Graeme slept that night just as much as might have been expected under the circumstances, and that was not one wink.  Nevertheless, when morning came, he felt as strong and joyous as a young god.  New life had come to him in the night, and he felt equal to the conquering of worlds.  For love is life, and the strength and the joy of it.

He was out with the dawn, to a gray rushing morning full of the sounds of sea and wind.  He drew a canful of water from the well, and had such a wash as no soap and a handkerchief would permit of.  Then he drew another canful and left it outside the door of the ladies’ room, and strode off to Beleme to see if the boats had got back to their anchorage.  But the little bay was a scene of storm and strife, a wild confusion of raging seas and stubborn rocks, the fruits of the conflict flying up the cliffs in spongy gouts of spume, and dappling the waters far and wide with fantasies of troubled marbling,—­and there was not a boat to be seen.

But the sight of the great white seas roaring up the Sark headlands, as far as he could see on either hand, was one never to be forgotten.  It was worth the price they had paid, even though it spelt a further term of captivity, and he turned back to his duties with that new glad glow in his heart which was no longer simply hope but the full and gracious assurance of loftiest attainment.

He had seen potatoes growing in a plot near the house.  So, after lighting a fire in the kitchen and setting the kettle to boil, he rooted about till he found the remains of a spade and set himself to unaccustomed labours.

When Miss Penny came out of her room, freshfaced and comely coiffured, she found a ring of potatoes roasting in the ashes and the kettle boiling, and Graeme came in, bright-eyed and wind-whipped, wiping his hands on a very damp handkerchief.

“I am so glad, Mr. Graeme,” she said, with sparkling eyes and face, and hearty outstretched hand.

“Margaret has told you?”

“Of course Margaret has told me.  Am I not her keeper, and haven’t I been hoping for this since ever I saw you?”

“That is very good of you.  I thought, perhaps—­”

“Thought it might take me by surprise, I suppose—­and perhaps that I might take it badly?  Not a bit!  It fulfils my very highest hopes.  And I can assure you you have got a prize.  There are not many girls like Margaret Brandt.”

“Don’t I know it?  I have known it from the very first time I met her—­at that blessed Whitefriars’ dinner.”

“I think you will make her very happy.”

“I promise you I will do my very best.”

And then Margaret came into the kitchen and knew what was toward.

She looked like a queen and a princess and a goddess all in one, with a flood of happy colour in her face and a glad glow in her eyes, and no more hint of maidenly shyness about her than was right and natural.  And Miss Penny’s eyes were misty of a sudden, as Graeme went quickly up to her friend, and feasted his hungry eyes on her face for a moment, and then bent and gallantly kissed her hand.  For in both their faces was the great glad light that is the very light of life, and Miss Penny was wondering if, in some distant future time, it might perchance be vouchsafed to her also to attain thereto.