"He must think it--he must think it," muttered Stratton as he hurried on, now stumbling over a piece of rock, now slipping on some heap of weed left by the tide. But he pressed forward, making straight for a light which shone out plainly half-way up the cliff, and which he instinctively judged to be at Sir Mark's abode, and a sense of despair clutched his heart as he felt how he was to be so near and yet dared not even look, much less speak. Suddenly he found that, though he was making straight for the cliff, he was wading through water; but he kept on, believing that he had entered a pool left by the tide, till the water rose from his ankles to his knees, and a rushing sound warned him that the tide had turned and was coming in fast. Then he knew that he must have been walking along one of the spits of sand round which the flowing tide curved, and that if he retraced his steps it might be to find the other end covered, besides losing time. The darkness confused him, and he stopped, hesitating for a few moments; then, feeling that, whether the water deepened or receded, he must press on, he drew a deep breath and moved forward, the tide soon rising to his waist, and a wave nearly taking him off his legs. Was it to be his fate to be drowned now at such a critical time, he asked himself, there in sight of the light that might be shining from the room which the woman he sought to save from suffering now occupied? As this thought ran through his mind the waves rushed back with a hiss, the water falling to his knees, and, making a dash forward he found that he had passed the deepest part of the channel scooped by the tide in the sand. Five minutes later he was on dry land, with the water streaming from him, and soon after the light which had been his guide disappeared. He rightly judged, though, that it must be from his having approached nearer to the cliff; and, pressing on in spite of the darkness, he at last reached it, but was unable to judge whether he was to right or left of the cottage that he sought. Once more he felt in despair, for he knew that time was gliding rapidly by, and that by some means they ought to leave before day. He was about to try off to the right when all at once he heard voices above his head to the left, and, listening intently, he made out the deep tones of the admiral, and an answer came in Guest's familiar voice. "Is he telling him that I am here?" thought Stratton. No, for there was a pleasant little laugh--Edie's; and the constriction at the listener's heart was painful as he stood there thinking and wishing to hear the voice of the woman he loved better than his life. But the next who spoke was the admiral, and his words came distinctly to where, with every nerve strained, Stratton stood rooted to the sands.