lest they should be stranded. Slipping off her clothes she plunged into
the cool and crystal water and began to swim round and across the pool,
for at this art she was expert, diving and playing like a sea-nymph. Her
bath done she dried herself with a towel she had brought, all except her
long, fair hair, which she let loose for the wind to blow on, and having
dressed, stood a while waiting to see the glory of the sun rising from the
ocean.

Whilst she remained thus, suddenly she heard the sound of horses galloping
towards her, two of them she could tell that from the hoof beats, although
the low-lying mist made them invisible. A few more seconds and they
emerged out of the fog. The first thing that she saw were stripes which
caused her to laugh, thinking that she had mistaken zebras for horses.
Then the laugh died on her lips as she recognised that the stripes were
those of Mr. Ishmael's trousers. Yes, there was no doubt about it, Mr.
Ishmael, wearing a rough coat instead of his lion-skin, but with the rest
of his attire unchanged, was galloping down upon her furiously, leading a
riderless horse. Remembering her wet and dishevelled hair, Rachel threw
the towel over it, whence it hung like an old Egyptian head-dress, setting
her beautiful face in a most becoming frame. Next she picked up the
double-barrelled gun and cocked it, for she misdoubted her of this man's
intentions. Not many modern books came her way, but she had read stories
of young women who were carried off by force.

For an instance she was frightened, but as she lifted the hammer of the
second barrel her constitutional courage returned.

"Let him try it," she thought to herself. "If he had come ten minutes ago
it would have been awful, but now I don't care."