He recalled them, one after another.  No, not in any of those, for she wished to hide herself where she would never be found!  There was the cement-bed; it went sheer down there, and the water was deep!—­He clung to the rigging to prevent himself from falling.  He prayed to be released from these terrors.  But he saw her floating there, rocked by the rippling water.  Was it the face which was uppermost, or was it the body, which for a while floated higher than the face?

His thoughts were partially diverted from this by people coming up to ask him if he were ill.  He got something warm and strong to drink, and now the steamer approached the part of the coast with which he was familiar.  They passed the opening into Hellebergene, for one has to go first to the town, and thence in a boat.  It now became the question, whether a boat had been sent for him.  In that case his mother was alive, and would welcome him.  But if there was no boat, then a message from the gulf had been sent instead!

And there was no boat!—­

For a moment his senses failed him; only confused sounds fell on his ear.  But then he seemed to emerge from a dark passage.  He must get to Hellebergene!  He must see what had happened; be would go and search!

By this time it was growing dark.  He went on shore and looked round for a boat as though half asleep.  He could hardly speak, but he did not give in till he got the men together and hired the boat.  He took the helm himself, and bade them row with all their might.  He knew every peak in the grey twilight.  They might depend on him, and row on without looking round.  Soon they had passed the high land and were in among the islands.  This time they did not come out to meet him; they all seemed gathered there to repel him.  No boat had been sent; there was, therefore, nothing more for him to do here.  No boat had been sent, because he had forfeited his place here.  Like savage beasts, with bristles erect, the peaks and islands arrayed themselves against him.  “Row on, my lads,” he cried, for now arose again in him that dormant power which only manifested itself in his utmost need.

“How is it with you, my boy?  I am growing weary.  Courage, now, and forward!”

Again that voice outside himself—­a man’s voice.  Was it his father’s?

Whether or not it were his father’s voice, here before his father’s home he would struggle against Fate.

In man’s direst necessity, what he has failed in and what he can do seem to encounter each other.  And thus, just as the boat had cleared the point and the islands and was turning into the bay, he raised himself to his full height, and the boatmen looked at him in astonishment.  He still grasped the rudder-lines, and looked as though he were about to meet an enemy.  Or did he hear anything? was it the sound of oars?

Yes, they heard them now as well.  From the strait near the inlet a boat was approaching them.  She loomed large on the smooth surface of the water and shot swiftly along.