"No, stay where you are," answered Hector rather indistinctly, his face averted from her; "I'll be back in a minute, I'm only going down to my cabin to fetch..." The rest of the sentence was lost, the speaker having disappeared through the main companion.
Once more Stara returned to her book, and then a minute later flung it down and jumped up, her face blanched and every nerve quivering; for high and shrill in her ears a scream of mortal terror was ringing and then was suddenly hushed.
"Man overboard! starboard side!" wailed a voice from the forecastle head. The beating of the screw ceased, and the ship quivered to the short, sharp bursts of the siren.
A tumult of voices arose; the clatter of hurrying feet. "Where is he, who is it, Stara?" and Graeme, coat and shoes discarded, stood beside her.
"It's Hayward, he's no longer there, what are you going to do, Colonel Graeme? Hector, you shall not."
"Oh yes, I shall—but before I go—Stara, say it."
"Say what?"
"You love me, Stara—quick!"
"Oh, I do—I do, Hector—you—you shall not. Oh, Hector, there are sharks hereabouts."
"No shark can hurt me now, Stara, love; good-bye." and springing on to the rail he stood for a second steadying himself, looked back once and was gone. With a crash he struck the water, the blue surface seeming to rush up to meet him as he fell, and then, like an arrow, flew down, apparently for miles, down through a strange jade-coloured world into the very heart of the sea. Surely he must strike the bottom soon, he must have journeyed for hours already, yet still he was rushing on. What would it be like, he wondered vaguely, that unknown ocean floor—rock, sand or oozy mud?