uling at
the halyards.

Paddy was lying on his right side steeped in profound oblivion. His
face was buried in the crook of his right arm, and his brown tattooed
left hand lay on his left thigh, palm upwards. He had no hat, and the
breeze stirred his grizzled hair.

Dick and Emmeline stole up to him till they got right beside him. Then
Emmeline, flashing out a laugh, flung the little wreath of flowers on
the old man's head, and Dick, popping down on his knees, shouted into
his ear. But the dreamer did not stir or move a finger.

"Paddy," cried Dick, "wake up! wake up!"

He pulled at the shoulder till the figure from its sideways posture
fell over on its back. The eyes were wide open and staring. The mouth
hung open, and from the mouth darted a little crab; it scuttled over
the chin and dropped on the coral.

Emmeline screamed, and screamed, and would have fallen, but the boy
caught her in his arms--one side of the face had been destroyed by the
larvae of the rocks.

He held her to him as he stared at the terrible figure lying upon its
back, hands outspread. Then, wild with terror, he dragged her towards
the little boat. She was struggling, and panting and gasping, like a
person drowning in ice-cold water.

His one instinct was to escape, to fly anywhere, no matter where. He
dragged the girl to the coral edge, and pulled the boat up close. Had
the reef suddenly become enveloped in flames he could not have exerted
himself more to escape from it and save his companion. A moment later
they were afloat, and he was pulling wildly for the shore.

He did not know what had happened, nor did he pause to think: he was
fleeing from horror--nameless horror; whilst the child at his feet,
with her head resting against the gunwale, stared up open-eyed and
speechless at the great blue sky, as if at some terror visible there.
The boat grounded on the white sand, and the wash of the incoming tide
drove it up sideways.

Emmeline had fallen forward; she had lost consciousness.

CHAPTER XXII

ALONE

The idea of spiritual life must be innate in the heart of man, for all
that terrible night, when the children lay huddled together in the
little hut in the chapparel, the fear that filled them was that their
old friend might suddenly darken the entrance and seek to lie down
beside them.

They did not speak about him. Something had been done to him; something
had happened. Something terrible had happened to the world the