d to Marguerite--a voice from her
old home, calling her back to life.

With joy La Pommeraye had sighted once more the rocky point of land upon
the horizon. But a keen pang of disappointment seized him when he looked
in vain for the signal which had told him there was yet life on the
island. Could they have perished in the storm? Could his approach, when
they were on the verge of the grave, have served only to tantalise them,
and make the end the harder? Such thoughts beat in his brain, as he
vainly watched for any sign of life.

At last Etienne touched his arm.

"Look, Monsieur, they live! There stand two figures on yonder cliff."

As he spoke, all eyes turned towards the projecting spur, and as the
keen-visioned sailors caught sight of Marguerite and her uncouth
companion, they fell on their knees and crossed themselves in holy awe.
La Pommeraye quickly had the sails run down and the anchor dropped; and
before Marguerite could leave her station, the gun boomed forth its
welcome.

Down to the beach she went to meet the approaching boat, and even La
Pommeraye was awed when he saw her figure coming towards him.

Her clothes had been patched and mended till it was impossible to mend
them any longer, and they now hung in tatters about her. Her hair, once
so black and glossy, was streaked with white, and her face wore the look
of one who has known all that life has to give of joy and of sorrow, and
who has walked in the presence of death as with a friend. By her side
shambled the young bear, a shaggy, ferocious-looking monster, enough of
itself to strike terror to the hearts of the amazed sailors. The men in
the boat lost their courage, and their nerveless hands refused to grasp
the oars. But the stern, commanding voice of La Pommeraye restored
their presence of mind. The boat's keel grated on the rocks, and La
Pommeraye leaped ashore and fell on his knees before the pale ghost of
the woman he had loved so faithfully, and followed through half the
world.

"Mademoiselle!" he said, but he could get no further. His heart had
risen in his throat, and was choking him. She, too, stood like one
stunned, her knees trembling, her brain swimming. She would have fallen,
but that she took his extended hand to support herself.

The bear had been growling uneasily at her side, and when he saw La
Pommeraye's hand touch his mistress, he gave a savage growl, and was
about to spring upon the intruder. Marguerite bade him down, and t