'I see it now.

But I'm a dying man.

I think that God will forgive me--and I've sinned against Him; try, lassie--try, my Sylvie--will not thou forgive me ?' He listened intently for a moment.

He heard through the open window the waves lapping on the shelving shore.

But there came no word from her; only that same long shivering, miserable sigh broke from her lips at length.
'Child,' said he, once more.