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This brought her to the present，and she turned from the outline of St Michael's Mount to look about for her husband's form.He was，as far as she could discover，no longer in the sea.Then he was dressing.By moving a few steps she could see where his clothes lay.But Charles was not beside them.
Baptista looked back again at the water in bewilderment，as if her senses were the victim of some sleight of hand.Not a speck or spot resembling a man's head or face showed anywhere.By this time she was alarmed，and her alarm intensified when she perceived a little beyond the scene of her husband's bathing a small area of water，the quality of whose surface differed from that of the surrounding expanse as the coarse vegetation of some foul patch in a mead differs from the fine green of the remainder.Elsewhere it looked flexuous，here it looked vermiculated and lumpy，and her marine experiences suggested to her in a moment that two currents met and caused a turmoil at this place.
She descended as hastily as her trembling limbs would allow.The way down was terribly long，and before reaching the heap of clothes it occurred to her that，after all，it would be best to run first for help.Hastening along in a lateral direction she proceeded inland till she met a man，and soon afterwards two others.To them she exclaimed，'I think a gentleman who was bathing is in some danger.I cannot see him as I could.Will you please run and help him，at once，if you will be so kind？'
She did not think of turning to show them the exact spot，indicating it vaguely by the direction of her hand，and still going on her way with the idea of gaining more assistance.When she deemed，in her faintness，that she had carried the alarm far enough，she faced about and dragged herself back again.Before reaching the now dreaded spot she met one of the men.
'We can see nothing at all，Miss，'he declared.
Having gained the beach，she found the tide in，and no sign of Charley's clothes.The other men whom she had besought to come had disappeared，it must have been in some other direction，for she had not met them going away.They，finding nothing，had probably thought her alarm a mere conjecture，and given up the quest.
Baptista sank down upon the stones near at hand.Where Charley had undressed was now sea.There could not be the least doubt that he was drowned，and his body sucked under by the current；while his clothes，lying within high—water mark，had probably been carried away by the rising tide.
She remained in a stupor for some minutes，till a strange sensation succeeded the aforesaid perceptions，mystifying her intelligence，and leaving her physically almost inert.With his personal disappearance，the last three days of her life with him seemed to be swallowed up，also his image，in her mind's eye，waned curiously，receded far away，grew stranger and stranger，less and less real.Their meeting and marriage had been so sudden，unpremeditated，adventurous，that she could hardly believe that she had played her part in such a reckless drama.Of all the few hours of her life with Charles，the portion that most insisted in coming back to memory was their fortuitous encounter on the previous Saturday，and those bitter reprimands with which he had begun the attack，as it might be called，which had piqued her to an unexpected consummation.
A sort of cruelty，an imperiousness，even in his warmth，had characterized Charles Stow.As a lover he had ever been a bit of a tyrant；and it might pretty truly have been said that he had stung her into marriage with him at last.Still more alien from her life did these reflections operate to make him；and then they would be chased away by an interval of passionate weeping and mad regret.Finally，there returned upon the confused mind of the young wife the recollection that she was on her way homeward，and that the packet would sail in three—quarters of an hour.
Except the parasol in her hand，all she possessed was at the station awaiting her onward journey.
She looked in that direction；and，entering one of those undemonstrative phases so common with her，walked quietly on.
At first she made straight for the railway；but suddenly turning she went to a shop and wrote an anonymous line announcing his death by drowning to the only person she had ever heard Charles mention as a relative.Posting this stealthily，and with a fearful look around her，she seemed to acquire a terror of the late events，pursuing her way to the station as if followed by a spectre.
When she got to the office she asked for the luggage that she had left there on the Saturday as well as the trunk left on the morning just lapsed.All were put in the boat，and she herself followed.Quickly as these things had been done，the whole proceeding，nevertheless，had been almost automatic on Baptista's part，ere she had come to any definite conclusion on her course.
Just before the bell rang she heard a conversation on the pier，which removed the last shade of doubt from her mind，if any had existed，that she was Charles Stow's widow.The sentences were but fragmentary，but she could easily piece them out.
'A man drowned—swam out too far—was a stranger to the place—people in boat—saw him go down—couldn't get there in time.'
The news was little more definite than this as yet；though it may as well be stated once for all that the statement was true.Charley，with the over—confidence of his nature，had ventured out too far for his strength，and succumbed in the absence of assistance，his lifeless body being at the moment suspended in the transparent mid—depths of the bay.His clothes，however，had merely been gently lifted by the rising tide，and floated into a nook hard by，where they lay out of sight of the passers—by till a day or two after.
IV
In ten minutes they were steaming out of the harbour for their voyage of four or five hours，at whose ending she would have to tell her strange story.
