The book in question was the Bible. It had been the self-imposed custom of these two young people to read aloud a chapter every night as their one vague formula of literary and religious discipline. When it was produced, Maggie, presuming on his affectionate and penitential condition, suggested that to-night he should pick out "suthin' interestin'." But this unorthodox frivolity was sternly put aside by Jim--albeit, by way of compromise, he agreed to "chance it," i. e., open its pages at random. He did so. Generally he allowed himself a moment's judicious pause for a certain chaste preliminary inspection necessary before reading aloud to a girl. To-night he omitted that modest precaution, and in a pleasant voice, which in reading was singularly free from colloquial infelicities of pronunciation, began at once: "'Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty.'" "Oh, you looked first," said Maggie. "I didn't now--honest Injin! I just opened." "Go on," said Maggie, eagerly shoving him and interposing her neck over his shoulder. And Jim continued Deborah's wonderful song of Jael and Sisera to the bitter end of its strong monosyllabic climax. "There," he said, closing the volume, "that's what I call revenge. That's the real Scripture thing--no fancy frills theer." "Yes; but, Jim dear, don't you see that she treated him first--sorter got round him with free milk and butter, and reg'larly blandished him," argued Maggie earnestly. But Jim declined to accept this feminine suggestion, or to pursue the subject further, and after a fraternal embrace they separated for the night. Jim lingered long enough to look after the fastening of the door and windows, and Maggie remained for some moments at her casement, looking across the gallery to the Marsh beyond. The moon had risen, the tide was half up. Whatever sign or trace of alien footprint or occupation had been there was already smoothly obliterated; even the configuration of the land had changed. A black cape had disappeared, a level line of shore had been eaten into by teeth of glistening silver. The whole dark surface of the Marsh was beginning to be streaked with shining veins as if a new life was coursing through it. Part of the open bay before the Fort, encroaching upon the shore, seemed in the moonlight to be reaching a white and outstretched arm towards the nest of the Kingfisher. III.