mass of rock, sat with the wind howling and the waves bursting around me. There I fell into a sort of brown study--almost a half-sleep. But I had not sat long before I came broad awake, for I heard voices, low and earnest. One I recognised as Joe's voice. The other was a woman's. I could not tell what they said for some time, and therefore felt no immediate necessity for disclosing my proximity, but sat debating with myself whether I should speak to them or not. At length, in a lull of the wind, I heard the woman say--I could fancy with a sigh-- "I'm sure you'll du what is right, Joe. Don't 'e think o' me, Joe." "It's just of you that I du think, Aggy. You know it ben't for my sake. Surely you know that?" There was no answer for a moment. I was still doubting what I had best do--go away quietly or let them know I was there--when she spoke again. There was a momentary lull now in the noises of both wind and water, and I heard what she said well enough. "It ben't for me to contradict you, Joe. But I don't think you be going to die. You be no worse than last year. Be you now, Joe?" It flashed across me how once before, a stormy night and darkness had brought me close to a soul in agony. Then I was in agony myself; now the world was all fair and hopeful around me--the portals of the world beyond ever opening wider as I approached them, and letting out more of their glory to gladden the path to their threshold. But here were two souls straying in a mist which faith might roll away, and leave them walking in the light. The moment was come. I must speak. "Joe!" I called out. "Who's there?" he cried; and I heard him start to his feet. "Only Mr. Walton. Where are you?" "We can't be very far off," he answered, not in a tone of any pleasure at finding me so nigh. I rose, and peering about through the darkness, found that they were a little higher up on the same rock by which I was sheltered. "You mustn't think," I said, "that I have been eavesdropping. I had no idea anyone was near me till I heard your voices, and I did not hear a word till just the last sentence or two." "I saw someone go up the Castle-rock," said Joe; "but I thought he was gone away again. It will be a lesson to me." "I'm no tell-tale, Joe," I returned, as I scrambled up the rock. "You will have no cause to regret that I happened to overhear a little. I am sure, Joe, you will never say anything you need be ashamed of. But what I heard was sufficient to let me into the secret of your trouble. Will you let me talk to Joe, Agnes? I've been young myself, and, to tell the truth, I don't think I'm old yet." "I am sure, sir," she answered, "you won't be hard on Joe and me. I don't suppose there be anything wrong in liking each other, though we can't be--married." She spoke in a low tone, and her voice trembled very much; yet there was a certain womanly composure in her utterance. "I'm sure it's very bold of me to talk so," she added, "but Joe will tell you all about it."