Something in the action of the dim figure that pulled, or the other that hung over the stern sheets of the phantom craft, moved our unwearying guide to motion us with his arm to watchfulness and an immediate pause. In the same instant he hollowed his hand to his mouth and hailed: “Any luck, mate?” The man who was rowing slowed down at once and paddled gingerly to within a few yards of the steps. “Who be you?” he growled, like a dog. Our friend gave his authority. “Oh,” said the fellow. “Yes; we’ve found one.” “What sex, my man?” “Gurl!” I could have cried out. Something found my heart and seized it in a suffocating grip. “Where was it?” “Caught yonder in the timbers.” I reeled and clutched at Duke, but he shook me off sternly. I knew as surely as that the night was done with that here our search ended. That I stood quaking and shivering as nerveless as a haunted drunkard; that I dared not follow them when they moved to the steps; that Duke’s face was set like a dying man’s as he walked stiffly from me and stood looking down upon the boat with a dreadful smile--all this comes to me from the grim shadows of the past. Then I only knew a huddled group--a weighted chamber of shapes with something heavy and sodden swung among them--a pause of hours--of years--of a lifetime--and suddenly a hideous scream that cleft like a madman’s into the waste silence of the dawn. He was down upon his knees by it--groveling, moaning--tearing tufts of dead wintry grass with his hands in ecstasy of pain--tossing his wild arms to the sky in impotent agony of search for some least grain of hope or comfort. I hurried to him; I called upon his name and hers. I saw the sweet white face lying like a stone among the grass. Wiser than I, the accustomed ministers of scenes such as this stood watchful by and waited for the fit to pass. When its fury was spent, they quietly took up their burden once more and moved away. I had no need then to bid my comrade command himself. He rose on the instant from the ground, where he had lain writhing, and fiercely rejecting all offer of assistance on my part, followed in the wake of the ghastly procession. They bore it to the nearest station and there claimed their reward. Think of it! We, who would have given our all to save the living woman, were outbidden by these carrion crows who staked upon the dead! Again at this point a lapse comes into my memory. Out of it grows a figure, that of Duke, that stands before me and speaks with the horrible smile again on its lips. “You had better go home,” it says. “Duke--why? What comes next? What are you going to do?” “What does it matter? You had better go home.” “I must know. Was there anything upon the--upon the body? Duke--was there?” “There was a letter.” “Who from?” “Go home, I tell you.” “I can’t--I won’t--I must save you from yourself! I--Duke----” He strikes at me--hits me, so that I stagger back--and, with an oath, he speeds from me and is gone.