istian pray for him
hourly.

His first return was so late that terrors beset all three. The two women
were on the quay when his boat glided in under dusk, and up he stept with
a load. The hearts of both were beating thick for dread of a rich load
that would blast him afresh, for thus in old days had he glided in at
dusk.

But what he bore was only his nets, which he dropped before them. He
stood silent and downcast. They saw that one of the cross-beams was
broken; they saw that the meshes were torn incredibly.

They saw that he was waiting in dumb distress to be told by them if he
were to blame. Ah, dear aching hearts! not a word, not a look was there
to weigh on him in his disappointment. Rhoda stripped off the netting and
carried it home, with a gay boast of proving her proficiency, for she had
learned net-making from Christian in his idle days of weakness. Half the
next day she sat mending, and was proud of her finished task, expecting
some reward of praise. But it never came. The fresh netting he had taken
he brought back torn hideously, so that dismay fell.

Christian and Giles together had met only poor luck, but here came a
stroke of so deliberate an aim that the word misfortune seemed
indifferent to describe it.

And this was but the beginning of a long course; again and again
Christian returned with spoiled nets; and, even on better days, few there
were when his takings were not conspicuously poor in amount and quality.
Such loss was the graver since an instalment was due at the season's
close, and except the dawning autumn brought fair success, sore straits
would come with the winter.

Rhoda proved good for bread-winning. Before, she had practised
lace-making, taught her at the convent school, and now she turned to it
with all her energy. Early and late found her bending over her pillow. No
more net-mending for her: for the sake of unroughened hands she had to
leave that to Christian and the elders. Yet her work was but poorly paid,
and the sale uncertain.

As autumn came in, Christian still gained in physical strength up to near
his old level; but Giles declined slowly, Lois grew thin and worn, and
Rhoda was losing something of her bloom.

The heart of the old man yearned over the girl, and he knew that his time
was but brief. For hours he would sit and watch, fondly and sadly, her
dear bent head and her hands playing over her pillow in a patch of light
under the pinned-back blind. At last he told C