She opened the attack with the desperate courage which is in all mothers when they think for their children, howsoever mean the thoughts may be.

“Ye two men, ye’re both in love with my Sarah!”

Their bashful silence gave consent to the barefaced proposition. She went on.

“Neither of ye has much!” Again they tacitly acquiesced in the soft impeachment.

“I don’t know that either of ye could keep a wife!” Though neither said a word their looks and bearing expressed distinct dissent. Mrs. Trefusis went on:

“But if ye’d put what ye both have together ye’d make a comfortable home for one of ye—and Sarah!” She eyed the men keenly, with her cunning eyes half shut, as she spoke; then satisfied from her scrutiny that the idea was accepted she went on quickly, as if to prevent argument:

“The girl likes ye both, and mayhap it’s hard for her to choose. Why don’t ye toss up for her? First put your money together—ye’ve each got a bit put by, I know. Let the lucky man take the lot and trade with it a bit, and then come home and marry her. Neither of ye’s afraid, I suppose! And neither of ye’ll say that he won’t do that much for the girl that ye both say ye love!”

Abel broke the silence:

“It don’t seem the square thing to toss for the girl! She wouldn’t like it herself, and it doesn’t seem—seem respectful like to her—” Eric interrupted. He was conscious that his chance was not so good as Abel’s, in case Sarah should wish to choose between them:

“Are ye afraid of the hazard?”

“Not me!” said Abel, boldly. Mrs. Trefusis, seeing that her idea was beginning to work, followed up the advantage.

“It is settled that ye put yer money together to make a home for her, whether ye toss for her or leave it for her to choose?”

“Yes,” said Eric quickly, and Abel agreed with equal sturdiness. Mrs. Trefusis’ little cunning eyes twinkled. She heard Sarah’s step in the yard, and said:

“Well! here she comes, and I leave it to her.” And she went out.

During her brief walk on the hillside Sarah had been trying to make up her mind. She was feeling almost angry with both men for being the cause of her difficulty, and as she came into the room said shortly:

“I want to have a word with you both—come to the Flagstaff Rock, where we can be alone.” She took her hat and went out of the house up the winding path to the steep rock crowned with a high flagstaff, where once the wreckers’ fire basket used to burn. This was the rock which formed the northern jaw of the little harbour. There was only room on the path for two abreast, and it marked the state of things pretty well when, by a sort of implied arrangement, Sarah went first, and the two men followed, walking abreast and keeping step. By this time, each man’s heart was boiling with jealousy. When they came to the top of the rock, Sarah stood against the flagstaff, and the two young men stood opposite her. She had chosen her position with knowledge and intention, for there was no room for anyone to stand beside her. They were all silent for a while; then Sarah began to laugh and said:—