As Pen—zephyr and all its environing scenes disappeared behind Mousehole and St Clement's Isle，Baptista's ephemeral，meteor—like husband impressed her yet more as a fantasy.She was still in such a trance—like state that she had been an hour on the little packet—boat before she became aware of the agitating fact that Mr Heddegan was on board with her.Involuntarily she slipped from her left hand the symbol of her wifehood.
'Hee—hee！Well，the truth is，I wouldn't interrupt 'ee.“I reckon she don't see me，or won't see me，”I said，“and what's the hurry？She'll see enough o'me soon！”I hope ye be well，mee deer？'
He was a hale，well—conditioned man of about five and fifty，of the complexion common to those whose lives are passed on the bluffs and beaches of an ocean isle.He extended the four quarters of his face in a genial smile，and his hand for a grasp of the same magnitude.She gave her own in surprised docility，and he continued：
'I couldn't help coming across to meet 'ee.What an unfortunate thing you missing the boat and not coming Saturday！They meant to have warned 'ee that the time was changed，but forgot it at the last moment.The truth is that I should have informed 'ee myself，but I was that busy finishing up a job last week，so as to have this week free，that I trusted to your father for attending to these little things.However，so plain and quiet as it is all to be，it really do not matter so much as it might otherwise have done，and I hope ye haven't been greatly put out.Now，if you'd sooner that I should not be seen talking to 'ee—if 'ee feel shy at all before strangers—just say.I'll leave 'ee to yourself till we get home.'
'Thank you much.I am indeed a little tired，Mr Heddegan.'
He nodded urbane acquiescence，strolled away immediately，and minutely inspected the surface of the funnel，till some female passengers of Giant's Town tittered at what they must have thought a rebuff—for the approaching wedding was known to many on St Maria's Island，though to nobody elsewhere.Baptista coloured at their satire，and called him back，and forced herself to commune with him in at least a mechanically friendly manner.
The opening event had been thus different from her expectation，and she had adumbrated no act to meet it.Taken aback she passively allowed circumstances to pilot her along；and so the voyage was made.
It was near dusk when they touched the pier of Giant's Town，where several friends and neighbours stood awaiting them.Her father had a lantern in his hand.Her mother，too，was there，reproachfully glad that the delay had at last ended so simply.Mrs Trewthen and her daughter went together along the Giant's Walk，or promenade，to the house，rather in advance of her husband and Mr Heddegan，who talked in loud tones which reached the women over their shoulders.
Some would have called Mrs Trewthen a good mother；but though well meaning she was maladroit，and her intentions missed their mark.This might have been partly attributable to the slight deafness from which she suffered.Now，as usual，the chief utterances came from her lips.
'Ah，yes，I'm so glad，my child，that you've got over safe.It is all ready，and everything so well arranged，that nothing but misfortune could hinder you settling as，with God's grace，becomes 'ee.Close to your mother's door a'most，'twill be a great blessing，I'm sure；and I was very glad to find from your letters that you'd held your word sacred.That's right—make your word your bond always.Mrs Wace seems to be a sensible woman.I hope the Lord will do for her as he's doing for you no long time hence.And how did 'ee get over the terrible journey from Tor—upon—Sea to Pen—zephyr？Once you'd done with the railway，of course，you seemed quite at home.Well，Baptista，conduct yourself seemly，and all will be well.'
Thus admonished，Baptista entered the house，her father and Mr Heddegan immediately at her back.Her mother had been so didactic that she had felt herself absolutely unable to broach the subjects in the centre of her mind.
The familiar room，with the dark ceiling，the well—spread table，the old chairs，had never before spoken so eloquently of the times ere she knew or had heard of Charley Stow.She went upstairs to take off her things，her mother remaining below to complete the disposition of the supper，and attend to the preparation of tomorrow's meal，altogether composing such an array of pies，from pies of fish to pies of turnips，as was never heard of outside the Western Duchy.Baptista，once alone，sat down and did nothing；and was called before she had taken off her bonnet.
'I'm coming，'she cried，jumping up，and speedily disapparelling herself，brushed her hair with a few touches and went down.
Two or three of Mr Heddegan's and her father's friends had dropped in，and expressed their sympathy for the delay she had been subjected to.The meal was a most merry one except to Baptista.She had desired privacy，and there was none；and to break the news was already a greater difficulty than it had been at first.Everything around her，animate and inanimate，great and small，insisted that she had come home to be married；and she could not get a chance to say nay.
One or two people sang songs，as overtures to the melody of the morrow，till at length bedtime came，and they all withdrew，her mother having retired a little earlier.When Baptista found herself again alone in her bedroom the case stood as before：she had come home with much to say，and she had said nothing.
