It was a calm and beautiful night with a high tide that overflowed the channel of the river. There was spread a great sheet of moonlit water over the submerged meadows at the margin, and it came up to the foot of the rebuilt bank opposite Grebe. Between four and five of the morning of April the first, a trawler entered the mouth of the river, and just at the time when the stars were growing pale and the sky growing red with the coming dawn, it drew up at the little quay to the east of the town, and was moored to the shore. There stepped out of it two figures clad in overalls and tarpaulin jackets.

‘I think we had better go straight to Mallards, dear,’ said Elizabeth, ‘as it’s so close, and have a nice cup of tea to warm ourselves. Then you can telephone from there to Grebe, and tell them to send the motor up for you.’

‘I shall ring up Georgie too,’ said Lucia. ‘I can’t bear to think that his suspense should last a minute more than is necessary.’

Elizabeth pointed upwards.

‘See, there’s the sun catching the top of the church tower,’ she said. ‘Little did I think I should ever see dear Tilling again.’

‘I never had the slightest doubt about it,’ said Lucia. ‘Look, there are the fields we floated across on the kitchen table. I wonder what happened to it.’

They climbed the steps at the south-east angle of the town, and up the slope to the path across the churchyard. This path led close by the south side of the church, and the white marble of the cenotaph gleamed in the early sunlight.

‘What a handsome tomb,’ said Elizabeth. ‘It’s quite new. But how does it come here? No one has been buried in the churchyard for a hundred years.’

Lucia gave a gasp as the polished lead letters caught her eye.

‘But it’s us!’ she said.

They stood side by side in their tarpaulins, and together in a sort of chant read the inscription aloud.

THIS STONE WAS ERECTED BY
GEORGE PILLSON
IN LOVING MEMORY OF
EMMELINE LUCAS AND ELIZABETH MAPP
LOST AT SEA ON BOXING DAY, 1930

– – – – – – – –

‘IN DEATH THEY WERE NOT DIVIDED.’

‘I’ve never heard of such a thing,’ cried Lucia. ‘I call it most premature of Georgie, assuming that I was dead like that. The inscription must be removed instantly. All the same it was kind of him and what a lot of money it must have cost him! Gracious me, I suppose he thought – Let us hurry, Elizabeth.’

Elizabeth was still staring at the stone.