wonder if whoever is left cares for grand opera?" said Robin,
rather grimly.

"Why?" asked Adam in so startled a voice that she laughed
hysterically.

"It's the only thing I know well enough to make a living at it," she
said laconically. "I think the fire needs some more wood, Adam."

As he replenished it, her words burned themselves upon his brain, and
he realized in an instant that a return to the old world meant giving
up this supreme friend, all that he had left in the world, all there
was for him in any world. The thing was impossible. He turned to go
back to her, some kind of an impetuous avowal on his lips, but she had
left the boulder and walked down almost to the edge of a precipitous
cliff which they had called "Lover's Leap," in a spirit of badinage.
She stood there quietly, watching the gray dawn, and his heart
impelled him to go to her and take her in his arms. As his love
revealed itself to him in all its power, it seemed impossible that he
should know it now for the first time. Why, why, had he been so blind?
If the ship took them away--

He walked unsteadily down to her, resolved to say nothing. If she
wanted to go, her wish should be sufficient.

The dawn came slowly, but it came at last. As the darkness lifted, a
slight fog settled over the face of the waters. Instinctively they
recalled that other night when they had watched through the mist and
his hand closed over hers. The sun was well up before the east wind
dissipated it, and left only the dancing waves, brilliantly blue,
stretching away into the dawn. On all that broad expanse there was not
so much as a cockle-shell afloat.

Robin turned and looked to right and left in bewilderment, and then at
Adam.

His chest was heaving, and as his eyes searched her face he cried,
"Thank God," and gathered her up in his arms. She nestled there
without a word.

They crossed the gorge and scattered the brands of their watch-fire,
and walked on down to the cove. Suddenly Lassie came bounding toward
them uttering short, excited barks. They quickened their pace, and as
they came in sight of the beach discovered the object of her alarm.
Against a small promontory, lying on one side, was the ship they had
sighted the evening before. It was a hopeless wreck, and had borne to
them no living thing. Yet it had served its purpose. It had revealed
their love for each other, and told them that they had hoped against a
second deluge in vain.

XIV