Rather it seemed to spread
wings of comfort above him. And always the crooning of the sea was like a
voice that softly called him.
It came very suddenly at the last--the sign for which he waited. Someone
had begun to mount the cliff-path, and--though he was out of sight--he
heard a low, summoning whistle in the darkness. It was Dicky's whistle.
He knew it well. Dicky was coming to look for him.
For a second every pulse--every nerve--leaped to answer that call.
For a second he stood tense while that surging power within him
sprang upwards, and in sheer amazing fire of sacrifice consumed the
earthly impulse.
Then it was over. His arms went wide to the night. Without a cry, without
a tremor, he flung himself backwards over the grassy edge.
The crooning sea and the overhanging cliff muffled the sound of his fall.
And no one heard or saw--save God Who seeth all.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MESSAGE
From the day that Juliet relinquished her perpetual vigil, the
improvement in Vera Fielding was almost uninterrupted. She recovered her
strength very slowly, but her progress was marked by a happy certainty
that none who saw her could question.
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