e sandy shore,
where he sank down exhausted. Then she woke. "Oh, I dreamed, I dreamed!"
she said, staring round her wildly.

"What?" he asked.

"That it was all over; and afterwards, that I----" and she broke off
suddenly, adding: "But it was all a dream, for we are safe on shore, are
we not?"

"Yes, thank Heaven!" said Morris. "Sit still, and I will make the boat
secure. She has served us a good turn, and I do not want to lose her
after all."

She nodded, and wading into the water, with numbed hands he managed to
lift the little anchor and carry it ashore in his arms.

"There," he said, "the tide is ebbing, and she'll hold fast enough until
I can send to fetch her; or, if not, it can't be helped. Come on, Miss
Fregelius, before you grow too stiff to walk;" and, bending down, he
helped her to her feet.

Their road ran past the nave of the church, which was ruined and
unroofed. At some time during the last two generations, however,
although the parishioners saw that it was useless to go to the cost of
repairing the nave, they had bricked in the chancel, and to within the
last twenty years continued to use it as a place of worship. Indeed,
the old oak door taken from the porch still swung on rusty hinges in the
partition wall of red brick. Stella looked up and saw it.

"I want to look in there," she said.

"Wouldn't it do another time?" The moment did not strike Morris as
appropriate for the examination of ruined churches.

"No; if you don't mind I should like to look now, while I remember, just
for one instant."

So he shrugged his shoulders, and they limped forward up the roofless
nave and through the door. She stared at the plain stone altar, at the
eastern window, of which part was filled with ancient coloured glass
and part with cheap glazed panes; at the oak choir benches, mouldy and
broken; at the few wall-slabs and decaying monuments, and at the roof
still strong and massive.

"I dreamed of a place very like this," she said, nodding her head. "I
thought that I was standing in such a spot in a fearful gale, and that
the sea got under the foundations and washed the dead out of their
graves."

"Really, Miss Fregelius," he said, with some irritation, for the
surroundings of the scene and his companion's talk were uncanny, "do you
think this an occasion to explore ruins and relate nightmares?" Then
he added, "I beg your pardon, but I think that the cold and wet have
affected your nerves; for my part, I