hurriedly picked up her oilskin cape from the floor and
seized her fisherman's hat. Heideck fervently desired to say something
affectionate and tender, but his throat seemed choked as it were by an
invisible hand; he could only utter, in a voice that sounded cold and
dry, the words, "Farewell, my love! farewell!"

When he heard the door close behind her, he started up impetuously, as
if he meant to rush after her and call her back. But after the first
step he stood still and pressed his clenched left hand upon his
violently beating heart. His face, as if turned to stone, wore an
expression of inflexible resolution, and the corners of his mouth were
marked by two deep, sharp lines, as if within this single hour he had
aged ten years.

XXX

EDITH'S LAST JOURNEY

Skipper Brandelaar had given Edith the name of the inn near the harbour,
where he expected a message from Heideck in the course of the night; for
he felt certain that the Major would be anxious to speak to him as soon
as possible.

But he was considerably surprised when, instead of the messenger he
expected, he saw his beautiful disguised passenger enter the low,
smoke-begrimed taproom. He went to meet Edith with a certain clumsy
gallantry, to shield her from the curiosity and importunities of the
men seated with him at the table, whose weatherbeaten faces inspired as
little confidence as their clothing, which smelt of tar and had suffered
badly from wind and weather.

Utterly surprised, he was going to question Edith, but she anticipated
him.

"I must get back to Dover to-night," she said hurriedly, in a low tone.
"Will you take me across? I will pay you what you ask."

The skipper shook his head slowly, but resolutely.

"Impossible. Even if I could leave again, it couldn't be done in such
weather."

"It must be done. The weather is not so bad, and I know you are not the
man to be afraid of a storm."

"Afraid--no! Very likely I have weathered a worse storm than this with
my smack. But there is a difference between the danger a man has to go
through when he cannot escape it, and that to which he foolishly exposes
himself. When I am on a journey, then come what pleases God, but--"

"No more, Brandelaar," interrupted Edith impatiently. "If you cannot, or
will not go yourself, surely one of your acquaintances here is brave and
smart enough to earn a couple of hundred pounds without any difficulty."

The skipper's little eyes twinkled.

"A