If the caballero had none other than dead friends...." His harsh, bitter mumble stopped. Then Sera-phina's voice said softly: "It is you who are the friend, Tomas Castro. To you shall come a friend's reward." "Alas, Señorita!" he sighed.
From the enlarging and sudden deepening of the glow, I knew that they were throwing more brushwood on the fire. I kept on sculling, and gradually the sharp fusillade of dry twigs grew more distant, more muffled in the fog. At last it ceased altogether. Then a weakness came over me, and, hauling my oar in, I sat down by Sera-phina's side.
He must have seen the dimly-lit dumb show of our parting at Sera-phina's door. I hoped he had understood, and that my shadow, bearing the two lights, had struck him as triumphant and undismayed, walking upon air. I strained my ears. I had heard.... Somebody was coming towards me along the silent galleries. It was he; I knew it. He was coming nearer and nearer.