Had I been mistaken? Was it all delirium?

Again I strained my ears, and again I heard the voice.

"Come, Roger, I am all alone. Oh come to me!"

I answered, but whether articulately or no I cannot say; the words I
said in my heart were,

"I am coming, Ruth, I am coming."

Then it seemed to me that the broad waste of waters reiterated my
words, until away in the far distance, where the sea lost itself in the
sky, I could hear them repeated "I am coming, Ruth, I am coming."

I know that this will seem strange to whoever may read it, but I only
speak the truth. Perhaps my sons and my sons' sons may say it was
simply the result of an overwrought mind; but I believe otherwise.

For hours I walked the deck, but I heard nothing more. I expected
nothing. I weighed what I had seen in my dreams, and connected it with
what I had heard in my waking moments. What did it mean? First my
fears said it was but the deceitful words of the devil, who would drag
me deeper into sin. But my heart cast that off. I felt that there was
no evil agency at work. Then I thought it was only a dream; but how
could that be? Why should it come that night, exactly ten years from
the time I had left home, and why should I hear the voice afterwards?
And so I came to the conclusion that I had been allowed by God to know
that I was needed at home.

The thought gave me new life, new energy. The passion of my hatred was
stunned by some greater passion. If my dream were indeed true, if the
voice were not a mockery, Ruth was not yet married, and she loved me.
For hours I lived in blissful ecstasy, the smooth waters were written
all over with messages of joy, the sky seemed full of the angels of God.

Then I became possessed of a feverish anxiety to return home. I must
not lose a minute, but great difficulties lay in the way. I was
thousands of miles from England, and there were no civilised ports we
dared enter. Piracy on the high seas is a crime, and so there would be
great difficulty in landing at any port from which I could sail for
home. But the difficulty must be managed somehow. Ruth wanted me, and
I would go home.

I must speak to the captain at once, he could sympathise with me; he
would help me.

Then I saw a streak of gold shoot across the waters, and soon the sea
was flooded with glory. The king of day rose, triumphant, grand. The
night was over, and I felt the light of day in my heart.

I turned to the gangway a