"Anything you like," he said. The landlord nodded in approval at so sensible an answer, and went out to consult his wife, who had been staring at the handsome traveler from behind the half-open door of the common living room. Presently he came out with the result. The gentleman could have a bit of fish and a chop, and some Falmouth potatoes. Leycester nodded indifferently--anything would do. Both the fish and the chop were excellent, but Leycester did anything but justice to them. A strange feeling of restlessness seemed to have taken possession of him, and when he had lit his cigar, instead of sitting down and taking it comfortably, he felt compelled to get up and wander to the door. The evening was drawing in; there were a fairish number of miles between him and home--it was time for him to start, but still he leant against the door and looked at the sea and cliffs that rose in a line with the house. At last he paid his reckoning, supplemented it with a half-crown for the landlord in his capacity of waiter, and started. But not homeward; the cliff seemed to exercise a strange fascination for him, and obeying the impulse which was almost irresistible, he set off for the path that ascended to the summit, and strode upward. A great peace was upon the scene, a great unrest and unsatisfied desire was in his heart. All the air seemed full of Stella; her voice mingled, for him, in the plash of the waves. Thinking of her with a deep, sorrowful wistfulness, he climbed on and--passed her. Stood within reach of her as she cowered and shrank against the wall of chalk, and all unconscious of her nearness he turned and came down. The evening had grown chilly and keen, but his walk had made him hot, and he turned into the inn to get a glass of ale. The landlord was surprised to see him again, and said so, and Leycester stood, with the glass in his hand, explaining that he had been up the cliff to look at the view. "Aye, sir, and a grand view it is," said the old man, with pardonable pride. "Man and boy I've growed under the shadow of that cliff, and I know every inch of it, top and bottom. Mighty dangerous it is too, sir," he added, reflectively. "It's not one or two, but nigh upon a score o' accidents as I've known on that cliff." "The path is none too wide," said Leycester. "No, sir, and in the dark----" he stopped suddenly, and started. "What was that?" he exclaimed. "What is the matter?" Leycester asked. The old man caught his arm suddenly, and pointed to the cliff. Leycester looked up, and the glass fell from his hand. There, on the giddy height, clearly defined against the sky, were two figures, locked together in what appeared a deadly embrace. "Look!" exclaimed the old man. "The glass--give me the glass!"