"More what?" "Er--unusual. Indeed, it would." She regarded me suspiciously. Then: "What about you?" "Me? How d'you mean?" I said uneasily. "Well, couldn't you slip back to the hotel somehow? Quite quietly, I mean, and--" "I could slip all right," said I. "The short grass on the top of the cliffs would help me there. But, my dear girl, how on earth can I do anything quietly in this dress?" "Everybody will be--" "Just finishing lunch or sitting on the terrace. Thanks very much." "There's a back door." "I never thought of that. Splendid! Leading to the kitchen, of course. They'd never notice me there. And I could just drop in at the office for the key of my room, and see if there were any letters on the way up, and---- My dear girl, how can I? I admit I've a good deal of nerve, but there is a limit. I know one can do most things nowadays, but--" "But this is a special occasion." "You seem to want to make it one." "And it can't be helped. This sort of modesty's out of date." "Not my date." "Besides, everybody'd understand." "I know they would. That's just what I'm afraid of." "Well, we must do something, and if you--" Suddenly there fell upon our ears the scrambling, clattering noise which invariably accompanies the descent of anybody rash enough to enter a Cornish cove with undue haste in leather-soled shoes. The Mermaid darted behind a rock, and I advanced gratefully up the foreshore to the fringe of stones. The noise grew louder, and the slips more frequent, until there was one long one, and then a thud. Up rose a fat oath. After a moment or two, there limped into sight--oh, blessed spectacle!--one of the hotel porters, conventionally hatless and coatless. "Ah!" said I. "The coastguard you sent hailed me, sir, across the fields yonder. Said something had happened--he didn't know what--but he heard the word 'hotel.' You see, you shouting to him from here, and he being up on top, he couldn't hear anything else rightly, so I came straight down." "Why didn't he come down himself when--er--when I shouted?" "He was taking a telegram to the post office sir. Said he told you so; but I suppose you didn't hear." Berry's coastguard. Berry's porter. I told him that my clothes had been washed away, and that the mermaid was in the same plight. I gave him implicit instructions and, with her assistance, the numbers of our respective rooms. He wrote it all down. He was to get some clothes for me himself, and enlist the services of a chambermaid for my companion. "Be as quick as you can," I said, as he turned to go. "You're sure you'll know this cove again? They're all rather alike." "That's all right, sir." The next moment he was half-way up the path. If he had looked back, he would have beheld the singular and doubtless pleasing spectacle of the Mermaid and myself doing the real Argentine tango along the stretch of yellow sand. She did not see the blood on my hand for a minute or two. Then: