He even exulted in the wild ttunult of wind and
sea and blinding rain. He was as one spellbound
in the grip of the tempest.
Curt and dry of speech, abrupt at times almost
to rudeness, he was a man of whom most people
i^ood in awe, and with whom very few were on
terms of intimacy. Yet in the world of men he
had made his mark.
By camp-fires and on the march, in prison and in
hospital, Carey the journalist had became a by*

339



2y> The Woman of His Dream

word for coolness and endurance. It was Carey,
caustic of humour, uncompromisaig of attitodi^
^o sauntered through a hai^ of bullets to fill a
wounded man's water-tin; Carey who pushed his
way among stampeding mules to reseue sorelyx
needed medical stores; Carey ^o had limped be-
ade footsore, jaded men, and whiisUed them ont
of ibeir depression.
There were two fingers missing from Carey^a
left hand, and the limp had become permanent
wbea he sailed home from South Africa at tl^e end
of the war^ but he was the personal friend of half
the army though there was not a single man who.
could boast that he knew him thoroughly welL
For none knew exactly what this man, ii^ scoffed
so freely at disaster, carried in his heart

As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel,
gazing steadfastly into the howling darkness, his
face was as serene as if he sailed a summer sea.
The great waves that dashed their foam over h\rv\
as he stood were powerless to raise fear in his soul !
He stood as one apart — ^a lonely watcher whom no
danger could appal.
