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Don't be inquisitive, Monsieur Emile."
He rowed on meekly.
"There is San Francesco's light," she said, in a moment. "I wonder if
it is late. Have we been away long? I have no idea."
"No more have I."
Nor had he.
When they reached land he made the boat fast and turned to walk up to
the house with her. He found her standing very still just behind him
at the edge of the sea, with a startled look on her face.
"What is it, Vere?" he asked.
"Hush!"
She held up her hand and bent her head a little to one side, as one
listening intently.
"I thought I heard--I did hear--something--"
"Something?"
"Yes--so strange--I can't hear it now."
"What was it like?"
She looked fixedly at him.
"Like some one crying--horribly."
"Where? Near us?"
"Not far. Listen again."
He obeyed, holding his breath. But he heard nothing except the very
faint lapping of the sea at their feet.
"Perhaps I imagined it," she said at length.
"Let us go up to the house," he said.


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