"Poor girl!" he said half aloud, "and with all that trouble fresh upon her, and the feeling that she and her family are disgraced for ever, I go to her to press forward my selfish, egotistical love. God forgive me! What weak creatures we men are!" He sat thinking, taking off his hat for the cool, moist sea air to fan his feverish temples, when the solemn silence of the starry night seemed to bring to him rest and repose such as he had not enjoyed since the hour when Aunt Marguerite planted that sharp, poisoned barb in his breast. "It is not that," he said to himself, with a sigh full of satisfaction. "She never felt the full force of love yet for any man, but if ever her gentle young nature turned towards any one, it was towards me. And, knowing this, I, in my impatience and want of consideration, contrived my own downfall. No, not my downfall; there is hope yet, and a few words rightly spoken will remove the past." The feverish sensation was passing away swiftly. The calm serenity of the night beneath the glorious dome of stars was bringing with it restfulness, and hope rose strongly, as, far away in the east, he saw a glittering point of light rise above the sea slowly higher and higher, a veritable star of hope to him. "What's that?" he said to himself, as above the boom of the waves which struck below and then filled some hollow and fell back with an angry hiss, he fancied he heard a sob. There was no mistake; a woman was talking in a low, moaning way, and then there came another sob. He rose quickly. "Is anything the matter?" he said sharply. "Ah! Why, how you frightened me! Is that you, Master Leslie?" "Yes. Who is it? Poll Perrow?" "Yes, Master Leslie, it's me." "Why, what are you doing here?" said Leslie, as cynical old Uncle Luke's hints about the smuggling flashed across his mind. "Nothing to do with smuggling," she said, as if divining his thoughts. "Indeed, old lady! Well, it looks very suspicious." "No, it don't, sir. D'you think if I wanted to carry any landed goods I should take 'em along the coastguard path?" "A man would not," said Leslie, "but I should say it's just what a cunning old woman's brain would suggest, as being the surest way to throw the revenue men off the scent." "Dessay you're right, Master Leslie, but you may search me if you like. I've got nothing to-night." "I'm not going to search you, old lady. I'll leave that to the revenue men. But what's the matter?" "Matter, Master Leslie?" "Yes; I heard you sobbing. Are you in trouble?" "Of course I am, sir. Aren't I a lone widow?" "So you have been these fifteen years." "Fourteen and three-quarters, sir." "Ah, well, I was near enough. But what is it, old lady? Want a little money?" "No, no, no, Master Leslie, sir; and that's very kind of you, sir; and if I don't bring you up half-a-dozen of the finest mack'rel that come in these next days, my name aren't Perrow."