Mrs. Bayden glanced anxiously at Harold and then bent once more over the scrap-book. Helen stood quite still, gazing at Harold. His beautiful rounded face had grown pale and pinched, and it was almost difficult to recognize him, so changed was he. He lay quite still for what seemed to Helen a long time, but at last he moved and opened his eyes. Then he saw Helen standing at the foot of his bed, and he sat up and stretched out his arms to her, his face beaming with joy. "Helen, Helen!" he cried. "Don't you see her, mother? I am coming. Helen, wait for me." As the sound of his voice died away, the vision faded. Helen looked round, and found herself upon the sea, and heard again the water lapping against the ship. Only there was a change. The air was cold and charged with moisture. The distant coast-line had disappeared from sight, and the delicate gray veil had given place to a thick mist, through which the pale dawn strove in vain to pierce. She sat quite still, trying to collect her thoughts. The impression left upon her by her dream was so vivid that it was at first impossible to believe that she had been asleep, and even when she succeeded in persuading herself that this had been the case the conviction remained that Harold lived, that he was waiting for her, and that they would meet again. This conviction gave her neither pleasure nor pain, but was so settled that it would have surprised her more to have seen her father standing beside her than Harold. She was curiously tranquillized too. All the vain longings and regrets that had troubled her so sorely of late were stilled. She felt quite happy and at rest, and regardless of the rolling mist which seemed to be closing in round the ship, she curled herself up in her long chair and fell fast asleep. The child slept soundly, although the mist thickened and increased rapidly, and the captain, hastily aroused, paced the deck anxiously. Speed was reduced, all hands were on the alert, and discordant blasts on the fog-horn disturbed the quiet. Still Helen did not stir, until, suddenly, from the look-out there came a ringing cry, "Ship ahead!" Then she started up and saw what looked through the mist like a phantom ship bearing down upon the doomed vessel on which she stood. Half paralysed by vague fear, although quite ignorant of the reality of the peril, Helen remained rooted to the spot, whilst a few minutes of agonizing suspense ensued, and the captain's voice rang out his orders and each man went to his post. Then came a crash, a shock, under which the vessel shuddered like a living thing, and, almost as it seemed the next moment, the phantom-like ship, her deadly work done, was moving away, disregarding the affrighted shrieks with which the air was suddenly filled.