"Aye, I do!" said I, "mightily!"
"And she you?"
"God grant it!"
"Here," said he after some while, "here were a noble ending to the feud,
Martin?"
"Sir, 'tis ended already, once and for all."
"Aye, but," said he with a catch in his voice, "all my days I—have yearned—for a son. More especially now—when I am old and so feeble."
"Then, sir, you shall lack no longer, if I can thus make up in some small measure for all you have suffered—"
At this he fell silent again but in the dark his trembling hand stole down to touch me lightly as in blessing; and so I fell asleep.
Prom this slumber I was suddenly aroused by his calling on my name and, opening drowsy eyes, beheld (as it were) a luminous veil that blotted out moon and stars and ocean, and, looking about, saw we lay becalmed in a white mist.
"Martin," said Sir Richard, his face a pale oval in the dimness, "d'ye hear aught?"