Beyond him is the open sea.

Beneath him is the man who has robbed him of Clara.
The shadow of the deadly thought grows and darkens over his face.

He waits with his hands on the boat--waits and thinks.
The iceberg drifts slowly--over the black water; through the ashy light.
Minute by minute, the dying fire sinks.

Minute by minute, the deathly cold creeps nearer to the sleeping man.

And still Richard Wardour waits--waits and thinks.
Fourth Scene--The Garden..