At sight of a man lying on the rocks at the foot of the cliff, with his head in the water, her heart almost stopped its beating and she almost screamed. He lay so still that for a moment she imagined him to be dead, though the next instant she knew he was not, for he lifted his head to catch a breath. Then he again plunged it into the water, and quick as thought the girl drew up the tackle by which he had lowered himself.
"There," she said to herself; "I guess you will stay where you are, Mister Man, until I can bring papa; and he'll know what to do with you!"
She had drawn in the tackle very cautiously, without noticing the little scraping noise that its lower block made in crossing the rocky ledge, and she turned to go as she spoke.
But she must take one more look, just to see if that horrid man was still there, and what he was doing.
So she very carefully leaned forward and gazed straight down into the upturned face of Richard Peveril.
CHAPTER XX
PEVERIL IS TAKEN FOR A GHOST
The situation in which the two principal characters of this story were left at the close of the preceding chapter was so embarrassing to both that for several seconds they continued to stare at each other in silent amazement. Mary Darrell, her face alternately flushing and paling with confusion, seemed fascinated and incapable of motion. In spite of Peveril's astonishingly disreputable appearance, she at once recognized him as being the young stranger whom she had seen twice before, and had even helped out of an awkward predicament. She also knew that he had in some way aroused her father's enmity. But he had taken his departure from that vicinity several days earlier, and, though she had wondered if he would ever come back, she had not really expected to see him again.