"What! back again?" said Valmai, laughing so merrily that she woke the
echoes from the cliffs.

"Yes, back across those slippery stones and across the shore, and then
back again to this side. I can help you, you know."

Cardo's voice was very low and tender. It seemed ridiculous, but
somehow he gained his point.




CHAPTER IV.

THE STORM.

A day or two later on, the weather changed, the wind blew up in angry
soughs from the south-west, and, meeting the strong flow of the spring
tide, curled the green wave-tops into those small feathers of foam,
always the fore-runners of rough weather. The sea-gulls let themselves
go before the wind calling to each other excitedly, the little
sea-crows stayed quietly at home in the safe crannies of the cliff.
Old Dan Griffiths the fisherman hauled his boat further up the strand,
and everything betokened the brewing of a storm, nevertheless Valmai
was out early. Her small household duties had been attended to. She
had skimmed the cream in the dairy, and fed the new calf; she had
scattered the grain before the flocks of fowls and pigeons in the
farm-yard; had brushed her uncle's coat, and, while helping him to
shuffle into it, had asked him: