The boat went cutting through the tide-waves and dashing the spray over her bows, the wide sea was opening all around them,--the salt wind stung his brain to keener life. To what horrid fate were they hurrying, she alone with this maniacal man? Out there beyond, away and away, the mighty billows tossed in their cruel glee, silvered their crests and horns in the moonlight, and grew and disappeared like phantoms. Her heart sank down abysses with every beat,--she covered her face with her hands in some vain call for miraculous aid. Just then another boat came by and took the wind from their sails. Eloise felt the slackened speed, and looked up. First the figure of a horseman standing against the sky on the cliff above, as if a portion of the stone itself, caught her eye; next, the sail sheering by them; then she was on her feet beside Marlboro'. She reached out her hand to the tiller; she looked in his face and laughed in her old way. It was hardly an effort, for all at once her heart had grown light as a bubble. "Mr. Marlboro'," she said, in the sweet natural ring of her every-day tones and without a quiver, "these are the Blue Bluffs close above us." The voice, the air, the meaning, made him irresolute. At the same moment the tiller obeyed her hand, that threw out all its strength, the sails flapped loosely across their bending brows, they went about, heading for the little cove of still water. "You are right," said he. "That is our home. What fiercely glad wild dream have I had? Our home!" The keel grated on the pebbles,--some one came dashing down the narrow path, shoved them off, and leaped on board. "Now, Marlboro'," said Mr. St. George, "the rudder is mine. A pretty dance with Death have you been leading Miss Changarnier! How long do you suppose this cockle-shell could buffet such a sea as is playing outside? Do you fancy I can countenance such treatment of my ward? Ease that rope a little, Miss Eloise. Here we go! What will Murray say, Marlboro', when he sees me come sailing by with you? "'A-sailing and a-sailing, My love he left me sad; A-sailing and a-sailing, Let him come and make me glad!'" sang Mr. St. George, and they went flying up the river. "The south winds blow, the waters flow, His sail is in the sun; Though twenty storms between us go, His heart and mine are one," sang Eloise, in jubilant response at her safety,--and Marlboro', fain to follow, echoed the air they trolled.