Was there yet time before they reached home for some foretaste of that ill luck predicted by the superstitious fishermen? Let us see. They were in great spirits as they struck across the down, turning now and again to look back at the storm-lashed sea, and mark how The Skegs were now almost hidden in clouds of spray as the flying waves leaped high against their slippery sides. At length, as they reached the last stile a rumble of approaching wheels was audible on the high road. Now this stile was in a shaky condition, consequently a piece of the woodwork gave way as Olive was in the act of crossing. She must have had a nasty fall, but for the two ready hands prompt to set her securely on her feet. Just then an open carriage swept round the bend of the road from the direction of Wandsborough. So rapidly did it whirl past that Roland had not time to do more than recognise its occupants; yet in that brief moment he took in everything--the pair of high-stepping bays, the silver crest on the harness, even the identity of the men on the box. But what he took in most surely of all was the expression of furious anger through which his father had regarded him, and the no less hostile look on the cold impassive face of his mother. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. BREAKERS AHEAD. "I sat, Nell," said Hubert Dorrien, coming into the morning-room, where his sister sat alone. "What the very dickens is wrong now? The veteran's in an exemplary state of grumps." "Well, he isn't particularly amiable this morning; but then he isn't always, you know," answered Nellie. Hubert shook his head moodily. "Ah, yes, but there's something in the wind. He's far worse than usual, and now he and the missis are hobnobbing together in the library. Now, Nell, be a good girl and tell a fellow what it's all about." "But, Hu, I give you my word I haven't an idea. It may be nothing, after all." "Pooh!" exclaimed her brother irascibly. "I believe you do know, though. You women dearly love beating about the bush and all that sort of thing," and throwing his leg over the arm of a chair, he flung himself back, his face a picture of unreasonable peevishness. Nor could he afford to await with indifference the paternal storm, for Master Hubert's conscience was a tolerably blemished article, and now he was speculating with a troubled mind as to which of his peccadilloes might have come to the paternal knowledge. The girl made no reply, as she bent over her work, while her brother sat uneasily swinging his legs, the apprehensive frown deepening on his brow. Then they heard the door of the study open and their father's voice saying: "--And send Hubert here; I want to talk to him. If he is out, he had better come directly he returns." And the door closed as Mrs Dorrien replied in the affirmative.