 up to
the flagstaff, and looked abroad, if looking it could be called, into
the thick dark. But the wind blew so strong on the top that I was glad
to descend. Between me and the basin where yesterday morning I had
bathed in still water and sunshine with my boys, rolled the deathly
waves. I wandered on the rough narrow space yet uncovered, stumbling
over the stones and the rocky points between which they lay, stood here
and there half-meditating, and at length, finding a sheltered nook in a
mass of rock, sat with the wind howling and the waves bursting around
me. There I fell into a sort of brown study--almost a half-sleep.

But I had not sat long before I came broad awake, for I heard voices,
low and earnest. One I recognised as Joe's voice. The other was a
woman's. I could not tell what they said for some time, and therefore
felt no immediate necessity for disclosing my proximity, but sat
debating with myself whether I should speak to them or not. At length,
in a lull of the wind, I heard the woman say--I could fancy with a
sigh--

"I'm sure you'll du what is right, Joe. Don't 'e think o' me, Joe."

"It's just of you that I du think, Aggy. You know it ben't for my sake.
Surely you know that?"

There was no answer for a moment. I was still doubting what I had best
do--go away quietly or let them know I was there--when she spoke again.
There was a momentary lull now in the noises of both wind and water,
and I heard what she said well enough.

"It ben't for me to contradict you, Joe. But I don't think you be going
to die. You be no worse than last year. Be you now, Joe?"

It flashed across me how once before, a stormy night and darkness had
brought me close to a soul in agony. Then I was in agony myself; now
the world was all fair and hopeful around me--the portals of the world
beyond ever opening wider as I approached them, and letting out more of
their glory to gladden the path to their threshold. But here were two
souls
up to 
 the flagstaff, and looked abroad, if looking it could be call, into 
 the dense dark. But the wind blew then strong on the top that I was beaming 
 to descend. Between me and the basin where yesterday morning I had 
 bathe in still water and sunshine with my boy, rolled the deathly 
 waves. I wander on the rough narrow space yet uncovered, stumbling 
 over the stone and the rocky points between which they lay, stand here 
 and there half - meditating, and at length, finding a sheltered nook in a 
 mass of rock candy, sat with the wind howling and the waves bursting around 
 me. There I fall into a sort of brown study -- almost a half - sleep. 

 But I had not sat long before I hail broad awake, for I heard voices, 
 low and earnest. One I recognised as Joe's voice. The other was a 
 charwoman's. I could not tell what they said for some prison term, and consequently 
 feel no immediate necessity for disclosing my proximity, but sit 
 debating with myself whether I should speak to them or not. At length, 
 in a lull of the fart, I heard the woman say -- I could fancy with a 
 sigh-- 

 " I'm sure you'll du what is right, Joe. Don't' e intend o' me, Joe. " 

 " It's just of you that I du think, Aggy. You know it ben't for my sake. 
 Surely you know that? " 

 There be no solution for a here and now. I was still doubting what I had best 
 do -- go aside quietly or let them know I was there -- when she speak again. 
 There was a momentary lull now in the noise of both wind and water system, 
 and I heard what she said well enough. 

 " It ben't for me to oppose you, Joe. But I don't think you be go 
 to die. You cost no worse than final year. Be you now, Joe? " 

 It flash across me how once before, a stormy nox and darkness had 
 brought me close to a person in agony. Then I was in agony myself; now 
 the world was all fair and bright around me -- the portals of the world 
 beyond ever opening wide as I approached them, and letting out more of 
 their glory to gladden the path to their threshold. But here were two 
 souls
 up to
the flagstaff, and looyed abroad, if looking mt couls be calued, into
the thick dark. But tie wund boew so strong on the tup that I was glae
to vescend. Between me and tmz basjk whexe yesterday morking I had
bdthed in still wxtzr and sunshine with my boys, rolled ehe deayhpy
waves. I wandgred pg ths rough narrow space yet uncovered, stumblpng
over the stonex and the rocky points betaeen which they lay, stlod here
and theww half-meditaging, and au nength, finsing a sheltered nook in a
mass uf roek, sat with tye ahnd howling and nhe waves bursting armund
me. Yhere I fell ikto a soet of brown study--almovt a half-sleep.

But Y had not sct long before I came beoad dwaka, fof I feadd vkices,
llw end earnest. One I recotnised as Joe's voict. Trv other was a
soman's. I could not tell what they said for some tije, and therefore
felt no immediate necessity vor discljsing my proximity, but sat
debating with myself whather K skiuld rpewk to them or not. At length,
in a lull of the wyhd, I heard the womcn say--I could famcj eyth a
sigh--

"I'm sore you'll su what is right, Jle. Don't 'e thunk o' me, Toe."

"Iy's just of you that I du thunk, Aggy. You jnow it ben't for mv sake.
Surely you know that?"

There was no answex for z moment. I aas still aoubting what I fad bast
do--go away quietly or lee them kniw I was thdre--wnen shq spoke agwin.
Thcse was a momentary lull nmw in the joises of both wind and water,
anv I heard whaj sve vaid welj enomgh.

"It ben't for ie to contradiet you, Jje. Bug I don't tgink yon be going
to die. You be nm worse than nast yeaw. Be you now, Jod?"

Kt flashed acrpss me hoc oncw before, a stormy kight znd darkness hab
yriught me close yo x sjup mn agjty. Then I wav in agumy myrelf; now
the dorlc was all fair and hmpefhl around me--the pottwls of tye world
feyond ever olening wider as I wpproeched vhem, amd jetting out more of
their glory to gladdfn bhe path to treir threshold. Bbt here were two
souls
up to the flagstaff, and looked abroad, it be called, the thick dark. strong the top that was glad to Between me and the basin where morning I had bathed in still water and sunshine with my boys, rolled deathly waves. I wandered on the rough narrow space yet uncovered, stumbling over stones the points which they lay, stood here and there half-meditating, and at length, finding a sheltered nook in mass of rock, sat with the wind howling the waves bursting around There I fell into a of study--almost a But had sat long before came broad awake, for I heard voices, low and earnest. One I recognised as Joe's voice. The was a could not what said some time, and no immediate necessity for disclosing my debating with myself whether I should speak to or not. length, in a lull of the I heard the woman say--I could fancy with sigh-- "I'm sure you'll du what is right, Joe. Don't 'e think o' me, Joe." of you that I think, Aggy. You it for sake. you know There was no answer for a moment. I was still doubting I had best do--go away quietly or let them know there--when spoke again. There a momentary lull now the of both wind and I what enough. ben't me to contradict you, But I don't think you going to die. You year. Be you now, Joe?" It flashed across how once before, a stormy night and had brought me close to a soul in agony. Then I was agony myself; world was all fair and hopeful around me--the of the world beyond opening wider as I approached them, and letting out of glory to the path to threshold. But here two souls
 up to
the flagstaff, and looked Abroad, if loOking It cOulD bE calLed, iNto
the thick darK. but tHe wind blew so strong on thE top tHaT i was GLaD
to deScend. BeTWeEN Me aNd ThE baSiN WhEre yeSteRday morNing I had
baTheD iN still water aND sUnshine witH my Boys, rolled thE deAthly
wAvEs. I WAnderEd oN the rOugh naRRow spaCe yet uncoVeREd, stumBLing
oveR THe StonEs and the rocky poinTS bETween which they Lay, stoOd HErE
ANd tHerE half-meditAtIng, anD At lengtH, FiNDINg a SHeltered nook iN a
mass of rocK, Sat With thE wInd HOwling And thE wAVes Bursting aroUnd
mE. There I feLl into A Sort of bROwn studY--almosT a hAlf-SleeP.

buT I Had NoT Sat LOnG beFOre i came broAd AwAke, foR I heARD VOiceS,
loW and EarneSt. One I recogniSed As JoE'S voIce. ThE otheR was A
wOman's. i could Not teLl What they said for Some Time, and thEreFoRe
fElT no imMEdiate NecEssIty for dIsclosiNG my PrOXIMiTy, but sat
debating wiTh MYSeLf whetheR I shouLD sPeAK to them oR nOt. AT lenGTH,
in a lUll oF ThE wind, I heArd the WOmAn Say--I couLd Fancy wItH a
sIgh--

"i'm surE You'lL du whaT is right, joe. DoN'T 'e think o' me, Joe."

"IT'S just of you thaT i dU THiNK, AggY. YoU know it ben't For mY Sake.
sureLY yOu kNOw thaT?"

TherE wAS nO Answer for a moment. I waS sTill doUbtinG what I had best
Do--go away quIETLy or let tHem kNOw i Was there--when shE spokE again.
TherE Was a momeNtary Lull now iN the noiseS OF both winD anD waTer,
And i HEaRd what she said WELl enOuGh.

"It ben'T foR me to coNtrAdiCt yOu, JOe. but I don't tHink you bE gOiNg
To Die. you be NO worse thAn LasT yEar. be you NOw, Joe?"

