"Four fathoms, no bottom!" "Keep her off a point!" "By the deep, four!" "How's the bottom?" "Clean and sandy, sir!" "No bottom at three!" "Ready for'a'd to let go?" "All ready, sir!" "The mark three, no bottom!" "Lee--o!... Hold her!" The long swish of oars, the rattle of oar-locks.... A voice rapping out: "Rest on the oars!" And then: "Schooner ahoy!" Shane's heart sank. He gave no answer. "What ship is that?" The voice rang over the little bay ... found a grotesque echo in some cliff.... "Who are you?" "His Majesty's coast-guards. Stand by. Coming aboard. Lay on your oars, men!" And then ... a long instant.... "Toss oars!" "Bring her into the wind!" Shane ordered.... A scramble alongside, and some one was coming over the waist rail.... A firm step on deck.... Some one was smiling.... "My name's Flannagan, Lieutenant Flannagan.... Sorry, Mr. Campbell, we can't let you land ... your cargo or your passenger...." "I don't understand." "Well, sir, we know what your cargo is, and my orders are not to let you land. And I was to tell you, sir, that you couldn't land anywhere." "By God! I knew it would end like this.... Are we under arrest?" "No, sir.... You are just not to land. I'm sorry, sir, but.... Orders!" "Then what the blazes am I going to do?" "Jove, I don't know. Can't you bring the cargo back where you got it?" "I suppose I'll have to do that. But my passenger.... I can put her ashore." "I'm sorry, sir. But your passenger can't go ashore, anywhere, any time, in her Majesty's dominions." "Hmm!" He heard her quick step on the companionway. "Shane." "Shane, are you there?" "Shane, Shane, what's wrong?" She came into the shrouded light of the binnacle. "Shane, who--who is this?" "My name's Flannagan, Miss O'Malley--royal navy--I'm sorry; you can't land." "What does it mean, Shane?" "You're beaten, Granya." "Are we prisoners?" "No, Miss O'Malley, just you can't land. And I'm very distressed to tell you.... You may not land anywhere, any time, in her Majesty's dominions." "That doesn't shut out Mr. Campbell, does it?" "I've no orders against him, Miss O'Malley, barring his landing his cargo or you...." She laid her hand on Shane's arm.... "I'm sorry, Shane.... I'm very sorry, my dear--dear friend.... You were so good.... There are few--would have sacrificed their time and profession, and everything--to help a woman on a wild-goose ideal!--like mine was.... So please forgive me!" "There's nothing to forgive, Granya...." "I want to do this ..." she leaned forward and kissed him.... The lieutenant turned away. "And now good-by." "Why good-by? I'm not going ashore. I'll stick." "Dear Shane, you would." She caught his hand, pressed, dropped it. Her voice rang out: "But I'm going ashore...." She had swung over the taffrail and dropped into the water with the soft splash of a fish.... "My God ...!" Shane swore with rage. "Wait. I'll get her. Will you stand by with your boat?"