The baby began to suck and rub the mouth-piece eagerly against its little gums, till it had a suspicion of the intense bitter of the pipe, when the look of content upon the soft, round little features gradually changed into such a droll grimace of disgust that Geoffrey lay back and laughed till the tears came into his eyes, and he wiped them away, and laughed heartily again and again. "Oh, you rum little customer!" he exclaimed; "you've done me no end of good. I have not laughed like that since I came down to Carnac. Why, you've made my ribs ache, that you have--_the devil_!" For at that moment, briskly walking along the cliff path, Rhoda turned the corner, and came right upon the pair. Rhoda stopped as if petrified, and a fierce look of indignation flashed from her eyes. Geoffrey was as much surprised, but he had more self-control, and, returning the indignant glance with one full of defiance, he kept his place in the sunny nook, lying right back, and went on tossing the baby to and fro, balancing it on his knees, and then pretending to make it walk up his broad chest, which, however, seemed to heave up into a mountain beneath the tiny feet. The silence in that sheltered nook was painful, and the low moan of the restless sea even seemed to be hushed, as the child threw back its little head, and kicked and laughed and crowed with delight. "Pitiful, contemptible coward!" thought Rhoda, biting her lip to keep down her anger. "And I once cared about this degraded wretch!" "I wouldn't move to save my life!" thought Geoffrey. "You doubting, incredulous, proud, faithless woman! You shall beg my pardon yet." He had a wonderful mastery over himself as far as his face was concerned, and he returned Rhoda's angry look with one as bitter, if not worse; but though he could keep smooth his face, he was not wholly master of his emotions, as it proved. For just as Rhoda was trying to summon up force enough to make her tear herself away with a look of intensified scorn and contempt, Geoffrey's hands, which held the baby, instead of lightly tossing it up and down, involuntarily gripped its little tender ribs so fiercely that the merry crow was changed into a loud wail of pain, and, with a hysterical laugh that jarred through every nerve of Geoffrey's frame, Rhoda rushed away, to burst, as soon as she was out of sight, into a passion of tears. "You little wretch!" roared Geoffrey, springing up and shaking the baby. "What do you mean by making me look such a fool? Be quiet, or I'll throw you into the sea. Hang me, what an idiot I must have looked," he cried, stamping up and down with the baby in his hands, and then stuffing it roughly in a niche in the rock. "Be quiet, will you," he roared, shaking his fist in the poor little thing's face; "be quiet, or I'll smash you!"