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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"


Then, after an age of this numb agony of waiting, a tiny bead of light
flickered on the outer darkness, as though Hope with a golden pin-point
had pricked the black curtain of despair, and let a gleam of her glory
peep through. It swung to and fro, and he fell forward with his face in
his ice-cold hands and sobbed, "Thank God! Thank God! She is safe! She
is safe!"
When he tried to get up, his legs gave way under him, and he had to sit
and wait till they recovered. And when at last he got under way along
the ridge, he stumbled like a drunken man.
He tangled his feet in the blanket and fell in a heap. He wondered
dimly where the cloak was--remembered Nance had worn it till she took to
the sea--and stumbled off through the dark again to find it. Nance had
worn it. To him it was sacred.
When he got back with it, he wrapped it round him and crept into his
shelter and slept like a dog.


CHAPTER XXVIII
HOW THE OTHERS CAME TO MAKE AN END

He woke next morning with a start. The sun was high, by the shadow of
his doorway; and by that same token the tide would be at half-ebb, if
not lower, and the gates of his fortress at his enemy's mercy.


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