Page:Restless Earth.djvu/200

He was standing, bare-headed, looking over the ruined town to the distant sea. About him were the crowded monuments to the virtues of those who had died in the peace of home, where gentle hands had closed their eyes. At his feet was a low mound of freshly-turned earth which covered the blackened remains of a woman and child who had died in terror and loneliness.

He looked at the distant sea, but his thoughts were roving down the past years, recalling the days of happiness before his heart had played him false.

His hair ruffled in the clean westerly breeze. It was untidy and too long; and upon the nape of his neck and upon his temples the brown hue had faded to a grey which was almost white. His face was lined and gaunt, the features thin and refined through suffering. His eyes were deeply sunken and glittered strangely beneath his slightly frowning brows.

As he stood thus straightly, his clothing hung loosely upon his wasted body. His hands, clasped behind him, were almost fleshless.

Life had become worthless to James Harley. All mortal desires seemed dead in him, save alone the desire for death.

He would not have eaten at all had it not been for the fact that Roy and an Anglican minister had appointed themselves his guardians.

These two, so different in faith and temperament, had met upon the brink of the grave wherein were laid the bodies of fifty dead. Moved by a single impulse, they had united to endeavour to console the man who had seemingly become bereft of speech after his first blasphemous outburst over the charred bodies of his loved ones, and who had gazed down upon the plain coffins lying so closely together, unable to comprehend that his own surname was written upon two of them.

Harley had seemed asleep then. His mind had been fogged, and he had gazed around with childish