ick glance back toward the naphtha. The sky had become
overcast, and distant objects were not so easily discernible on the
surface of the water, but he made out her lights--two! She was head on
for him.

He looked steadily ahead again. The grim line of out-jutting rocks--a
black shadow against the sky--exercised a weird fascination for him. He
was well out in the open now where the wind blew a half-gale. His figure
was wet from the sea but he felt no chill. Suddenly the hand gripping
the tiller tightened, and his heart gave a great bound; then sank. Not
far from that portentous point of land he saw another light--green! A
boat was emerging from the big basin of water beyond. The starboard
signal, set high above the waves, belonged to no small craft such as the
woman had embarked in. The sight of it fitted a contingency that had
flashed through his brain on the beach. The realization left him
helpless now--his last opportunity was gone!

He shifted the tiller violently, recklessly. At that moment a shrill
whistle from behind reminded him once more of the naphtha; he could have
laughed. What was the wretched little puffing thing to him now? The
single green light--that alone was the all in all. It belonged to the
_Nevski_ he was sure; for one reason or another she had but made
pretense of going to sea, and, instead, had come here--to wait. The
woman was on her now, and, also--The thought maddened him.

Again that piercing whistle! The naphtha was coming up fast; amid the
turmoil of his thoughts he realized this vaguely. He did not wish to
find himself delivered unto them yet--not just yet! A wilder
recklessness seized him. Clouds sped across the heavens like gripping
furies' hands; the water ran level to his boat's gunwales but he refused
to ease her. All the while he was drawing nearer the single green
light--a mocking light, signal of a mocking chase that had led, and
could lead, to nothing. Still he went on, tossed by the waves--sport of
them. He had to play the play out. Oh, to see better, to visualize to
the utmost the last scene of his poignant drama of failure!

In the naphtha some one's voice belched through a megaphone; he laughed
outright now. Come and get him, if they wanted him! He would give them
as merry a dash as possible. His boat raced madly through the
water--nearer, yet nearer the green light. Now a large dark outline
loomed before him; he would have to stop, to come about in a moment,
or--A great w