As the sun struck Katafa full, from her night-black hair to her little feet, she moved. Then, suddenly casting sleep away, she sat up.
Just as Dick’s waking vision had been the man he had fought with, hers was Dick.
She saw him, with wide-pupilled eyes that saw nothing of this world, and, holding out her arms to the vision, cried: “Taori!”
It faded as her arms clasped themselves round the reality.
They had climbed the sun-warmed rock.
The vast columnar swell was marching across the Pacific, smooth as though the Naya e Matadi had never blown, and nothing to tell of the great wind remained but a few broken trees in the groves and the up-ended canoe on the reef. Dick could see it as they sat, the sun now high above the horizon, and the land breeze fanning out across the sea in spaces of violet shadow.
He pointed it out to Katafa and she nodded her head. She knew.
Instinct told her that the men of Karolin had been destroyed, that something had happened, something that came with that wind which she remembered now like a wind that had blown in dreamland.
The sense of security was everywhere ringed and completed by the peace of the violet sea.