Now, go."
The crowd turned, slowly shambled down the riverside, and left us three
standing there.
But not alone. Out of the shadow of one of the houses came two women.
They stepped forward into the light of the bonfire burning near us. One
of the women was very pale.
It was Mrs. Falchion.
I touched the arm of the man standing beside me. He wheeled and saw her
also. A cry broke from his lips, but he stood still. A whole life-time of
sorrow, trouble, and love looked out of his eyes. Mrs. Falchion came
nearer. Clasping her hands upon her breast, she peered up into his face,
and gasped:
"Oh--oh--I thought that you were drowned--and dead! I saw you buried in
the sea. No--no--it cannot be you! I have heard and seen all within these
past few minutes. YOU are so strong and brave, so great a man! . . . Oh,
tell me, tell me, are you in truth my husband?"
He spoke.
"I was your husband, Mercy Falchion. I was drowned, but this man"--he
turned and touched my shoulder--"this man brought me back to life. I
wanted to be dead to the world. I begged him to keep my secret. A
sailor's corpse was buried in my shroud, and I lived.
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