ADIEU It was growing late and the _fete_ was in full swing when Saltash sauntered down again under the cypress-trees to the water's edge.

The sea was breaking with a murmurous splashing; it was a night for dreams.
In the flower-decked bandstand an orchestra of stringed instruments was playing very softly--fairy-music that seemed to fill the world with magic to the brim.

It was like a drug to the senses, alluring, intoxicating, maddeningly sweet.
Saltash wandered along with his face to the water on which a myriad coloured lights rocked and swam.

And still his features wore that monkeyish look of unrest, of discontent and quizzical irony oddly mingled.

He felt the lure, but it was not strong enough.