“Well, I guess I may as well turn back now,” said Pet, half aloud. “I am afraid my search after smugglers is going to be unsuccessful, after all. I haven’t caught anything this evening, that’s certain.”
“But something has caught you, pretty one,” said a voice, close behind her, so close and sudden that Pet jumped round with a startled ejaculation, and found herself face to face with her sometime tutor and discarded lover, Rozzel Garnet.
His face was flushed, his eyes were gleaming with triumph, as he laid one powerful hand on her shoulder, and held her fast.
In one instant the whole danger of her situation flashed upon Pet. She had made this man her deadly enemy; he had probably long waited for an opportunity for revenge—here she was completely in his power, alone on the long, dreary, deserted beach, where her cries, if she uttered any, could reach no ear. Above her towered the high, precipitous, beetling rocks that she could not climb; on the other hand, spread out the boundless ocean, more merciful than him into whose hands she had fallen.
Like lightning, it all passed through her mind, and for one moment she quailed. But then her brave heart rose; this was no time for puerile fears, and she faced round, drew up her slight form to its full height, and met her enemy with a dauntless eye.
“Good-evening, Mr. Garnet,” she said, composedly. “This is an unexpected pleasure. We thought you had gone away.”
“Ah! did you? Gone where, Miss Lawless?” he said, with a sinister smile.
“Well—anywhere—to the county jail, as likely as not; but people don’t always get their deserts in this world.”
“Very true, Miss Pet; but you are, at present, in a fair way to get yours.”
“Humph! You’ll allow me to differ from you, there. I deserve something better than bad company, I hope; so permit me to wish you a very good-evening, Mr. Garnet.”