upright as before upon the wind-swept pile of fissured rocks, and that
Cleer sat reading under its shelter to leeward. But by her side this
morning sat also an elder lady, whom Eustace instinctively recognized
as her mother--a graceful, dignified lady, with silvery white hair and
black Cornish eyes, and features not untinged by the mellowing,
hallowing air of a great sorrow.

Le Neve raised his hat as they drew near, with a pleased smile of
welcome, and Trevennack and his daughter both bowed in return. "A
glorious morning!" the engineer said, drinking in to the full the
lovely golden haze that flooded and half-obscured the Land's End
district; and Trevennack assented gravely. "The crag stands up well in
this sunshine against the dark water behind," he said, waving one
gracious hand toward the island at his foot, and poising lighter than
ever.

"Oh, take care!" Walter Tyrrel cried, looking up at him, on
tenterhooks. It's so dangerous up there! You might tumble any minute."

"_I_ never tumble," Trevennack made answer with solemn gravity,
spreading one hand on either side as if to balance himself like an
acrobat. But he descended as he spoke and took his place beside them.

Tyrrel looked at the view and looked at the pretty girl. It was
evident he was quite as much struck by the one as by the other.
Indeed, of the two, Cleer seemed to attract the larger share of his
attention. For some minutes they stood and talked, all five of them
together, without further introduction than their common admiration
for that exquisite bay, in which Trevennack appeared to take an almost
proprietary interest. It gratified him, obviously, a Cornish man, that