They went down to the harbor and took a boat; Seaton came nearer, and
learned they were going on board the great steamer bound for England,
that loomed so black, with monstrous eyes of fire.

They put off, and Seaton stood baffled.

Presently the black monster, with enormous eyes of fire, spouted her
steam like a Leviathan, and then was still; next the smoke puffed, the
heavy paddles revolved, and she rushed out of the harbor; and Seaton sat
down upon the ground, and all seemed ended. Helen gone to England!
Wardlaw gone with her! Love and revenge had alike eluded him. He looked
up at the sky and played with the pebbles at his feet, stupidly,
stupidly. He wondered why he was born; why he consented to live a single
minute after this. His angel and his demon gone home together! And he
left here!

He wrote a few lines on the paper he had intended for Wardlaw, sprinkled
them with sand, and put them in his bosom, then stretched himself out
with a weary moan, like a dying dog, to wait the flow of the tide, and,
with it, Death. Whether or not his resolution or his madness could have
carried him so far cannot be known, for even as the water rippled in,
and, trickling under his back, chilled him to the bone, a silvery sound
struck his ear. He started to his feet, and life and its joys rushed back
upon him. It was the voice of the woman he loved so madly.

Helen Rolleston was on the water, coming ashore again in the little boat.

He crawled, like a lizard, among the boats ashore to catch a sight of
her. He did see her, was near her, unseen himself. She landed with her