He drew near Ballindra with sentiments a good deal modified by his adventure. Life had proved itself to be worth more to him than he had supposed, and sheer weakness from loss of blood as he lay bandaged on the sunny deck made the quiet certainty of a woman's love seem good in itself. Sir Anthony had telegraphed a very picturesque account of the rescue, and owing to the _Candia_ having to put back to land her new passengers Lettice had read the story before Caragh arrived. There is, perhaps, no happier moment possible to a woman than that in which she hears the world applauding the man she loves and is about to marry. To Lettice, so new to love and to a near interest in any of the world's noises, the moment was almost overwhelming. It was a pain of happiness, a tense fear that such glad fortune could not endure. Caragh had sent her a wire, more kind than true, to say that he was mending splendidly, but she tortured herself with every sort of deplorable anticipation, till she came to expect little from the _Candia's_ arrival but her lover's body. But she woke one morning to see the big liner, gay with flags, lying before her windows at the mouth of the river. She dressed at a pace that left her maid staring, and took the steepest of short cuts to the slip. There, at that hour of the morning, not a soul was to be seen, so she hauled in the lightest of the moored boats and sculled herself down the river against the tide. On the way the maiden modesty, which had so far been as breathless as every other part of her, found a word to say. For a moment the sculls stopped, and then dipped slowly to hold her against the tide. Then the boat went ahead again, but more deliberately. While she was dressing Lettice had forgotten every one in the world but herself and Maurice. Now, with the big ship before her, she remembered the others. As she ran down to the slip she had thought of nothing but to get to him as soon as possible. Now there seemed a dozen things besides, all very important for a young lady. But her doubts and fears were set at rest by a shout from the ship, and she looked over her shoulder to see Caragh standing by the flag pole waving his hat. He was at the head of the gangway as she came up it, on a pair of improvised crutches, looking very white, but with nothing left her to wish for in the welcome of his eyes. Sir Anthony, who was at his elbow, as radiant as herself, protested fussily at his imprudence, and walked them both over to the chart-house, which had been arranged for Caragh's use, where he left them to order breakfast. Lettice, fastened to her seat by the windows round her, and dumb with happiness, could only gaze into Caragh's face. He looked back at her with a smile, which broke at last in laughter. "You've heard all about it?" he asked. "Oh, I should think I had!" she breathed. "Comic, wasn't it?" "Comic!" she repudiated indignantly; "how _can_ you?"