"Dost think, indeed!" was all Ivor's answer.
Both had their eyes fixed upon the star, which hung like a jewel in the sky; it was already losing some of its brilliancy in the haze which bordered the horizon.
"See, Ivor, it is going!" And she shuddered.
"Not yet, fanwylyd!" he replied; and for a few minutes they watched in silence as one watches at a death-bed.
"Our happiness draws near its last moment," he said at last; and they both stood up together, with their eyes fixed on the star, which now drew close to the horizon.
"Repeat those words, Gwladys, 'I love thee, I love thee, Ivor!'"
And with whispering, trembling breath she obeyed.
The star had reached the line of the sea; and, with a simultaneous impulse, they turned to each other, and their lips met in a long, passionate kiss, and it was with a sudden gasp that Ivor opened his arms, leaving Gwladys standing alone on the edge of the wave. He said not another word, but drawing his boat higher up the strand, he lifted her gently over the surf. She felt the nervous trembling of his strong arms as he longed to press her to his heart; but he resisted the impulse, and in another minute they were both rowing silently away from the Traeth-y-daran.
Before they reached Mwntseison Ivor spoke.
"Wilt land here?" he said, pointing to a narrow creek between the cliffs, where a little stream came trickling down from the hills above.