"It is for you to decide, Katherine. The boat is here. Even I must obey

or disobey orders. Will you not go with me, your husband, to love and

life and honour; or shall I stay with you, for disgrace and death? For

from you I will not part again."

She had no time to consider how much truth there was in this desperate

statement. The boat was waiting. Richard was wooing her consent with

kisses and entreaties. Her own soul urged her, not only by the joy of

his presence, but by the memory of the anguish she had endured that day

in the terror of his desertion. From the first moment she had hesitated;

therefore, from the first moment she had yielded. She clung to her

husband's arm, she lifted her face to his, she said softly, but clearly,

"I will go with you, Richard. With you I will go. Where to, I care not

at all."

They stepped into the boat, and Hyde said, "Oars." Not a word was

spoken. He held her within his left arm, close to his side, and

partially covered with his military cloak. It was the boat belonging to

the commander of "The Dauntless," and the six sailors manning it sent

the light craft flying like an arrow down the bay. All the past was

behind her. She had done what was irrevocable. For joy or for sorrow,

her place was evermore at her husband's side. Richard understood the

decision she was coming to; knew that every doubt and fear had vanished

when her hand stole into his hand, when she slightly lifted her face,

and whispered, "Richard."

They were practically alone upon the misty river; and Richard answered

the tender call with sweet, impassioned kisses; with low, lover-like,

encouraging words; with a silence that thrilled with such soft beat and

subsidence of the spirit's wing, as-"When it feels, in cloud-girt wayfaring,

The breath of kindred plumes against its feet."




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