The burning bars of saffron widened in the western heavens, - shafts of turquoise-blue, pale rose, and chrysoprase flashed down towards the sea like reflections from the glory of some un barred gate of Paradise, - and the sun, flaming with August fires, suddenly burst forth in all his splendour. Full on Combmartin, with its grey old church, stone cottages, and thatched roofs overgrown with flowers, the cheerful radiance fell, bathing it from end to end in a shower of gold, - the waves running into the quiet harbour caught the lustrous glamour and shone with deep translucent glitterings of amber melting into green, - and through the shadows of the room where the solitary little student sat at work, a bright ray came dancing, and glistened on his bent head like the touch of some passing angel's benediction. Just then the door opened, and a young man entered, clad in white boating flannels.

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