I trembled in every limb ; clammy perspiration oozed from my forehead ; I was possessed by a wild impulse to turn and flee -- anywhere , away from that unearthly cry . But Josephine 's cold hand gripped mine firmly , and led me on . That strange cry still rang in my ears . But it did not recede ; it sounded clearer and stronger ; it was a wail ; but a loud , insistent wail ; it was nearer -- nearer ; it was in the darkness just beyond us . Then we came to it ; a little dory had been beached on the pebbles and left there by the receding tide . There was a child in it -- a boy , of perhaps two years old , who crouched in the bottom of the dory in water to his waist , his big , blue eyes wild and wide with terror , his face white and tear-stained . He wailed again when he saw us , and held out his little hands . My horror fell away from me like a discarded garment . THIS child was living . How he had come there , whence and why , I did not know and , in my state of mind , did not question . It was no cry of parted spirit I had heard -- that was enough for me . `` Oh , the poor darling ! '' cried my wife . She stooped over the dory and lifted the baby in her arms . His long , fair curls fell on her shoulder ; she laid her face against his and wrapped her shawl around him . `` Let me carry him , dear , '' I said . `` He is very wet , and too heavy for you . '' `` No , no , I must carry him . My arms have been so empty -- they are full now . Oh , David , the pain at my heart has gone .
He has come XXXXX me to take the place of my own .
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