little she began to walk briskly up and down the little beach still
keeping a sharp look-out at sea for any passing boat.

An interminable hour crawled by. The sun dipped a little lower, flinging
long streamers of scarlet and gold across the sea. Far in the blue vault
of the sky a single star twinkled into view, while a little sighing
breeze arose and whispered of coming night.

Diana shivered in her thin blouse. She had brought no coat with her,
and, now that the mist was rising, she felt chilled to the bone, and she
heartily anathematised her carelessness for getting into such a scrape.

And then, all at once, across the water came the welcome sound of a human
voice:--

"Ahoy! Ahoy there!"

A small brown boat and the figure of the man in it, resting on his oars,
showed sharply etched against the background of the sunset sky.

Diana waved her handkerchief wildly and the man waved back, promptly
setting the boat with her nose towards the chore and sculling with long,
rhythmic strokes that speedily lessened the distance between him and the
eager figure waiting at the water's edge.

As he drew nearer, Diana was struck by something oddly familiar in his
appearance, and when he glanced back over his shoulder to gauge his
distance from the shore, she recognised with a sudden shocked sense of
dismay that the man in the boat was none other than Max Errington!