He was standing on the opposite side of the deck, lighting a cigar. His hat was off, and the breeze ruffled his black, silky hair. Could anything but madness account for his actions this afternoon? Ella shuddered and hid her eyes, and tried to think. The pulses of life beat strongly within her. It was hard to realise that the end--and such an end--was so near.
Presently Hubert came a little nearer. He was puffing quietly at his cigar. All traces of his previous excitement had disappeared.
"The barometer has been going down all day," he observed, "and the wind is beginning to rise. It will blow a gale during the night, the wreck will break up, and when daylight comes, the _Seamew_ will have disappeared for ever."
Miss Winter made no answer.
"A few days hence," he resumed slowly, "two bodies will be washed ashore--those of a man and a woman; and the woman will be so closely locked in the arms of the man that people will not be able to separate them. They will be buried together, and she who would not be his bride in life shall be his bride for ever in the grave."
"That shall never be," said Ella to herself, with a shudder. But she spoke no word aloud.
"Meanwhile, Miss Winter, you have nothing to fear. We have still some hours before us."
By this time the boat looked a mere speck in the distance. Sunset splendours flooded the western sky. In mid heaven, borne swiftly away by some upper current, were ragged shreds and fragments of cloud, looking like crimson fleeces that had been roughly torn asunder; but in the north and north-east an ominous-looking bank of sullen sky was climbing out of the sea, and creeping slowly up towards the zenith. There was not much wind, but what there was blew in fitful puffs that went as suddenly as they came, hurrying away to whisper elsewhere of the coming storm. The tide had begun to turn, and was bringing with it a heavier swell. Now and then the timbers of the ship creaked and strained; it was as though the brave old brig knew that its end was near, and could not repress its groans. In another hour darkness would reign over land and sea.
Hubert went on smoking in silence, lighting a second cigar when the first one was finished, and--what could Ella say? Even if she were to appeal to him to save her life, and he listened to her appeal, it would be useless. The boat was gone beyond recovery, and with it their last chance of reaching the shore. A few short hours, and then would come the bitter end; one brief struggle, and that coil of joys, sorrows, and perplexities which we call Life would have snapped like a broken dream, and the unknown awful dawn of Eternity would be shining in her eyes.
She was sitting crouched up against the bulwarks, her face hidden in her hands. Never had the wheels of thought moved more swiftly, she had so many things to think of, and so little time to give to them! She thought of Mrs. Toynbee sitting placidly reading her novel in the drawing-room at Heron Dyke--for that she had gone home ere this, Ella did not doubt--looking at her watch occasionally, and wondering what had become of the runaway, but otherwise quietly enjoying herself.