"If you find this sad," I said, "and as if it were the end of all things, turn about. The sight will fill your soul with peace."
So we turned about. And the sky toward the east was of a lovely soft, warm pearl-gray, and the water the same pearl-gray with tints of rose and of a light blue here and there. The distance was veiled in an impalpable haze, and water and sky merged into a soft grayish blur toward the horizon, as if smeared with a dry brush. The water, gray with its rose tints and its blue, seemed to dimple softly, like a baby smiling as it sank to sleep. It soothed my soul; it was the very breath of peace.
I heard another sigh beside me, and I turned, and there was Bobby.
"Submarines in that!" he said, and smiled.
We began to turn slowly, and were come to our anchorage, and there was Old Goodwin's great steamer not far away, and Old Goodwin himself, with Eve, on his landing, waiting for us.
As we were about to go ashore, Captain Fergus spoke to me.
"About that man of yours," he said. "Tell him to go to Newport, and to put himself in their hands over there. It is the best thing he can do."
And I thanked him, and said I would tell my man. And we were walking from the landing, Old Goodwin and I and Eve—Bobby had to walk with Elizabeth, with Pukkie between them, for there was none other thing that he could do, but they said nothing that I could hear.