schooner I'd have twice the chance you'd have."

She put her arms round his neck and kissed him. "You sweet traitor," she
said, "you'd play me false!"

He protested vehemently that he would not deceive her.

"Besides," she said, "I could risk myself, but I couldn't bear to risk
you, Greg."

He tried a last shot. The words almost strangled in his throat.

"And Joe?" he said. "Have you no thought of Joe?"

"Joe loves me," she said--"loves me a thousand times better than you
ever did. Joe's man enough to chance death rather than lose his wife."

"But I won't let you go!" said Gregory.

"You can't stop me," she returned.

He caught her round the body and tried to hold her, but she fought
herself free. His strength was gone; he was as feeble as a child; in
the course of those short hours something seemed to have snapped within
him. Even Madge was startled at his weakness.

"Greg, you're ill!" she cried, as he staggered, and caught at a backstay
to save himself from falling. He sat down on the house and tried to keep
back a sob. Madge stooped, and looked anxiously into his face. She had
known him for two years as a man of unusual sternness and self-control;
obstinate, reserved, willful, and moody, yet one that gave always the
impression of unflinching courage and resolution. It was inexplicable
now to see him crying like a woman, his square shoulders bent and
heaving, his sinewy hands opening and shutting convulsively.

"You're ill," she repeated. "I'll go down and fetch you something."

This pulled him together. "I'm all right, Madge," he said faintly. "I
suppose it's just a touch of the old fever. See, it's passing already."

She watched him in silence. Then she stepped forward, dropped down the
forecastle hatchway, and reappeared with an ax. While he was wondering
what she meant to do, she raised it in the air and crashed it down on
the groaning anchor chain. It parted at the first blow, and the
_Edelweiss_, now adrift, blundered broadside on to leeward.

Madge ran aft, brought the schooner up in the wind, and cried out to
Gregory to get into his boat.

He said sullenly he wouldn't do anything of the kind.

She lashed the wheel and came up to him.

"I mean it, Greg," she said.

"You are going to your death, Madge," he said.

"Get into your boat!" she repeated.

He rose, and slowly began to obey.

"You may kiss me good-by, Greg," she said.

She put up her face to his; their lips met. Then, with her