When it went on, he went on.
When he came to the end of the ridge he saw that the nebulous something had apparently stopped just where his house must be.
And then, every sense on the strain, he heard his own name called softly, and he laughed to himself for very joy of it, and lay still to hear it again, and laughed once more to think that in her simplicity she still thought of him as "Mr.Gard." He would teach her to call him "Steen," as his mother used to do.
Then he got up quickly and cried, as softly as herself, but with joy and laughter in his voice-- "Why, Nance! My dear, I was not sure whether you were a ghost or a devil-fish;" and he sprang down towards her.
And then, to his amazement, he saw that she was clad only in the clinging white garment in which he had seen her swim.
Her next words confounded him.
"Is Bernel here ?" "Bernel, Nance?
No, dear, he is not here.

Why--" "Did he not get here last night ?" she jerked sharply.
"No.

No one.

I was hoping--" But she had sunk down against the great stones of the shelter, with her hands before her face.
"Mon Gyu, mon Gyu! Then he is dead! Oh, my poor one! My dear one!" "Nance! Nance! What is it all, dearest?
Did Bernel try to come across last night--" "Yes, yes! He would come.

He said you must be starving.