The breeze being dead on-shore, the little boat heeled towards
us, her mainsail hiding the steerswoman.
It was a minute later, perhaps, that I began to suspect that July was
hit, for she allowed the jib to shake and seemed to be running right up
into the wind. The stern swung round and I strained my eyes to catch a
glimpse of her. At that moment a third volley rattled out, a bullet
shore through the peak halliards, and the mainsail came down with a run.
It was all over.
The preventive men cheered and pulled with a will. I saw them run
alongside, clamber into the cutter, and lift the fallen sail.
And that was all. There was no one on board, alive or dead. Whilst the
canvas hid her, in the swift two minutes between the boat's putting
about and her running up into the wind, July Constantine must have
lifted her lover's body overboard and followed it to the bottom of the
sea, There is no other explanation; and of the bond that knit these two
together there is, when I ask myself candidly, no explanation at all,
unless I give more credence than I have any wish to give to the wild
tale which Joseph Laquedem told me. I have told you the facts, my
friend, and leave them to your judgment.
[1] The legend is that as Christ left the judgment hall on His way to
Calvary, Kartophilus smote Him, saying, "Man, go quicker!" and was
answered, "I indeed go quickly; but thou shalt tarry till I come again.
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