show beyond the lamp in the window. The dawn was drawing near.

As one awaking from a trance of terrible visions, the girl drew a deep
breath and spoke:

"Adam!"

He did not stir. He had not stirred for the greater part of an hour.

She made a curiously jerky movement, as if she wrenched herself free
from some constricting hold. She went to the bowed, despairing figure.

"Adam, the day is breaking. The tide must be on the turn. Shan't we go?"

He stood up with the gesture of an old man. "What's the good?" he said.
"Do you think I want to see my boy's dead body left behind by the sea?"

She shivered at the question. "But we can't stay here," she urged. "Aunt
Liza, you know--she'll be wondering."

"Ah!" He passed his hand over his eyes. He was swaying a little as he
stood. She supported his elbow, for he seemed to have lost control of
his limbs. He stared at her in a dazed way. "You'd better go and tell
your Aunt Liza," he said. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Maybe my
boy'll come and talk to me if I'm alone. We're partners, you know, and
we lived here a good many years alone together. He wouldn't leave
me--not for the long voyage--without a word. Yes, you go, my dear, you
go! I'll stay here and wait for him."

She saw that no persuasion of hers would move him, and it seemed useless