"Are you brave enough to hear the truth?" said the other, slowly.
"Yes," answered Varrick.
"Your wife was lost in the disaster. I was by her side when the steamer was struck. We had both concluded to go on deck to join you. With the first terrible lurch we were both thrown headlong into the water. I did my utmost to save her, but it was not to be. A floating spar struck her, and she went down before my eyes."
For an instant Varrick neither moved nor spoke.
"She is dead?" he interrogated.
"Yes," returned the doctor.
Varrick sank down upon a fallen log, and buried his face in his hands. For a moment he could scarcely realize Gerelda's untimely fate. He had not loved her, it was true; still, he would have given his life to have had her reason restored to her.
For an hour or more Hubert Varrick forgot his own sorrow in alleviating the terrible distress of others.
When there was no more assistance that he could render he thought it would be best for him to get away from the place as quickly as possible.
Scarcely heeding whither he went, he took the first path that presented itself. How far he walked he had not the least idea. In the distance he saw lights gleaming, and he knew that he was approaching some little village. He said to himself that it would be best to stop there for a few hours—until daylight, at least, and to recover Gerelda's body if possible.