“It’s my fault. ” “I knew it,” Ennison exclaimed. The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed would have deterred any spirit less daring than Sheppard's from even hazarding the attempt. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. " Not many days after this event, on a bright October morning, the bells rang a merry peal from the old gray tower of Willesden church. ‘But a week and some days,’ answered Valade. Long ago.
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