“Hush! Guess you'd have been better off. You'd never gone after that fox if it hadn't been for me, and there wouldn't have been none of this fuss.” “Oh, don't say that! You've been so brave. Anyhow, we'll die together, that's a comfort.” “Pashy,” said Captain Perez solemnly, “it's mighty good to hear you say that.” It is, perhaps, needless to explain that the “dying” portion of the lady's speech was not that referred to by the Captain; the word “together” was what appealed to him. Miss Patience apparently understood. “Is it?” she said softly. “Yes--yes, 'tis.” The arm holding the coat about the lady's shoulder tightened just a little. The Captain had often dreamed of something like this, but never with quite these surroundings. However, he was rapidly becoming oblivious to such trivial details as surroundings. “Pashy,” he said huskily, “I've been thinkin' of you consider'ble lately. Fact is, I--I--well, I come down to-day a-purpose to ask you somethin'. I know it's a queer place to ask it, and--and I s'pose it's kind of sudden, but--will--will you--Breakers! by mighty!” The carryall had suddenly begun to rock, and there were streaks of foam about it. Now, it gave a most alarming heave, grounded, swung clear, and tipped yet more. “We're capsizin',” yelled Perez. “Hang on to me, Pashy!” But Miss Patience didn't intend to let this, perhaps the final opportunity, slip. As she told her brother afterward, she would have made him say it then if they had been “two fathom under water.” “Will I what, Perez?” she demanded. The carryall rose on two wheels and begun to turn over, but the Captain did not notice it. The arms of his heart's desire were about his neck, and he was looking into her eyes. “Will you marry me?” he gasped. “Yes,” answered Miss Patience, and they went under together. The Captain staggered to his feet, and dragged his chosen bride to hers. The ice-cold water reached their shoulders. And, like a flash, as they stood there, came a torrent of rain and a wind that drove the fog before it like smoke. Captain Perez saw the shore, with its silhouetted bushes, only a few yards away. Beyond that, in the blackness, was a light, a flickering blaze, that rose and fell and rose and fell again. The Captain dragged Miss Patience to the beach. “Run!” he chattered, “run, or we'll turn into icicles. Come on!” With his arm about her waist Perez guided his dripping companion, as fast as they could run, toward the light. And as they came nearer to it they saw that it flickered about the blackened ruins of a hen-house and a lath fence. It was Mrs. Mayo's henhouse, and Mrs. Mayo's fence. Their adventurous journey had ended where it began.