Sylvia's Lovers

But Hepburn began to wonder what he himself had said--how much of a

promise he had made to deliver those last passionate words of

Kinraid's. He could not recollect how much, how little he had said;

he knew he had spoken hoarsely and low almost at the same time as

Carter had uttered his loud joke. But he doubted if Kinraid had

caught his words.

And then the dread Inner Creature, who lurks in each of our hearts,

arose and said, 'It is as well: a promise given is a fetter to the

giver. But a promise is not given when it has not been received.' At a sudden impulse, he turned again towards the shore when he had

crossed the bridge, and almost ran towards the verge of the land.

Then he threw himself down on the soft fine turf that grew on the

margin of the cliffs overhanging the sea, and commanding an extent

of view towards the north. His face supported by his hands, he

looked down upon the blue rippling ocean, flashing here and there,

into the sunlight in long, glittering lines. The boat was still in

the distance, making her swift silent way with long regular bounds

to the tender that lay in the offing.

Hepburn felt insecure, as in a nightmare dream, so long as the boat

did not reach her immediate destination. His contracted eyes could

see four minute figures rowing with ceaseless motion, and a fifth

sate at the helm. But he knew there was a sixth, unseen, lying,

bound and helpless, at the bottom of the boat; and his fancy kept

expecting this man to start up and break his bonds, and overcome all

the others, and return to the shore free and triumphant.

It was by no fault of Hepburn's that the boat sped well away; that

she was now alongside the tender, dancing on the waves; now emptied

of her crew; now hoisted up to her place. No fault of his! and yet

it took him some time before he could reason himself into the belief

that his mad, feverish wishes not an hour before--his wild prayer to

be rid of his rival, as he himself had scrambled onward over the

rocks alongside of Kinraid's path on the sands--had not compelled

the event.

'Anyhow,' thought he, as he rose up, 'my prayer is granted. God be

thanked!' Once more he looked out towards the ship. She had spread her

beautiful great sails, and was standing out to sea in the glittering

path of the descending sun.

He saw that he had been delayed on his road, and had lingered long.

He shook his stiffened limbs, shouldered his knapsack, and prepared

to walk on to Hartlepool as swiftly as he could.