`There were nearly one hundred, a week ago,' said the Earl: `but there have been twenty or thirty deaths since then.'

`And what religious ministrations are there to be had?'

`There are three brave men down there,' the Earl replied, his voice trembling with emotion, `gallant heroes as ever won the Victoria Cross! I am certain that no one of the three will ever leave the place merely to save his own life. There's the Curate: his wife is with him: they have no children. Then there's the Roman Catholic Priest. And there's the Wesleyan Minister. They go amongst their own flocks mostly; but I'm told that those who are dying like to have any of the three with them. How slight the barriers seem to be that part Christian from Christian, when one has to deal with the great facts of Life and the reality of Death!'

`So it must be, and so it should be--' Arthur was beginning, when the front-door bell rang, suddenly and violently.

We heard the front-door hastily opened, and voices outside: then a knock at the door of the smoking- room, and the old house-keeper appeared, looking a little scared.

`Two persons, my Lord, to speak with Dr. Forester.'

Arthur stepped outside at once, and we heard his cheery `Well, my men?' but the answer was less audible, the only words I could distinctly catch being `ten since morning, and two more just--'

`But there is a doctor there?' we heard Arthur say: and a deep voice, that we had not heard before, replied `Dead, Sir. Died three hours ago.'

Lady Muriel shuddered, and hid her face in her hands: but at this moment the front-door was quietly closed, and we heard no more.

For a few minutes we sat quite silent: then the Earl left the room, and soon returned to tell us that Arthur had gone away with the two fishermen, leaving word that he would be back in about an hour. And, true enough, at the end of that interval--during which very little was said, none of us seeming to have the heart to talk--the front-door once more creaked on its rusty hinges, and a step was heard in the passage, hardly to be recognized as Arthur's, so slow and uncertain was it, like a blind man feeling his way.

He came in, and stood before Lady Muriel, resting one hand heavily on the table, and with a strange look in his eyes, as if he were walking in his sleep.

`Muriel--my love--' he paused, and his lips quivered: but after a minute he went on more steadily. `Muriel-- my darling--they--want me--down in the harbour.'

`Must you go?' she pleaded, rising and laying her hands on his shoulders, and looking up into his face with her great eyes brimming over with tears. `Must you go, Arthur? It may mean--death!'

He met her gaze without flinching. `It does mean death,' he said, in a husky whisper: `but--darling--I am called. And even my life itself--' His voice failed him, and he said no more.

For a minute she stood quite silent, looking upwards with a helpless gaze, as if even prayer were now useless, while her features worked and quivered with the great agony she was enduring. Then a sudden inspiration seemed to come upon her and light up her face with a strange sweet smile. `Your life?' she repeated. `It is not yours to give!'

Arthur had recovered himself by this time, and could reply quite firmly, `That is true,' he said. `It is not mine to give. It is yours, now, my--wife that is to be! And you--do you forbid me to go? Will you not spare me, my own beloved one?'