not what had happened to it. I seized the ropes attached to the
boom of the sail, I pulled, I jerked, I hauled; I did not know what I
was doing. I did nothing. At last, in utter despair and exhaustion, I
fell to the deck.

But before the wind had almost died away, and in the afternoon the sea
was perfectly calm, and when the sun set I could plainly see the
steamer on the faroff edge of the glistening water. During the whole
of the next day I saw her. She neither disappeared nor came nearer.
Sometimes I was in the depths of despair; sometimes I began to hope a
little; but I had one great solace in the midst of my misery--Bertha
knew that I loved her. I was positively sure that my words had been
heard.

It was a strange manner in which I had told my love. I had roared my
burning words of passion through a speaking-trumpet, and I had told
them not to Bertha herself, but to Mary Phillips. But the manner was of
no importance. Bertha now knew that I loved her. That was everything to
me.

As long as light remained I watched _La Fidelite_ through the glass,
but I could see nothing but a black form with a slanting upper line.
She was becalmed as I was. Why could she not have been becalmed near
me? I dared not let my mind rest upon the opportunities I had lost when
she had been becalmed near me. During the night the wind must have
risen again, for the _Sparhawk_ rolled and dipped a good deal,
troubling my troubled slumbers. Very early in the morning I was
awakened by what sounded like a distant scream. I did not know whether
it was a dream or not; but I hurried on deck. The sun had not risen,
but as I looked about I saw something which took away my breath; which
made me wonder if I were awake, or dreaming, or mad.

It was Bertha's steamer within hailing distance!

Above the rail I saw the head and body of Mary Phillips, who was
screaming through the trumpet. I stood and gazed in petrified
amazement.

I could not hear what Mary Phillips said. Perhaps my senses were
benumbed. Perhaps the wind was carrying away her words. That it was
blowing from me toward her soon became too evident. The steamer was
receding from the _Sparhawk_. The instant I became aware of this my
powers of perception and reasoning returned to me with a burning flash.

Bertha was going away from me--she was almost gone.

Snatching my trumpet, I leaned over the rail and shouted with all my
might: "Did you hear me say I loved her? Did you tell her?"