CHAPTER VII.
THE WILD WAVES WHIST.
Next morning, when Caius walked forth into the glory of the April sunshine, he felt himself to be a poor, wretched man.

There was not a fisherman upon the island, lazy, selfish as they were, and despised in his eyes, that did not appear to him to be a better man than he.

All the force of training and habit made the thing that he was going to do appear despicable; but all the force of training and habit was not strong enough to make his judgment clear or direct his will.
The muddy road was beginning to steam in the sunshine; the thin shining ice of night that coated its puddles was melting away.

In the green strip by the roadside he saw the yellow-tufted head of a dandelion just level with the grass.

The thicket of stunted firs on either side smelt sweet, and beyond them he saw the ice-field that dazzled his eyes, and the blue sea that sparkled.