"Doth looking hurt yon star?" asks Jack.
"Nay; but looking may strain the eyes; and the arrows of longing come back void."
He answered nothing, and we lingered heavy hearted till the sun came up over the pillowed waves turning the tumbling waters to molten gold.
Between us and the fan-like rays behind the glossy billows—was no ship.
Hortense was safe!
There was an end-all to undared hopes.
CHAPTER V
M. RADISSON AGAIN
"Good-bye to you, Ramsay," said Jack abruptly.