able, and went out.

For a long while he wandered about the quays in a state of gloomy
indecision, stopping every now and then to run his eye over the
shipping, and his expression becoming darker still every time he did so.
From long practice he could tell by the appearance of every vessel what
trade it was engaged in. One was a coffee ship from Java; the next
carried general cargo to all parts of the world; there was another that
brought sugar and rum from the West Indies; and a fourth, that from its
square build and breadth of beam must be a whaler returned from
Spitzbergen. He thought of their long voyages, and of the life without
root or tie that was passed on board them--was he to go back to that
life again? It depended on Elizabeth; and he had not much hope.

To his impatient nature delay was intolerable; and he had half made up
his mind to have his fate decided at once. In spite of his agitation,
however, he could still think with coolness; and he knew that if he was
to have any chance at all, he must wait until the first unfortunate
impression had had time to pass off.

It had been a grey, foggy autumn day, but was now clearing, and blue
patches of sky were coming out; and as he crossed the bridge the
afternoon sun shone out, and sent a ray of glittering light against the
window-panes of the street along the canal. Up in Garvloit's house
Elizabeth was standing at the open window--she, too, that day had needed
to be alone with her thoughts. Salve saw her, and stood still for a
moment contemplating her as she leant out over the window ledge.

"That dear head shall be mine," he burst out then passionately, and
without knowing it, aloud; and the next moment he was at Garvloit's
door.

Elizabeth heard the door of the room open behind her; and when she saw
Salve unexpectedly standing before her, she sank down for a moment on to
a chair, but got up the next with a scared look, almost as if he was
some hostile apparition.

"Elizabeth!" he said, gently, "are you going to send me out again into
the world? God only knows how I shall come back if you do."

She did not answer, but stood looking at him with a rigid expression,
and pale as death; she seemed to have forgotten to breathe, and to be
only waiting for him to say more.

"Be my wife, Elizabeth," he asked, "and I shall grow up into a good man
again. What a pitiful creature I have been without you, you have already
seen sufficiently this morning."

"God be m