Round the extreme point of the headland, which in a succession of uncouth shapes dropped its rocky outline into the shadowy purple sea, there was visible, hastily clambering across pathless boulders, another man, of a young and lithe figure, and with something in the eager, forward thrust of the head, crouching gait, and swift, deft footing that resembled an animal of the cat species when about to leap on its prey.  He was evidently making for the cove, but would have to take the rope path in order to reach it, as there was no way of approaching it on that side except over the sheer face of rock.  Marie was further from the rope than he was, but her path was easier.  The moment her eye caught sight of the crouching, creeping figure, she sped like a hare down the path, till she reached a point at which she was on a level with the man, at a distance of about a hundred feet.  There she stood, uncertain a moment, then turned to meet him.  He seemed too intent on his object in the cove to notice her advance, till she was within speaking distance, when she suddenly called to him “Pierre!”

Her clear, defiant tone put the meaning of a whole discourse into the word.  The man turned sharply round with an expression of vindictive malice in his fox-like face.

“Well, what do you want?”

“What are you doing here, please?”

“What’s that to you, I should like to know?”

“Come nearer, then I can hear what you say.”

“I sha’n’t come no nearer than I choose.”

“Don’t be afraid.  I ain’t a-goin’ to hurt you!”

The taunt seemed to have effect, for he leaped hurriedly along over the rocky path, with an angry, threatening air that would have frightened some girls.  Marie stood like the rock beneath her.

“Now, Miss, I’ll teach you to come interfering with business that’s none o’ yourn.  What, you thought you’d come after me, did yer? because you was tired o’ waitin’ for me to come after you again, I suppose.”

“What is that you’re carryin’ in your belt?” she demanded calmly.  A handle was seen sticking up under his fisherman’s blouse.  “You believe its safer to climb the rocks with a butcher’s knife in your pocket, do you?  You think in case of an accident it would make you fall a bit softer, hey?”

“It don’t matter to you what I’ve got in my pocket,” he rejoined, but his tone was uncertain.  “I brought it to cut the tackle—­we’ve got a job of mending to do.”

“I don’t know whether you think me an idiot,” she replied; “but if you want me to believe your stories you’d better invent ’em more reasonable.  Now, Pierre, this is what you’ve got to do before you leave this spot.  You’ve got to promise me solemnly not to go near Daddy, nor threaten him as you once threatened me on a day you may remember, nor try to intimidate him into takin’ you back.  Neither down in the cove, nor anything else:  neither now, nor at any other time.”