"He is better there. In their death they are not divided."
It was Fenella.
At the next moment, something he could not resist, something unconquerable and overwhelming, made him put his arms about her and kiss her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE SAVING OF KATE KINKADE
The Governor was waiting for Stowell at the side gate to Ballamoar.
"You look ill, my boy, and no wonder," he said. "Fenella and I are to take a short cruise in the yacht before the autumn ends. You must come along with us."
For the farmers and fishermen who had travelled long distances a meal had been provided in the barn—a kind of robustious after-wake for the Deemster, presided over by the elder and younger Robbie Creers.
Alick Gell alone returned with Stowell to the house. In his black frock coat and tall silk hat he had walked back from the Church by Stowell's side, snuffling audibly but saying nothing. To Stowell's relief he was still silent through luncheon and for several hours afterwards. It was not until they were in the porch, and Gell was on the point of going, that anything of consequence was said.
"What about Bessie?" asked Stowell.