Diana took off her hat, and laid it on the writing table. Then she came and knelt beside the arm of David's chair.
"David," she said, "before I go, will you give me your blessing, as you did on the night when you led me to the feet of the King?"
David stood up; but he did not lay his hands on that bowed head.
"Let us kneel together," he said, "and together let us ask, that our mistakes--if any--may be overruled; that our sins may be forgiven; that we may remain true to our highest ideals; and that--whether in life or by death--we may glorify our King, and be faithful followers of the Star."
The gong, following closely on the final words of David's prayer, crashed and clanged through the ship; booming out, to all concerned, the knell of inevitable parting.
Diana rose in silence, put on her hat, took a final look round the room; then, together, they passed out, and moved toward the gangway, down which the friends of passengers were already hurrying, calling back, as they went, final words of farewell.
Near the gangway Diana paused, and turned to David.
"You are sure all the dates and addresses you have given me are right?" she said.
David smiled. "Quite sure. I would not risk losing one of your letters."
"I will begin a letter to-morrow, and tell you whether Martin's mate has any children; and, if so, whether they have had the measles."
"It would be more to the point to tell me whether he takes proper care of you. David--I wish you were not going!"
A look leapt into David's eyes as of a drowning man sinking for the third and last time, who suddenly sees a rope dangling almost within his reach.
"I don't know. It seems so far. Are you sure you are quite well? Why are you so ghastly white?"
"Quite well," smiled David. "We cannot all have Mrs. Vane's fine colour. Bid her good-bye for me."
All who were going, seemed to have gone. The gangway was empty. Passengers crowded to the side of the ship, waving in tearful silence, or gaily shouting last words, to friends lined up on the dock.
"All ashore!" shouted the sailor in charge of the gangway, looking at Diana.
She moved toward it, slowly; David at her side.
"Look here," said David, speaking hurriedly; "I should hate to watch you standing alone in that crowd, while we slowly pull out into mid-stream. Don't do it. Don't wait to see us go. I would so much rather you went straight to your car. It is just within sight. I shall see William arrange the rug, and shut you in. I shall be able to watch you actually safely on your way to Riverscourt; which will be much better than gradually losing sight of you in the midst of a crowd of strange faces. You don't know how long-drawn-out these dock partings are. Will you--will you do as I ask?"