ould best
appreciate fidelity and mourn its fate.

But, as he drew near Helen, he dried his eyes; for it was his duty to
comfort her.

She had at first endeavored to follow him; but after a few steps her
knees smote together, and she was fain to sit down on the grassy slope
that overlooked the sea.

The sun was setting huge and red over that vast and peaceful sea.

She put her hands to her head, and, sick at heart, looked heavily at that
glorious and peaceful sight. Hazel came up to her. She looked at his
face, and that look was enough for her. She rocked herself gently to and
fro.

"Yes," said he, in a broken voice. "He was there--quite dead."

He sat gently down by her side, and looked at that setting sun and
illimitable ocean, and his heart felt deadly sad. "He is gone--and we are
alone--on this island."

The man said this in one sense only. But the woman heard it in more than
one.

ALONE!

She glanced timidly round at him, and, without rising, edged a little
away from him, and wept in silence.

CHAPTER XXVI.

AFTER a long silence, Hazel asked her in a low voice if she could be
there in half an hour. She said yes, in the same tone, but without
turning her head. On reaching the graves, she found that Hazel had spared
her a sad sight; nothing remained but to perform the service. When it was
over she went slowly away in deep distress on more accounts than one. In
due course Hazel came to her bower, but she was not there. Then he
lighted the fire, and prepared everything for supper; and he was so busy,
and her foot so light, he did not hear her come. But by and by, lifting
his head, he saw her looking wistfully at him, as if she would read his
soul in his minutest actions. He started and brightened all over with
pleasure at the sudden sight of her, and said eagerly, "Your supper is
quite ready."

"Thank you, sir," said she, sadly and coldly (she had noted that
expression of joy), "I have no appetite; do not wait for me." And soon
after strolled away again.

Hazel was dumfounded. There was no mistaking her manner; it was chilly
and reserved all of a sudden. It wounded him; but he behaved like a man.
"What! I keep her out of her own house, do I?" said he to himself. He
started up, took a fish out of the pot, wrapped it in a leaf, and stalked
off to his boat. Then he ate a little of the fish, threw the rest away,
and went down upon the sands, and paced them in a sad and bitter mood.

But the night ca