Herrick slowly rose to his feet; his heart throbbed hard, a hideous excitement shook him, but he was master of himself. Slowly he turned and faced Attwater and the muzzle of a pointed rifle. “Why could I not do that last night?” he thought.
“Well, why don’t you fire?” he said aloud, in a voice that trembled.
Attwater slowly put his gun under his arm, then his hands in his pockets.
“What brings you here?” he repeated.
“I don’t know,” said Herrick; and then, with a cry: “Can you do anything with me?”
“Are you armed?” said Attwater. “I ask for the form’s sake.”
“Armed? No!” said Herrick. “O yes, I am, too!”
And he flung upon the beach a dripping pistol.
“You are wet,” said Attwater.
“Yes, I am wet,” said Herrick. “Can you do anything with me?”