ed white in the sun. He
looked in his element, and exceedingly attractive. He called out
something about his fish, and soon after passed out of sight into the
lagoon.

For a time none of us said a word.

"And the cure?" ventured Maloney at length.

"Is not to quench this savage force," replied Dr. Silence, "but to steer
it better, and to provide other outlets. This is the solution of all
these problems of accumulated force, for this force is the raw material
of usefulness, and should be increased and cherished, not by separating
it from the body by death, but by raising it to higher channels. The
best and quickest cure of all," he went on, speaking very gently and
with a hand upon the clergyman's arm, "is to lead it towards its object,
provided that object is not unalterably hostile--to let it find rest
where--"

He stopped abruptly, and the eyes of the two men met in a single glance
of comprehension.

"Joan?" Maloney exclaimed, under his breath.

"Joan!" replied John Silence.

* * * * *

We all went to bed early. The day had been unusually warm, and after
sunset a curious hush descended on the island. Nothing was audible but
that faint, ghostly singing which is inseparable from a pinewood even on
the stillest day--a low, searching sound, as though the wind had hair
and trailed it o'er the world.

With the sudden cooling of the atmosphere a sea fog began to form. It
appeared in isolated patches over the water, and then these patches slid
together and a white wall advanced upon us. Not a breath of air stirred;
the firs stood like flat metal outlines; the sea became as oil. The
whole scene lay as though held motionless by some huge weight in the
air; and the flames from our fire--the largest we had ever made--rose
upwards, straight as a church steeple.

As I followed the rest of our party tent-wards, having kicked the embers
of the fire into safety, the advance guard of the fog was creeping
slowly among the trees, like white arms feeling their way. Mingled with
the smoke was the odour of moss and soil and bark, and the peculiar
flavour of the Baltic, half salt, half brackish, like the smell of an
estuary at low water.

It is difficult to say why it seemed to me that this deep stillness
masked an intense activity; perhaps in every mood lies the suggestion of
its opposite, so that I became aware of the contrast of furious energy,
for it was like moving through the deep pause bef