The island had sunk slowly from sight; at sundown it was just a trace,a stain on the south-western horizon. It was before the new moon, andthe little boat lay drifting. It drifted from the light of sunset intoa world of vague violet twilight, and now it lay drifting under thestars.
The girl, clasping the baby to her breast, leaned against hercompanion’s shoulder; neither of them spoke. All the wonders in theirshort existence had culminated in this final wonder, this passing awaytogether from the world of Time. This strange voyage they had embarkedon—to where?
Now that the first terror was over they felt neither sorrow nor fear.They were together. Come what might, nothing could divide them; evenshould they sleep and never wake up, they would sleep together. Had onebeen left and the other taken!
As though the thought had occurred to them simultaneously, they turnedone to the other, and their lips met, their souls met, mingling in onedream; whilst above in the windless heaven space answered space withflashes of siderial light, and Canopus shone and burned like thepointed sword of Azrael.
Clasped in Emmeline’s hand was the last and most mysterious gift of themysterious world they had known—the branch of crimson berries.