It was now growing clear even to herself that Charles being dead，she had not determination sufficient within her to break tidings which，had he been alive，would have imperatively announced themselves.And thus with the stroke of midnight came the turning of the scale；her story should remain untold.It was not that upon the whole she thought it best not to attempt to tell it；but that she could not undertake so explosive a matter.To stop the wedding now would cause a convulsion in Giant's Town little short of volcanic.Weakened，tired，and terrified as she had been by the day's adventures，she could not make herself the author of such a catastrophe.But how refuse Heddegan without telling？It really seemed to her as if her marriage with Mr Heddegan were about to take place as if nothing had intervened.
Morning came.The events of the previous days were cut off from her present existence by scene and sentiment more completely than ever.Charles Stow had grown to be a special being of whom，owing to his character，she entertained rather fearful than loving memory.Baptista could hear when she awoke that her parents were already moving about downstairs.But she did not rise till her mother's rather rough voice resounded up the staircase as it had done on the preceding evening.
'Baptista！Come，time to be stirring！The man will be here，by Heaven's blessing，in three—quarters of an hour.He has looked in already for a minute or two—and says he's going to the church to see if things be well forward.'
Baptista arose，looked out of the window，and took the easy course.When she emerged from the regions above she was arrayed in her new silk frock and best stockings，wearing a linen jacket over the former for breakfasting，and her common slippers over the latter，not to spoil the new ones on the rough precincts of the dwelling.
It is unnecessary to dwell at any great length on this part of the morning's proceedings.She revealed nothing；and married Heddegan，as she had given her word to do，on that appointed August day.
V
Mr Heddegan forgave the coldness of his bride's manner during and after the wedding ceremony，full well aware that there had been considerable reluctance on her part to acquiesce in this neighbourly arrangement，and，as a philosopher of long standing，holding that whatever Baptista's attitude now，the conditions would probably be much the same six months hence as those which ruled among other married couples.
An absolutely unexpected shock was given to Baptista's listless mind about an hour after the wedding service.They had nearly finished the midday dinner when the now husband said to her father，'We think of starting about two.And the breeze being so fair we shall bring up inside Pen—zephyr new pier about six at least.'
'What—are we going to Pen—zephyr？'said Baptista.'I don't know anything of it.'
'Didn't you tell her？'asked her father of Heddegan.
It transpired that，owing to the delay in her arrival，this proposal too，among other things，had in the hurry not been mentioned to her，except some time ago as a general suggestion that they would go somewhere.Heddegan had imagined that any trip would be pleasant，and one to the mainland the pleasantest of all.
She looked so distressed at the announcement that her husband willingly offered to give it up，though he had not had a holiday off the island for a whole year.Then she pondered on the inconvenience of staying at Giant's Town，where all the inhabitants were bonded，by the circumstances of their situation，into a sort of family party，which permitted and encouraged on such occasions as these oral criticism that was apt to disturb the equanimity of newly married girls，and would especially worry Baptista in her strange situation.Hence，unexpectedly，she agreed not to disorganize her husband's plans for the wedding jaunt，and it was settled that，as originally intended，they should proceed in a neighbour's sailing boat to the metropolis of the district.
In this way they arrived at Pen—zephyr without difficulty or mishap.Bidding adieu to Jenkin and his man，who had sailed them over，they strolled arm in arm off the pier，Baptista silent，cold，and obedient.Heddegan had arranged to take her as far as Plymouth before their return，but to go no further than where they had landed that day.Their first business was to find an inn；and in this they had unexpected difficulty，since for some reason or other—possibly the fine weather—many of the nearest at hand were full of tourists and commercial travellers.He led her on till he reached a tavern which，though comparatively unpretending，stood in as attractive a spot as any in the town；and this，somewhat to their surprise after their previous experience，they found apparently empty.The considerate old man，thinking that Baptista was educated to artistic notions，though he himself was deficient in them，had decided that it was most desirable to have，on such an occasion as the present，an apartment with'a good view'（the expression being one he had often heard in use among tourists）；and he therefore asked for a favourite room on the first floor，from which a bow—window protruded，for the express purpose of affording such an outlook.
The landlady，after some hesitation，said she was sorry that particular apartment was engaged；the next one，however，or any other in the house，was unoccupied.
'The gentleman who has the best one will give it up tomorrow，and then you can change into it，'she added，as Mr Heddegan hesitated about taking the adjoining and less commanding one.
'We shall be gone tomorrow，and shan't want it，'he said.
Wishing not to lose customers，the landlady earnestly continued that since he was bent on having the best room，perhaps the other gentleman would not object to move at once into the one they despised，since，though nothing could be seen from the window，the room was equally large.
'Well，if he doesn't care for a view，'said Mr Heddegan，with the air of a highly artistic man who did.
