and as the firelight shone upon her smoky face, with its one striped
cheek of gorgeous brilliancy, it was plainly the Princess Bob and no
other.

Not a word was spoken. They had been sitting thus for more than an
hour, and there was about their attitude a suggestion that silence was
habitual. Once or twice the man rose and walked up and down the narrow
room, or gazed absently from the windows of the pilot-house, but never
by look or sign betrayed the slightest consciousness of his companion.
At such times the Princess from her nest by the fire followed him with
eyes of canine expectancy and wistfulness. But he would as inevitably
return to his contemplation of the fire, and the Princess to her
blinking watchfulness of his face.

They had sat there silent and undisturbed for many an evening in fair
weather and foul. They had spent many a day in sunshine and storm,
gathering the unclaimed spoil of sea and shore. They had kept these mute
relations, varied only by the incidents of the hunt or meagre household
duties, for three years, ever since the man, wandering moodily over the
lonely sands, had fallen upon the half-starved woman lying in the little
hollow where she had crawled to die. It had seemed as if they would
never be disturbed, until now, when the Princess started, and, with the
instinct of her race, bent her ear to the ground.

The wind had risen and was rattling the tarred canvas. But in another
moment there plainly came from without the hut the sound of voices.
Then followed a rap at the door; then another rap; and then, before they
could rise to their feet, the door was flung briskly open.

"I beg your pardon," said a pleasant but somewhat decided contralto