my trial! Why, did you think, Hubert, 'twas the court
or the hanging I was shirking? No, no; not that; but IT--the red horror!
I must get away from IT to the sea--to the water--to wash away the
stain--as far from IT--that red pool--as possible!"

I answered nothing. I left him to face his own remorse in silence.

At last he rose to go, and held one foot undecided on his bicycle.

"I leave myself in Heaven's hands," he said, as he lingered. "IT will
requite.... The ordeal is by water."

"So I judged," I answered.

"Tell Lina this from me," he went on, still loitering: "that if she will
trust me, I will strive to do the best that remains for my darlings. I
will do it, Heaven helping. She will know WHAT, to-morrow."

He mounted his machine and sailed off. My eyes followed him up the path
with sad forebodings.

All day long I loitered about the Gap. It consisted of two bays--the one
I had already seen, and another, divided from it by a saw-edge of rock.
In the further cove crouched a few low stone cottages. A broad-bottomed
sailing boat lay there, pulled up high on the beach. About three
o'clock, as I sat and watched, two men began to launch it. The sea ran
high; tide coming in; the sou'-wester still increasing in force to a
gale; at the signal-staff on the cliff, the danger-cone was hoisted.
White spray danced in air. Big black clouds rolled up seething from
windward; low thunder rumbling; a storm threatened.

One of the men was Le Geyt, the other a fisherman.

He jumped in, and put off through the surf with an air of triumph. He
was a splendid sailor. His boat leapt through the breakers and flew
before the wind with a mere rag of canvas. "Dangerous weather to be
out!" I exclaimed to the fisherman, who stood with hands buried in his
pockets, watching him.

"Ay that ur be, zur!" the man answered. "Doan't like the look o' ut. But
thik there gen'leman, 'ee's one o' Oxford, 'ee do tell me; and they'm a
main venturesome lot, they college volk. 'Ee's off by 'isself droo the
starm, all so var as Lundy!"

"Will he reach it?" I asked, anxiously, having my own idea on the
subject.

"Doan't seem like ut, zur, do ut? Ur must, an' ur mustn't, an' yit again
ur must. Powerful 'ard place ur be to maake in a starm, to be zure,
Lundy. Zaid the Lord 'ould dezide. But ur 'ouldn't be warned, ur
'ouldn't; an' voolhardy volk, as the zayin' is, must go their own
voolhardy waay to perdition!"

It was the last I saw of Le Geyt aliv