th and temerity.

Just set afloat by the tide, the old boat rocked against the quay; but
Giles was pottering afar, and did not see, and could not hear. The weak
pair made forward with one consent, till at the boat Christian halted and
stept down.

Along the quay came lounging hateful curiosity; Philip was there, with
half a score more. Rhoda faced round bravely; her fear was overborne by
intense indignation; she was half a child still, loyal, reckless, and
wild to parade before one and all her high regard for the victim of their
brutal outrage: her esteem, her honour, her love. From the quay above she
called to Christian, knelt, reached across, took him by the neck, and
kissed him there for all the world to see. Afterwards she knew that all
the child in her died on the kiss and left her full woman.

She kissed him first, and then she saw into his eyes: Christian was mad.

In terror she sprang up, looking for help vainly and too late. Giles was
far off, slow of hearing, slow of foot; and the madman was casting off,
and the boat began to rock away. In desperation she leapt across the
widening interspace, and fell headlong and bruised beside him. The boat
slanted off and went rollicking over the tumbled waves. All his mad mind
and his gathered strength were given to hoist the sail.

Far back had the quay floated when the desperate girl rose. Giles was
discernable making vehement gestures of recall. She stood up and answered
with imploring hands, and with useless cries too. Christian never heeded.
Then she even tried her strength against him, but at that the mad eyes
turned so fierce and dangerous that she shrank away as though he had
struck her.

None of the coral fleet was out on the rising wind and sea, and stray
sails were standing in; yet Christian, frantically blind, was making for
his old station on the fishing shoals. The old boat went eagerly over the
waves under a large allowance of sail; the swift furrow of her keel
vanished under charging crests. Low sank the shore, the dark verdure of
it faded, the white houses of it dimmed. The strong, terrible sea was
feeling his strength as a god when his pulses stir him to play.

Overhead a sea-gull dipped and sailed; it swooped low with a wild note.
Christian looked up and laughed aloud. In an instant the boat lay for the
west, and leaped and quivered with new speed.

Scudding for harbourage, under a corner of sail, two stout luggers
passed; and the men, watching t