her whole world empty, - he was gone! As in a dream she heard the
grating of the pebbles when he pushed his boat into the water, heard the
clank of the oars as they dropped into the oar-locks. Even yet she did
not move. Then, after many minutes, she crept to the opening and
searched the sea with eyes almost, too dim with tears to find that for
which she sought. But yes, there it was, - a black speck against the
golden sunset. She watched until she had seen the distant vessel put
about, making for the open sea. Ah, now she knew that he was safe
aboard, - no need had they to come farther into shore. Yet still she
waited, straining her eyes to see the ship sink slowly beneath the
horizon. One last glint of sunlight against a white sail, and it was
gone.

Then at once she rose, and moving quietly about the little cavern, she
put all in perfect order with touch as tender as that of a mother
preparing for its last sleep some little child. Here was the basket he
had helped to weave, here the mat on which he had lain. Her fingers
lingered caressingly on each thing that he had touched. There in the
corner still stood the olla in which she had brought him water. How
amused he had been that she could carry it on her head all the way up
the hill from the spring without so much as spilling one drop! But that
was all past now.

When at last everything was finished she gave the little rock-walled
room one long, lingering look, the look of one who would carry in his
heart the image of what he beholds all the rest of his life. Then she,
too, made her way through the doorway into the deepening dusk.