walls of rock, and wondered that when the ocean was so calm they had
still such power. Now, should he live to reach them, he was doomed to
match himself against that power. Well, the sooner he did so the sooner
it would be over, one way or the other. This was in his favour: the tide
had turned, and was flowing shorewards. Indeed, he had little to do but
to rest upon his plank, which he placed crosswise beneath his breast,
and steered himself with his feet. Even thus he made good progress,
nearly a mile an hour perhaps. He could have gone faster had he swum,
but he was saving his strength.

It was a strange journey upon that silent sea beneath those silent
stars, and strange thoughts came into Robert's soul. He wondered whether
Benita would live and what she would say. Perhaps, however, she was
already dead, and he would meet her presently. He wondered if he were
doomed to die, and whether this sacrifice of his would be allowed to
atone for his past errors. He hoped so, and put up a petition to that
effect, for himself and for Benita, and for all the poor people who had
gone before, hurled from their pleasure into the halls of Death.

So he floated on while the boom of the breakers grew ever nearer,
companioned by his wild, fretful thoughts, till at length what he took
to be a shark appeared quite close to him, and in the urgency of the
moment he gave up wondering. It proved to be only a piece of wood, but
later on a real shark did come, for he saw its back fin. However, this
cruel creature was either gorged or timid, for when he splashed upon the
water and shouted, it went away, to return no more.

Now, at length, Robert entered upon the deep hill and valley swell which
preceded the field of the rollers. Suddenly he shot down a smooth slope,
and without effort of his own found himself borne up an opposing steep,