into the air; some dozens were strewn about her feet on the gravel, but one remained of the many she had plucked and thrown and caught, and thrown and caught again for a sunny afternoon hour. As each greenish-white ball of flowers went up into the air it diffused a faint but pleasant fragrance.

“When I have done with you, my beauty, I have done altogether,” said Judith.

“With what?”

Her father spoke. He had come up unperceived by the girl, burdened with a shovel in one hand and a bucket in the other, looking pale, weary, and worn.

“Papa, you nearly spoiled my game. Let me finish, and I will speak.”

“Is it a very serious matter, Judith, and engrossing?”

“Engrossing, but not serious, Je m’amuse.”

The old rector seated himself on the bench beside her, and he also leaned back against the red-brick, gold-and-gray-lichen-spotted wall, and looked into the distance before him, waiting till his daughter was ready to speak, not, perhaps, sorry to have a little rest first, for he was overtired. Had Judith not been absorbed in her ball-play with the guelder-rose bunch she would have noticed his haggard appearance, the green hue about his mouth, the sunken eyes, the beaded brow. But she was counting the rebounds of her ball, bent on sustaining her play as long as was possible to her.

She formed a charming picture, fresh