“I’ll speak to Diccon first,” he answered, and went on toward the forecastle, while I entered the state cabin. Here I found Mistress Percy kneeling beside the bench beneath the stern windows, her face buried in her outstretched arms, her dark hair shadowing her like a mantle. When I spoke to her she did not answer. With a sudden fear I stooped and touched her clasped hands. A shudder ran through her frame, and she slowly raised a colorless face.

“Are you come back?” she whispered. “I thought you would never come back. I thought they had killed you. I was only praying before I killed myself.”

I took her hands and wrung them apart to rouse her, she was so white and cold, and spoke so strangely. “God forbid that I should die yet awhile, madam!” I said.