That night, what with her bell-rope and her little bit of a wall, she was
somewhat less timorous, and went to sleep early.

But even in sleep she was watchful, and she was awakened by a slight
sound in the neighborhood of the boat.

She lay watching, but did not stir.

Presently she heard a footstep.

With a stifled cry she bounded up, and her first impulse was to rush out
of the tent. But she conquered this, and, gliding to the south side of
her bower, she peered through the palm-leaves, and the first thing she
saw was the figure of a man standing between her and the boat.

She drew her breath hard. The outline of the man was somewhat indistinct.
But it was not a savage. The man was clothed; and his stature betrayed
him.

He stood still for some time. "He is listening to see if I am awake,"
said Helen to herself.

The figure moved toward her bower.

Then all in a moment she became another woman. She did not rely on her
bell-rope; she felt it was fast to nothing that could help her. She
looked round for no weapon; she trusted to herself. She drew herself
hastily up, and folded her arms; her bosom panted, but her cheek never
paled. Her modesty was alarmed; her blood was up, and life or death were
nothing to her.

The footsteps came nearer; they stopped at her door; they went north;
they came back south. They kept her in this high-wrought attitude for
half an hour. Then they retired softly; and, when they were gone, she
gave way and fell on her knees and began to cry hysterically. Then she
got calmer, and then she wondered and puzzled herself; but she slept no
more that night.

In the morning she found that the fire was lighted on a sort of shelf
close to the boat. Mr. Hazel had cut the shelf and lighted the fire there
for Welch's sake, who had complained of cold in the night.

While Hazel was gone for the crayfish, Welch asked Helen to go for her
prayer-book. She brought it directly, and turned the leaves to find the
prayers for the sick. But she was soon undeceived as to his intention.

"Sam had it wrote down how the _Proserpine_ was foundered, and I should
like to lie alongside my messmate on that there paper, as well as in
t'other place" (meaning the grave). "Begin as Sam did, that this is my
last word."

"Oh, I hope not. Oh, Mr. Welch, pray do not leave me!"

"Well, well then, never mind that; but just put down as I heard Sam; and
his dying words, that the parson took down, were the truth."

"I ha