ied roughly. "You must not swoon! You must not!"

With a strong effort she rallied. "I will try to be brave," she said
plaintively. "I am not frightened,--not very much. But oh! I am cold and
tired!"

He drew her head down upon his knee. "Let it lie there," he said,
speaking as to a tired child. "I will hold you quite steady. Now shut
your eyes and try to sleep. The storm is no worse than it was; and since
the boat has lived this long in this sea, she may live through the
night. And with morning may come many chances of safety. Try to rest in
that hope."

Faint and exhausted from cold and terror, she submitted like a child,
and lay with closed eyes in a sort of stupor within his arms.

There was less lightning now, and the thunder sounded in long booming
peals, instead of short, sharp cannon cracks. The rain, too, had ceased;
but the wind blew furiously, and the sea ran in tremendous waves.
Regulus stirred, groaned, and struggled into a sitting posture. "Lie
down again!" ordered Darkeih. "We 's all on de way to Heaben, but if
nigger shake de boat, we'll get dere befo' de Lawd ready for us. Lie
down!" Regulus, muttering to himself, looked stupidly about him, then
dropped his head back into her lap. In three minutes he was snoring.
Darkeih's whimpering died away, and her turbaned head sank lower and
lower, until it rested upon that of Regulus, and she, too, slept.

Landless sat very still, holding his burden lightly and tenderly, and
staring into the darkness. Against the steep slope of the sea, a picture
framed itself, melted away, and was followed by others in long
procession. He saw a ruinous, ivy-grown hall, and an old, grave, formal
garden, where, between long box hedges broken by fantastic yews, there
walked a boy, book in hand. A man with a stately figure and a stern,
careworn face met the boy, and they leaned upon a broken dial, and the
father reasoned with the son of Right and Truth and Liberty, and
something touched upon the Tyrannicides of old. The yew trees drooped
their sombre boughs about the figures, and they were gone, and in their
place roared and swelled the Chesapeake.... The sound of the storm
became the sound of a battle-cry. He saw a clanging fight where sword
clashed upon armor, and artillery belched fire and thunder, and horse
and man went down in the melee, and were trampled under foot amidst
shrieks and oaths and stern prayers. The boy who had leaned upon the
dial fought coolly, desperately,