She had not "gone astray," she had not been
"vile and sinful altogether"; the woman's abasement of self-blame left
her untouched. The searchlight of conscience revealed sin indeed, but
not of commission. _Lack of level_--that was the flaw--of
whole-hearted, unselfish love which gave all and asked for no return;
love which could transform the commonest events, and make of duty a joy!

Grizel possessed that love; a spring of tenderness and sympathy, welling
within her heart. She had found it easy to live with a querulous old
woman. "She doesn't worry me: I _love_ her!" Katrine heard again the
tone of the deep, rich voice giving the simple explanation. She herself
had placed Martin before all created things, but there had been no
tenderness in her heart. With opened eyes she looked back on the
critical, exacting sentiment which she had called love, and found it
unworthy the name. Her arms tightened round the sleeping child. This
then was the secret of life. Love--"the fulfilment of the law." If
life were spared, it would be the motive spring for which she would
strive; given that, the rest would follow. The women at her side were
imploring for forgiveness, and comfort in death. Katrine prayed for
life. "More life: fuller life! _Fill my mean heart_--!"

Ten minutes later when the rescuing ship steamed into view the sight
which should have brought exhilaration broke down the most sternly-kept
composure. Men and women wept together, wept and laughed, and sobbed
and clung, even the most composed giving way to their emotion now that
the strain was at an end.

On she came, a stately form, summoned by the wondrous message of the
air, racing through the water to the noble work of rescue. Nearer and
nearer, until she was close at hand, and white faces looked down from
the crowded decks. The nightmare of removal from the boat was
accomplished in safety. Katrine felt her waist encircled by a tender
arm, and heard a woman's voice addressing her in tremulous tones. Her
cramped limbs could hardly move, she was half-led, half-carried into a
luxurious cabin, undressed, laid in a warm, fresh bed, fed with soup and
wine. The women who waited upon her shed tears as they worked, but she
herself was dry-eyed. She was thinking of that yellow glimmering light
through the fog, the light of the ship which held her world,--the ship
with a hole in her side...

But an hour later Nancy Mannering came to her bedside with a fac