at little silver streak of sea is between us and the
Continent."

"You _do_ love me, Cyril, do you not?" she inquired, slipping her little
hand into mine, and looking into my face with those eyes that seemed to
grow more beautiful with every day I looked into them. "I could not live
without your love now."

"God grant you may never be asked to do so," I answered; "I love you,
dearest, as I believe man never loved woman before, and, come what may,
nothing shall separate us. Surely even death itself could not be so
cruel. But why do you talk in this dismal strain? The miles are slipping
behind us; Pharos, let us hope, is banished from our lives for ever; we
are together, and as soon as we reach London, we shall be man and wife.
No, no, you must not be afraid, Valerie."

"I am afraid of nothing," she answered, "when I am with you. But ever
since we left Berlin I seem to have been overtaken by a fit of
melancholy which I can not throw off. I have reasoned with myself in
vain. Why I should feel like this I can not think. It is only
transitory, I am sure; so you must bear with me; to-morrow I shall be
quite myself again."

"Bear with you, do you say?" I answered. "You know that I will do so.
You have been so brave till now, that I can not let you give way just at
the moment when happiness is within your reach. Try and keep your
spirits up, my darling, for both our sakes. To-morrow, you will be on
the blue sea with the ship's head pointing for old England. And after
that--well, I told you just now what would happen then."

In spite of her promises, however, I found that in the morning my hopes
were not destined to be realized. Though she tried hard to make me
believe that the gloom had passed, it needed very little discernment
upon my part to see that the cheerfulness she affected was all assumed,
and, what made it doubly hard to bear, that it was for my sake.

Our stay at Wittenberge was not a long one. As soon as we had finished
our breakfast, we caught the 8.30 express and resumed our journey to
Hamburg, arriving there a little before midday. Throughout the journey,
Valerie had caused me considerable anxiety. Not only had her spirits
reached a lower level than they had yet attained, but her face, during
the last few hours, had grown singularly pale and drawn, and when I at
last drove her to it, she broke down completely and confessed to feeling
far from well.

"But it can not be anything serious," she cried. "I am s