"That is Smugglers' Ladder. It is well worth seeing. I've only been there once. We must make up a picnic and go there some day. Are you fond of picnics, Mr Dorrien?" "Passionately--under some circumstances. But can't we get as far this afternoon?" Olive looked dubious. "It's a long way. Further than it seems. And father was right. It's coming on to rain." "So it is. Here we are at our destination, though, and we can shelter under the rock." Great drops began to plash on the water, and the cliffs above looked dim as through a mist. The tallest of The Skegs reared up its lofty turret overhead, the sea washing over a narrow sloping ledge of rock at its base with a hollow plash. This was the only landing place. The landing was a good deal more difficult than it looked. There was something of a current swirling round the rock, and the boat, as it got within the recoil of the waves, danced about in lively fashion. Olive, a little overawed at finding herself for the first time in this uncanny place, looked about her in a half-scared, half-subdued manner, as if she expected to behold the spectral hound start open-mouthed from the waves. Then enjoyment of the adventure dispelled all other misgiving. "Just in time," she remarked gaily, as, her companion having secured the boat, they gained the desired shelter. A violent downpour followed, beating down the sea like oil. Not a soul was in sight on the lonely and desolate beach, and away on the horizon great cloud banks came rolling. Our two wanderers--three rather, for Roy was not slow to assert his claim--made the best they could of the limited shelter, contemplating the rushing deluge a yard in front of them with the utmost equanimity. "May as well make ourselves snug while we can. I shall venture to smoke." "One of your many advantages over us poor women. Well, why do you look so astonished? Isn't it?" "Why do I look astonished?" echoed her companion lazily and between the puffs as he lighted up. "Oh, only because one seems to have heard that sentiment before." "Well? And then?" "And then? Oh--and then--I suppose it astonished me to hear a threadbare sort of a commonplace proceed from you. That's all." Olive tried to feel angry. She could not even look it, however. The tell-tale laugh rose to her eyes, curved the witching little mouth--then out it came. "Do you know--you are very rude? At least I ought to tell you so--" "Another commonplace." "Why you deliberately snubbed me?" she went on, taking no notice of the murmured interruption. "Snubbed me like a brother. Shut me up, in fact." "Cool hands, brothers--stick at nothing. Ought to know. One myself. But, I say, wasn't it odd how we first ran against each other that morning--you and I--when you were drawing?"