down outside in the shadow of the boats. I saved
you your share of the food and drink. Too weak to get at it now! A
little rest, Frank! I shall soon be strong enough to carry you down to
the ship."

The end was near. They all saw it now. The men reverently uncovered
their heads in the presence of Death. In an agony of despair, Frank
appealed to the friends round him.

"Get something to strengthen him, for God's sake! Oh, men! men! I should
never have been here but for him! He has given all his strength to my
weakness; and now, see how strong I am, and how weak _he_ is! Clara, I
held by his arm all over the ice and snow. _He_ kept watch when I was
senseless in the open boat. _His_ hand dragged me out of the waves when
we were wrecked. Speak to him, Clara! speak to him!" His voice failed
him, and his head dropped on Wardour's breast.

She spoke, as well as her tears would let her.

"Richard, have you forgotten me?"

He rallied at the sound of that beloved voice. He looked up at her as
she knelt at his head.

"Forgotten you?" Still looking at her, he lifted his hand with an
effort, and laid it on Frank. "Should I have been strong enough to save
him, if I could have forgotten you?" He waited a moment and turned his
face feebly toward Crayford. "Stay!" he said. "Someone was here and
spoke to me." A faint light of recognition glimmered in his eyes. "Ah,
Crayford! I recollect now. Dear Crayford! come nearer! My mind clears,
but my eyes grow dim. You will remember me kindly for Frank's sake? Poor
Frank! why does he hide his face? Is he crying? Nearer, Clara--I want to
look my last at _you_. My sister, Clara! Kiss me, sister, kiss me before
I die!"

She stooped and kissed his forehead. A faint smile trembled on his
lips. It passed away; and stillness possessed the face--the stillness of
Death.

Crayford's voice was heard in the silence.

"The loss is ours," he said. "The gain is his. He has won the greatest
of all conquests--the conquest of himself. And he has died in the moment
of victory. Not one of us here but may live to envy _his_ glorious
death."

The distant report of a gun came from the ship in the offing, and
signaled the return to England and to home.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Frozen Deep, by Wilkie Collins

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