way out into the
tumult.

They found Diamond tramping and snorting with fright at the back of
the hut, but to Burke's brief command and Sylvia's touch he stood
still.

"Get up!" Burke said to the girl.

But she started and drew back. "Oh no--no!" she cried back to him.
"I will go on foot."

He said no more, merely turned and hoisted Guy upwards. He landed
in the saddle, instinctively gripping with his knees while Burke on
one side, Sylvia on the other, set his feet in the stirrups.

Then still in that utter silence Burke went back to Sylvia. He had
lifted her before she was aware, and for one breathless moment he
held her. Then she also was up on the horse's back. He thrust her
hands away from him, pushing them into Guy's belt with a mastery
that would brook no resistance.

"Wake up!" he yelled to Guy, and smote him on the thigh as he
dragged the bridle free.

Then, slipping and sliding on the yielding ground, he pulled the
horse round, gave the rein, into Guy's clutching hand, and struck
the animal smartly on the flank. Diamond squealed and sprang
forward bearing his double burden, and in a moment he was off,
making for the higher ground and the track that led to the farm,
terrified yet blindly following the instinct that does not err.

The sound of the scrambling, struggling hoofs was lost in the
strife of waters, the swaying figures disappeared in the gloom, and
the man who was left behind turned grimly and went back into the
empty hut.

The candle still cast a flickering light over table and bed. He
stood with his back to the raging night and stared at the unsteady
flame. It was screened from extinction in the draught by a
standing photograph-frame. The picture this contained was turned
away from him. After a moment it caught his attention. He moved
round the table. Though Death were swooping towards him, swift and
certain, on the wings of the rising current, he was drawn as a
needle to the magnet. Like a dying man, he reached for the last
draught that should slake his thirst and give him peace in dying.

He leaned upon the table, that creaked and shook beneath his
weight. He stretched forth his arms on each side of the candle,
and drew the portrait close to the flame. Sylvia's face laughed at
him through the shifting, uncertain light. She was standing on a
wind-blown open space. Her lips were parted. He thought he heard
her voice, calling him. And the love in her eyes--the love th