“I must see him, I shall certainly see him,” Edith said resolutely, stepping forward.
“I wouldn’t to-night, Miss Edith,” the sailor replied, standing in her way. “He doesn’t feel like talking.”
“I shall go in!” she said, and waved him aside, and went into the tent.
Dick Rowan lay on the low pallet, with his face turned away and hidden in his arms. Edith knelt beside him. “Dick!” she said, in an imploring voice.
He started slightly. “Don’t speak to me! Please go home now,” he said. “I don’t want to talk.”
“I mean to be true to you, Dick,” she sobbed, without rising. “I will never see nor speak to any one you wish me to avoid. I will go away with you this time, if you say so.”
His only reply was to bid her go. “Give me time to think,” he said, “I will tell you afterward.” And there was no way for her but to go.
“I am going to walk home,” Carl said, and started off through the woods.
When, the next morning early, they sent down to the village for news, the Halcyon had sailed, and Dick Rowan had sailed in her.