'O no—I am sure he doesn't，'she said.'I can promise that you shall have the room you want.If you would not object to go for a walk for half an hour，I could have it ready，and your things in it，and a nice tea laid in the bow—window by the time you come back？'
This proposal was deemed satisfactory by the fussy old tradesman，and they went out.Baptista nervously conducted him in an opposite direction to her walk of the former day in other company，showing on her wan face，had he observed it，how much she was beginning to regret her sacrificial step for mending matters that morning.
She took advantage of a moment when her husband's back was turned to inquire casually in a shop if anything had been heard of the gentleman who was sucked down in the eddy while bathing.
The shopman said，'Yes，his body has been washed ashore，'and had just handed Baptista a newspaper on which she discerned the heading，'A Schoolmaster drowned while bathing'，when her husband turned to join her.She might have pursued the subject without raising suspicion；but it was more than flesh and blood could do，and completing a small purchase almost ran out of the shop.
'What is your terrible hurry，mee deer？'said Heddegan，hastening after.
'I don't know—I don't want to stay in shops，'she gasped.
'And we won't，'he said.'They are suffocating this weather.Let's go back and have some tay！'
They found the much desired apartment awaiting their entry.It was a sort of combination bed and sitting—room，and the table was prettily spread with high tea in the bow—window，a bunch of flowers in the midst，and a best—parlour chair on each side.Here they shared the meal by the ruddy light of the vanishing sun.But though the view had been engaged，regardless of expense，exclusively for Baptista's pleasure，she did not direct any keen attention out of the window.Her gaze as often fell on the floor and walls of the room as elsewhere，and on the table as much as on either，beholding nothing at all.
But there was a change.Opposite her seat was the door，upon which her eyes presently became riveted like those of a little bird upon a snake.For，on a peg at the back of the door，there hung a hat；such a hat—surely，from its peculiar make，the actual hat—that had been worn by Charles.Conviction grew to certainty when she saw a railway ticket sticking up from the band.Charles had put the ticket there—she had noticed the act.
Her teeth almost chattered；she murmured something incoherent.Her husband jumped up and said，'You are not well！What is it？What shall I get 'ee？'
'Smelling salts！'she said，quickly and desperately；'at the chemist's shop you were in just now.'
He jumped up like the anxious old man that he was，caught up his own hat from a back table，and without observing the other hastened out and downstairs.
Left alone she gazed and gazed at the back of the door，then spasmodically rang the bell.An honest—looking country maid—servant appeared in response.
'A hat！'murmured Baptista，pointing with her finger.'It does not belong to us.'
'O yes，I'll take it away，'said the young woman with some hurry.'It belongs to the other gentleman.'
She spoke with a certain awkwardness，and took the hat out of the room.Baptista had recovered her outward composure.'The other gentleman？'she said.'Where is the other gentleman？'
'He's in the next room，ma'am.He removed out of this to oblige 'ee.'
'How can you say so？I should hear him if he were there，'said Baptista，sufficiently recovered to argue down an apparent untruth.
'He's there，'said the girl，hardily.
'Then it is strange that he makes no noise，'said Mrs Heddegan，convicting the girl of falsity by a look.
'He makes no noise；but it is not strange，'said the servant.
All at once a dread took possession of the bride's heart，like a cold hand laid thereon；for it flashed upon her that there was a possibility of reconciling the girl's statement with her own knowledge of facts.
'Why does he make no noise？'she weakly said.
The waiting—maid was silent，and looked at her questioner.'If I tell you，ma'am，you won't tell missis？'she whispered.
Baptista promised.
'Because he's a—lying dead！'said the girl.'He's the schoolmaster that was drowned yesterday.'
'O！'said the bride，covering her eyes.'Then he was in this room till just now？'
'Yes，'said the maid，thinking the young lady's agitation natural enough.'And I told missis that I thought she oughtn't to have done it，because I don't hold it right to keep visitors so much in the dark where death's concerned；but she said the gentleman didn't die of anything infectious；she was a poor，honest，innkeeper's wife，she says，who had to get her living by making hay while the sun sheened.And owing to the drowned gentleman being brought here，she said，it kept so many people away that we were empty，though all the other houses were full.So when your good man set his mind upon the room，and she would have lost good paying folk if he'd not had it，it wasn't to be supposed，she said，that she'd let anything stand in the way.Ye won't say that I've told ye，please，m'm？All the linen has been changed，and as the inquest won't be till tomorrow，after you are gone，she thought you wouldn't know a word of it，being strangers here.'
The returning footsteps of her husband broke off further narration.Baptista waved her hand，for she could not speak.The waiting—maid quickly withdrew，and Mr Heddegan entered with the smelling salts and other nostrums.
'Any better？'he questioned.
'I don't like the hotel，'she exclaimed，almost simultaneously.'I can't bear it—it doesn't suit me！'