"Your ship is--at--St.James!" "Yes, my ship is at St.James, Marion!" His voice was tremulous with triumph, with gladness, with a tenderness which he could not control.

He put an arm half round her waist to support her trembling form and to his joy she did not move away from him.

His hand was buried in the richness of her loose hair.

He bent until his lips touched her silken tresses.
"Neil has told me everything--about you," he added softly.

"My ship is bombarding St.James, and I am going to take you from the island!" Not until then did Marion free herself from his arm and then so gently that when she stood facing him he felt no reproof.