“To find her gone?” I said dully. “To find her dead?”

She locked her hands together and the tears came faster. “Oh, Captain Percy, it had been better so! — it had been better so! Then would she have lain to greet you, calm and white, unmarred and beautiful, with the spring flowers upon her� . She believed not that you were dead; she was distraught with grief and watching; she thought that love might find what friendship missed; she went to the forest to seek you. They that were sent to find and bring her back have never returned” —

“Into the forest!” I cried. “Jocelyn, Jocelyn, Jocelyn, come back!”

Some one pushed me into a chair, and I felt the warmth of wine within my lips.