ay parchment
drawn tightly over his bones, and the limbs which thrust out from his
clothes were those of a sickly child. Yet, weak as he was, the large
black eyes with which he looked about him were full of dignity and
power. Old Catinat had come upon deck, and at the sight of the man and
of his dress he had run forward, and had raised his head reverently and
rested it in his own arms.

"He is one of the faithful," he cried, "he is one of our pastors. Ah,
now indeed a blessing will be upon our journey!"

But the man smiled gently and shook his head. "I fear that I may not
come this journey with you," said he, "for the Lord has called me upon
a further journey of my own. I have had my summons and I am ready.
I am indeed the pastor of the temple at Isigny, and when we heard the
orders of the wicked king, I and two of the faithful with their little
one put forth in the hope that we might come to England. But on the
first day there came a wave which swept away one of our oars and all
that was in the boat, our bread, our keg, and we were left with no hope
save in Him. And then He began to call us to Him one at a time, first
the child, and then the woman, and then the man, until I only am left,
though I feel that my own time is not long. But since ye are also of
the faithful, may I not serve you in any way before I go?"

The merchant shook his head, and then suddenly a thought flashed upon
him, and he ran with joy upon his face and whispered eagerly to Amos
Green. Amos laughed, and strode across to the captain.

"It's time," said Ephraim Savage grimly.

Then the whisperers went to De Catinat. He sprang in the air and his
eyes shone with delight. And then they went down to Adele in her cabin,
and she started and blushed, and turned her sweet face away, and patted
her hair with her hands as woman will when a sudden call is made upon
her. And so, since haste was needful, and since even there upon the
lonely sea there was one coming who might at any moment snap their
purpose, they found themselves in a few minutes, this gallant man and
this pure woman, kneeling hand in hand before the dying pastor, who
raised his thin arm feebly in benediction as he muttered the words which
should make them forever one.

Adele had often pictured her wedding to herself, as what young girl has
not? Often in her dreams she had knelt before the altar with Amory in
the temple of the Rue St. Martin. Or sometimes her fancy had taken