Nothing appeared along the rolling surface, no answering cry came from the black void; De Croix had disappeared into the depths, as desperate men go down to death.

Suddenly, as I leaned over, sick at heart, peering into the dimness, Toinette drew near and touched me softly.
"Let us not mourn," she said, in strange quietness.

"No doubt 't is better so." "How ?" I questioned, shocked at her seemingly heartless words.

"Surely you cannot rejoice at such a loss ?" "'T is not a loss," she answered firmly, and the soft moon-rays were white upon her face.

"He has only gone back to her we left behind; it was the beckoning hand of love that called him through the waters.