and stones. As it was rather an elevated spot,
the sea, as seen from there, appeared to be rimmed, as in a bowl, and
the _Leopoldine_, now a mere point, appeared sailing up the incline of
that immense circle. The water rose in great slow undulations, like the
upheavals of a submarine combat going on somewhere beyond the horizon;
but over the great space where Yann still was, all dwelt calm.

Gaud still gazed at the ship, trying to fix its image well in her brain,
so that she might recognise it again from afar, when she returned to the
same place to watch for its home-coming.

Great swells now rolled in from the west, one after another, without
cessation, renewing their useless efforts, and ever breaking over the
same rocks, foaming over the same places, to wash the same stones.
The stifled fury of the sea appeared strange, considering the absolute
calmness of the air and sky; it was as if the bed of the sea were too
full and would overflow and swallow up the strand.

The _Leopoldine_ had grown smaller and smaller, and was lost in the
distance. Doubtless the under-tow carried her along, for she moved
swiftly and yet the evening breezes were very faint. Now she was only
a tiny, gray touch, and would soon reach the extreme horizon of all
visible things, and enter those infinite regions, whence darkness was
beginning to come.

Going on seven o'clock, night closed, and the boat had disappeared. Gaud
returned home, feeling withal rather brave, notwithstanding the tears
that uncontainably fell. What a difference it would have been, and what
still greater pain, if he had gone away, as in the two preceding years,
without even a good-bye! While now everything was softened and bettered
between them. He was really her own Yann, and she knew herself to be so
truly loved, notwithstanding this separation, that, as she returned
home alone, she felt at least consoled by the thought of the delightful
waiting for that "soon again!" to be realized to which they had pledged
themselves for the autumn.

CHAPTER II--THE FIRST OF THE FLEET

The summer passed sadly, being hot and uneventful. She watched anxiously
for the first yellowed leaves, and the first gathering of the swallows,
and blooming of the chrysanthemums. She wrote to Yann several times by
the boats bound for Rykawyk, and by the government cruisers, but one
never can be sure of such letters reaching their destination.

Towards the end of July, she received a letter from