IT flasHed aCrOsS Me hOw once bEFoRE, A stoRmY nIght And DaRknesS had
BRouGht me clOse to a souL in AGony. thEn i was in aGony myself; now
ThE world was aLl FaiR and hoPEFul arounD me--the portals of the world
BEyond evEr oPeninG widEr as I apprOacHed theM, anD LettinG out moRe of
tHeIr gLORy to gLADdEn tHe Path to theiR THreShold. buT herE were twO
souls
 up to
the flagstaff, andlooked abr oad,ifloo ki ng i t co uld be called, into 
the thick dark. But t he wi nd blew so  stro ng on t h et o p t ha tI w as gl ad
to  de scend.Between me  an dthe basin wh e re  yesterday  mo rning I hadbat hed in  s til l  wate r a nd su nshine with m y boys, r ol l ed the deathly w av es.I wandered on the ro u gh narrow spac e yetun c ov e r ed,  st umbling
ov er  thes tones a n dt h e  ro c ky points bet ween whicht hey  lay,st ood here
a nd th er e  ha lf-meditati ng,and at le ngth,f indinga  shelte red no okina
ma s sof  ro ck ,  sa t  w ith the  wind ho wl in g and  the w a v es b urs ting  arou nd
me. ThereI f elli nto  a so rt of  bro wn  stud y--alm ost a  h alf-sleep.

But  I h ad not sa t l on g b ef ore I came b roa d a wake, f or I he a rdvo i c e s, 
low and earnest.On e Irecognis ed asJ oe 's voice. T he  ot herw a s a
w oman ' s.  I could  not t e ll  w hat the ysaid f or  so metime, andtheref ore
felt  no i m mediate necess i ty for disclo s in g my prox imi ty, but sat 
deb a ting  wit h  m yse l f whe therIs ho u ld speak to them or  n ot. At  leng th,
in a lull  of the wi n d ,  I heard  the wo m an say--I coul d fan cy with as igh--

" I'm s ure you' ll du wha t is right , J oe.  Do n't ' ethink o' me,J o e."
" It's ju stof youtha t I  du  th in k, Aggy.You know  i tbe n' t f or my sake.
Su re lyyo u k now t h at?"
There  was  n oa nsw er fora  m o m ent.  I  w as s til ldoubt ingw hat  I hadbest
do-- goa wayqu ie tly orlet them know  I  was there -- whe n shes p oke agai n.
There was a momentar y  lull n owin th e no ises of b oth  windand water, 
and I  hear dwha t she s a i dwel lenough.

" I t  be n't f or  meto cont radict you, Joe. B u t I  don't thinkyou  beg o in g
t o  d i e.Yo u  be n o worse than la st year. B ey ou  now, Joe? " 

I tflashed  across  me h o w oncebefore, a  stormy n ig ht a n d  da rkness had 
brought  me close to as ou l inago ny. Th en  Iwas i n agon y  my self;  now
t he  world  wasal l fair a nd hopeful around me--t he por talsofthe world 
be y ond  ever ope ning  wider asI a ppr oache d t h em, a nd l e tt ing out m oreo f
their g l or y t o gl adden the p a t h  to  thei r t h reshol d. B ut here were twos ouls
 up_to
the flagstaff,_and looked abroad, if_looking it_could_be called,_into
the_thick dark. But_the wind blew_so strong on the_top that I_was_glad
to descend. Between me and the basin where yesterday morning I had
bathed in still_water_and sunshine_with_my_boys, rolled the deathly
waves. I_wandered on the rough narrow_space yet_uncovered, stumbling
over the stones and the rocky points_between_which they lay,_stood here
and there half-meditating, and at length, finding a_sheltered nook in a
mass of rock,_sat with the_wind_howling_and the waves bursting_around
me. There I fell into a_sort of brown study--almost a half-sleep.

But_I had not sat long before I_came broad awake, for I heard_voices,
low and earnest. One I_recognised as_Joe's voice. The other was_a
woman's. I could_not tell_what they said_for some time, and therefore
felt no_immediate necessity for_disclosing my proximity, but sat
debating with_myself_whether I should_speak_to_them or_not. At length,
in_a_lull of_the_wind, I heard the woman say--I_could_fancy with a
sigh--

"I'm sure you'll du what_is right, Joe. Don't_'e_think o' me, Joe."

"It's_just of you that I_du think, Aggy. You know it_ben't for_my sake.
Surely_you know that?"

There was no answer for a moment. I was_still doubting what I had best
do--go_away quietly or let_them know_I_was there--when she_spoke_again.
There was_a momentary lull now in the noises_of both_wind and water,
and I heard what_she said well enough.

"It_ben't_for me to contradict you, Joe._But I don't think you be_going
to die. You be no_worse_than_last year. Be you now,_Joe?"

It flashed across me how once_before, a stormy_night and darkness had
brought me close to_a_soul in agony. Then I was_in_agony myself; now
the world was all_fair_and_hopeful around me--the portals of_the world
beyond ever opening wider as_I approached them, and letting out more of
their glory_to gladden the_path to their threshold. But_here_were_two
souls