Thus, for a while they ploughed forward--whither he knew not, across the inky sea, for there was no moon, and the stars were hidden, driven on slowly by the biting breath of the winter wind.
Presently she awoke, lifted her head, and spoke, saying: "We can't last much longer in this cold and wet.

You are not afraid, are you ?" "No, not exactly afraid, only sorry; it is hard to go with so much to be done, and--to leave behind." "You shouldn't think like that," she answered, "for what we leave must follow.

She will suffer, but soon she will be with you again, where everything is understood.

Only you ought to have died with her, and not with me, a stranger." "Fate settles these things," he muttered, "and if it comes to that, maybe God will give her strength.

But the dawn is near, and by it we may see land." "Yes, yes,"-- now her voice had sunk to a whisper,--"the dawn is always near, and by it we shall see land." Then again Stella's head sank upon his shoulder, and she slept heavily; nor, although he knew that such slumbers are dangerous, did he think it worth while to disturb her.
The invisible seas hissed past; the sharp wind bit his bones, and over him, too, that fatal slumber began to creep.