"Get on with your doctoring." "No--not now," answered Ravenshaw sadly.

"It's no use.

She is dead." "Dead!" Thalassa stood overwhelmed.

Silently he surveyed the slight recumbent form on the couch, his moving lips seemed to be counting the drops which dripped from her clinging garments on to the carpet.

"Dead, did ye say?
Why, I carried her here--brought her across the moors to you." His voice trembled.