f his being.
All that it said was one word repeated over and over again,
"God--God--God!" The low whisper beat into his brain and began to grow
there, rising louder and louder in its iteration until the whole vaulted
heaven throbbed with the ringing sound of it. He listened--listened--it
seemed for hours--until his heart burst within him. At last he screamed
and screamed, again and again, "Yes--yes! Now I know--I know!" And still
the sound beat on.

He saw strange shapes in the darkness. One that rose and rose, and grew
and grew, embracing all the others until its head seemed to touch the
stars, and ever it spoke that single word "God--God--God!" He could not
close his eyes, but if he had been able to raise his hand he would have
hid his face. The wind blew softly, it was warm and tender, yet the man
shivered with cold, the sweat beaded his brow.

Then the moon sprang up as suddenly as the sun had fallen. Her silver
radiance flooded the firmament. Light, heavenly light once more! He was
alone. The voice was still; the shadow left him. Far away from him the
white line of the water was breaking on the silver sand. His own cry
came back to him and frightened him in the dead silence.

Now the tide turned and came creeping in. It had gone out slowly; it had
lingered as if reluctant to leave him; but to his distraught vision it
returned with the swiftness of a thousand white horses tossing their
wind-blown manes. The wind died down; the clouds were dissipated. The
night was so very calm, it mocked the storm raging in his soul. And still
the silvered water came flooding in; gently--tenderly--caressingly--the
little waves lapped the sands. At last they lifted the ghastly head of
young Teach--he'd be damnably mouldy a hundred years hence!--and laid
it at his feet.

He cursed the rising water, and bade it stay--and heedlessly it came on.
It was a tropic sea and the waters were as warm as those of any
sun-kissed ocean, but they broke upon his knees with the coldness of
eternal ice. They rolled the heavier body of his faithful slave against
him--he strove to drive it away with his foot as he had striven to
thrust aside the ghastly head, and without avail. The two friends
receded as the waves rolled back but they came on again, and again, and
again. They had been faithful to him in life, they remained with him in
death.

Now the water broke about his waist; now it rose to his breast. He was
exhausted; worn out. He hung silent,