d send you away to
safety if I could; but I must be glad to have you here beside me." For
she was clinging to him, and her head, that had from the first been bent
to avoid the wind, was almost upon his shoulder. A moment ago he had
thought that this would be enough to comfort him if she did not turn
from him; now it was not even the beginning, it was only a divine
possibility. He bent over her. "Before it is too late, my darling," he
said.

But she did not speak. Only, after a moment, she raised her head, and
their eyes met.

The wind shrieked in its fury, the water seethed and hissed, and the
boat rushed on toward the rocks. The two turned their eyes away to watch
the sea, and then back again upon each other.

"It is the water that unites us again," said Archdale, "and this time
forever. My wife, kiss me once here before eternity come."

"Have you no hope?" she asked him.

"It is cruel," he answered. "No, I have none. When we touch the rocks
the boat will go to pieces in an instant. And look at the sea." She
raised her lips to his as he bent over her; no color came into her face;
she was already at the gates of death. She spoke a few low words to
Archdale, and then they stood together in silence.

Through the blackness of the storm they saw the turrets of foam where
the water was raging over the hidden rocks. Elizabeth shivered. "My
father!" she said, brokenly. Stephen could speak no word of comfort. He
could only clasp her more closely as they waited for the fatal crash.
His eyes now rested upon hers, and now measured the distance between the
boat and the breakers.

"What does it mean?" he cried at last. "We are not going directly upon
them now! Can the wind have veered? O God! is there any chance? any of
life with you, Elizabeth? No, it cannot be." His voice had an
unsteadiness that his conviction of the destruction that they were
rushing upon had not given it.

The wind had veered, and in veering had fallen a very little. It no
longer rained in such torrents; but the rain had been a discomfort
unnoticed in the danger. The wind, still furious, and the rocks which
they were nearing, left no one in the boat, thought for the rain.

It grew a little lighter. The vessel gave herself a shake, not like the
straining of the moments before, and rushed on. Yet the wind had lost
something of its force, and it was not now driving directly against the
rocks, as Archdale had seen. It might veer and fall still more befor