my Martin had come to dwell might grow beautiful and strong and
worthy of him; how I felt charged with another and still greater
responsibility to guard and protect her with my life itself if need be.

"Yes, yes, my very life itself," I thought.

Perhaps this was a sort of delirium, born of my great love, my hard
work, and my failing strength. I did not know, I did not care.

All that mattered to me then was one thing only--that whereas hitherto I
had thought Martin was so far gone from me that not Time but only
Eternity would bring us together, now I felt that he was coming back and
back to me--nearer and nearer and nearer every day.

MEMORANDUM BY MARTIN CONRAD

My dear, noble little woman was right in more ways than she knew.

At that very time I was in literal truth hurrying home to her as fast as
the fastest available vessel could carry me.

As soon as we had boarded the _Scotia_ at the Cape and greeted our old
shipmates, we shouted for our letters.

There were some for all of us and heaps for me, so I scuttled down to my
cabin, where I sorted the envelopes like a pack of cards, looking for
the small delicate hand that used to write my letters and speeches.

To my dismay it was not there, and realizing that fact I bundled the
letters into a locker and never looked at them again until we were two
days out--when I found they were chiefly congratulations from my
committee, the proprietor of my newspaper, and the Royal Geographical
Society, all welcome enough in their way, but Dead Sea fruit to a man
with an empty, heaving heart.

Going up on deck I found every face about me shining like the aurora,
for the men had had good news all round, one having come into a fortune
and another into the fatherhood of twins, and both being in a state of
joy and excitement.

But all the good fellows were like boys. Some of them (with laughter
seasoned by a few tears) read me funny bits out of their wives'
letters--bits too that were not funny, about having "a pretty fit of
hysterics" at reading bad news of us and "wanting to kiss the newsboy"
when he brought the paper contradicting it.

I did my best to play the game of rejoicing, pretending I had had good
news also, and everything was going splendid. But I found it hard enough
to keep it going, especially while we were sailing back to the world, as
we called it, and hearing from the crew the news of what had happened
while we had been away.

First, there was the re