The white daylight broadened over land and sea; and away out yonder was Heimra Island, shining all the fairer because of the black and slow-moving wall of cloud along the western horizon. What had happened since yesterday, then? She hardly knew: she knew only that her heart lay heavy within her bosom, and that despair instead of sleep seemed to weigh down her eyelids. Was it only yesterday that she had been away up at Loch Heimra, imagining it once more a sheet of water, and pleasing herself with the fancy that some afternoon she would bring her lover along the road with her, to show him what she had done to make meek amends? Yesterday, when she thought of him, which was often enough, joy had filled her whole being, and kindness, and gratitude, and well-wishing to the universal world. Yesterday he and she were friends; and to look forward to their next meeting was to her a secret delight which she could dwell upon, even in talking with strangers. But now—this new day: what had it brought her, that she was so numb, and cold, and hopeless? And what was this that lay so heavy in her breast? Suddenly she sprang to her feet—her eyes staring. A boat was creeping out from the southernmost headland of Eilean Heimra. It was a small vessel with sails: it was the _Sirène_, she made sure. And was he coming ashore now—coming straight to Lochgarra House, as was his wont—coming, in open and manly fashion to demand an explanation from her? And even if he were to upbraid her, and shower anger and scorn upon her, what then?—so long as he showed himself not wholly unforgiving, so long as he allowed her to speak. But as she stood at the window there, intently watching the distant ship, a shuddering suspicion seemed to paralyse her. The _Sirène_ was not coming this way at all: it was slowly, gradually, unmistakably making for the south. And no sooner had this fear become a certainty than the world appeared to swim around her. There was to be no explanation, then?—not even that torrent of bitter and angry reproach? He was going away—silent, stern, inexorable? This was his answer? He would not stoop to demand explanations: he would simply withdraw? It was not fit that he should mate or match with such as she. And at the same moment she caught sight of Big Archie, who was pulling out to his boat. In her terror, and despair, and helplessness, she did not think twice; her resolution was formed in a moment; she threw a shawl over her head and shoulders, and fled downstairs, and out into the open. Quickly she made her way along the beach. "Archie!" she called, in the teeth of the wind. "Archie! Archie! I want you!—come ashore, quick!" The heavy-shouldered and heavy-bearded fisherman, who was still in the smaller boat, paused on his oars for a second; and then, probably understanding more from her gestures than from her words what she wished, he headed round and made for the beach. And before he had reached the land she had called to him again.