He put his arm within the arm of the heavily-breathing man whom he had once flung to the ground, to support him.

‘My lord! my lord!’ sobbed the woman, and dropped on her knees.

’What ‘s this?’ the earl said, drawing his hand away from the woman’s clutch at it.

‘She’s the mother, my lord,’ several explained to him.

‘Mother of what?’

‘My boy,’ the woman cried, and dragged the urchin to Lord Romfrey’s feet, cleaning her boy’s face with her apron.

‘It’s the boy Commander Beauchamp drowned to save,’ said a man.

All the lights of the ring were turned on the head of the boy.  Dr. Shrapnel’s eyes and Lord Romfrey’s fell on the abashed little creature.  The boy struck out both arms to get his fists against his eyelids.

This is what we have in exchange for Beauchamp!

It was not uttered, but it was visible in the blank stare at one another of the two men who loved Beauchamp, after they had examined the insignificant bit of mudbank life remaining in this world in the place of him.

ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: 

And life said, Do it, and death said, To what end? 
As fair play as a woman’s lord could give her
Beauchamp’s career
Dogs die more decently than we men
Dreads our climate and coffee too much to attempt the voyage
Had come to be her lover through being her husband
He bowed to facts
He condensed a paragraph into a line
He runs too much from first principles to extremes
I do not think Frenchmen comparable to the women of France
It would be hard! ay, then we do it forthwith
Making too much of it—­a trick of the vulgar
More argument I cannot bear
None but fanatics, cowards, white-eyeballed dogmatists
Push indolent unreason to gain the delusion of happiness
Reproof of such supererogatory counsel
She had no longer anything to resent:  she was obliged to weep
Slaves of the priests
The healthy only are fit to live
The world without him would be heavy matter
This girl was pliable only to service, not to grief
Virtue of impatience
We women can read men by their power to love
When he’s a Christian instead of a Churchman
Where love exists there is goodness
Without a single intimation that he loathed the task
Wonderment that one of her sex should have ideas