I believe in you, Matthew West; in your
honesty and manhood. You say you love me?"
"With all my heart and soul; it seems to me now I have always loved
you--you came to me, the lady of my dreams."
Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, yet she smiled back into his face,
her voice trembling as she answered.
"And I," she said slowly, "have had no thought but of you since our
morning in the garden together. How far away that seems."
"You mean you love me?"
"Yes; I love you; there is no word stronger, but I would speak it--is
that not enough?"
He held her in his arms, in spite of the trembling raft, tossed by the
swell of the sea, and crushed her against him in the ardent strain of
passion. An instant she held her head back, her eyes gazing straight into
his; then, with sigh of content, yielded, and their lips met, and clung.
The very silence aroused them, startled both into a swift realization of
that dreary waste in which they floated helplessly alone, a drifting chip
on the face of the waters. Her eyes swept the crest of the waves, and she
withdrew herself partially from his arms.
"Why, we must be crazed to dream of happiness here," she exclaimed. "Was
there ever before so strange a confession of love? I am trying to be
brave--but--but that is too much; that waste of green water, with the
grey sky overhead. There is no ending to it--just death mocking us in
every wave. Oh, Matthew, can this be all? Only this little moment, and
then--the end?"
He held her hands tightly, his heart throbbing, but his courage and
hope high.
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