her bowsprit for the west. For hours a glimpse could be caught of the
boat, dwindling away on the wave-tops, until at last it vanished into
the haze, and with it vanished the very last link which connected them
with the great world which they were leaving behind them.

But whilst these things had been done, the senseless man beneath the
mast had twitched his eyelids, had drawn a little gasping breath, and
then finally had opened his eyes. His skin was like gray parchment
drawn tightly over his bones, and the limbs which thrust out from his
clothes were those of a sickly child. Yet, weak as he was, the large
black eyes with which he looked about him were full of dignity and
power. Old Catinat had come upon deck, and at the sight of the man and
of his dress he had run forward, and had raised his head reverently and
rested it in his own arms.

"He is one of the faithful," he cried, "he is one of our pastors. Ah,
now indeed a blessing will be upon our journey!"

But the man smiled gently and shook his head. "I fear that I may not
come this journey with you," said he, "for the Lord has called me upon
a further journey of my own. I have had my summons and I am ready.
I am indeed the pastor of the temple at Isigny, and when we heard the
orders of the wicked king, I and two of the faithful with their little
one put forth in the hope that we might come to England. But on the
first day there came a wave which swept away one of our oars and all
that was in the boat, our bread, our keg, and we were left with no hope
save in Him. And then He began to call us to Him one at a time, first
the child, and then the woman, and then the man, until I only am left,
though I feel that my own time is not long. But since ye are also of
the faithful, may I not serve you in any way before I go?"