rows
that strike the rest will spare me."

I saw him for the third time in a wrecked ship, stranded on a wild,
sandy shore. The overloaded boats were making away from him for the
land, and he alone was left to sink with the ship. I cried to him to
hail the hindmost boat, and to make a last effort for his life. The
quiet face looked at me in return, and the unmoved voice gave me back
the changeless reply. "Another step on the journey. Wait and look.
The Sea which drowns the rest will spare me."

I saw him for the last time. He was kneeling by a tomb of white
marble, and the shadow of a veiled woman rose out of the grave beneath
and waited by his side. The unearthly quiet of his face had changed to
an unearthly sorrow. But the terrible certainty of his words remained
the same. "Darker and darker," he said; "farther and farther yet.
Death takes the good, the beautiful, and the young--and spares me. The
Pestilence that wastes, the Arrow that strikes, the Sea that drowns,
the Grave that closes over Love and Hope, are steps of my journey, and
take me nearer and nearer to the End."

My heart sank under a dread beyond words, under a grief beyond tears.
The darkness closed round the pilgrim at the marble tomb--closed round
the veiled woman from the grave--closed round the dreamer who looked on
them. I saw and heard no more.

I was aroused by a hand laid on my shoulder. It was Laura's.

She had dropped on her knees by the side of the sofa. Her face was
flushed and agitated, and her eyes met mine in a wild bewildered
manner. I started the instant I saw her.

"What has happened?" I asked. "What has frightened you?"

She looked round at the half-open door, put her lips close to my ear,
and answered in a whisper--

"Marian!--the figure at the lake--the footsteps last night--I've just
seen her! I've just spoken to her!"

"Who, for Heaven's sake?"

"Anne Catherick."

I was so startled by the disturbance in Laura's face and manner, and so
dismayed by the first waking impressions of my dream, that I was not
fit to bear the revelation which burst upon me when that name passed
her lips. I could only stand rooted to the floor, looking at her in
breathless silence.

She was too much absorbed by what had happened to notice the effect
which her reply had produced on me. "I have seen Anne Catherick! I
have spoken to Anne Catherick!" she repeated as if I had not heard her.
"Oh, Marian, I have such things to tell