"'Santa,' said I, 'if there were such an island as you see—'
"'But there is,' she interrupted quick as thought. 'There is, and it is near, though I shall not see it, except from the boat.'
"'Say, then, that there is such an island—' said I. It was just possible: for during the last two days we had sighted many sea-birds.
"'And near—quite near,' she insisted. 'It has groves of coco-trees, and streams tumbling down the rocks—on which no boat can row with men cursing in her and fighting with knives.'
"'Then you shall land on that island, O beloved!' said I, 'and we will live on it, and love—'
"'Ah, I know what you mean! You mean as they love in heaven? Yes.' And she added quite simply. 'I have had great trouble with men.'
"'Not exactly as in heaven,' said I, and took out from a breast-pocket under my jumper a small flask of yellow Chartreuse, which I had snatched up among other small belongings from my state-room locker ten minutes before the Eurotas went down. I had nursed it with a very jealous purpose.… Farrell should not slip through my fingers by dying, while I could yet force a stimulant down his throat, to linger him out.… It was a tiny 'sample' flask, and had been pressed on my acceptance, as a small flourish of trade, by a German wine-dealer in Valparaiso.… And here at the crisis, with Farrell dying at my feet, on an instant I renounced my purpose.
"'Drink this,' I commanded Santa, 'and you shall live some hours yet. And then, if there be an island—'
"She caught at it with a delighted cry, her hands suddenly vitalised. The guitar slid down from her lap. She drew out the glass stopper, holding the flask up a moment to the setting sun and letting it blaze through the liquid. Then swiftly, as I made sure she would carry it to her lips, she bent over Farrell and whispered some soft word of the night that pierced his stupor so that he stirred and lolled his head around.… Yes, and for a farewell kiss—which I watched without jealousy.…
"But as their mouths drew apart, and before his swollen lips could close again, she had slipped the mouth of the flask between them and the cordial was pouring down his throat.…