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diff --git a/33945-h/33945-h.htm b/33945-h/33945-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..712b5d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/33945-h/33945-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10792 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Unknown Sea, by Clemence Housman. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + + /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + + + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Unknown Sea, by Clemence Housman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Unknown Sea + +Author: Clemence Housman + +Release Date: October 5, 2010 [EBook #33945] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNKNOWN SEA *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, JoAnn Greenwood and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1><a name="The_UNKNOWN_SEA" id="The_UNKNOWN_SEA"></a><i>The</i> UNKNOWN SEA</h1> + + + + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CLEMENCE HOUSMAN</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 211px;"> +<img src="images/tp-image.jpg" width="211" height="236" alt="tp-image" title="" /> +</div> + + + + + +<h3>LONDON<br /> +<i>DUCKWORTH and CO.</i><br /> +3 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C.<br /> +1898</h3> +<h4><i>All rights reserved</i></h4> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4><a name="Edinburgh_T_and_A_Constable_Printers_to_Her_Majesty" id="Edinburgh_T_and_A_Constable_Printers_to_Her_Majesty"></a>Edinburgh: T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty</h4> +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br/> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#EPILOGUE"><b>EPILOGUE</b></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p>A solitary fisher ploughed the lively blue of +a southern sea. Strength of limb, fair hair, +and clear grey eyes told of a northern race, +though his skin had been tanned to a red-brown, +dark as the tint of the slender, dark-eyed, +olive-skinned fishers born under these +warm skies. In stature and might a man, he +was scarcely more than a boy in years; beardless +yet, and of an open, boyish countenance. +As his boat raced eagerly forward he laughed +for pride of heart, and praised her aloud after +a fashion native to the south: she was his +beloved, his bird, his blossom, his queen; and +for his warrant well built she was, promising +strength and speed in due degrees, and beautiful +obedience to him. Her paint was bright, her +ruddy canvas unstained, in contrast to a pile of +tackle, black from age and use: the nets and the +weighted cross-beams of coral fishing.</p> + +<p>White wings against the sky, and white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +crests upon the sea, broke the entire blue. +Far away to eastward, faint and hazy, suave +lines extended; but a coast that the boy neared +lifted gaunt and desolate cliffs, overlooking a +waste of roaring breakers. Midmost of these, +sheer and black as the crags beyond, a dark +mass rose dominant, like a sullen outcast from +the land holding rule, whose mere aspect fitted +well the name, Isle Sinister, without an evil +implication that went therewith. The young +fisher's memory was stored with dark tales, +born long ago to night and fear, cherished by +generations into fine growth, not by such as he +to be utterly scouted. The sound of buoy-bells +reached his ears for warning, but he eyed +the intricate lines of breakers, he recalled ominous +reports, only to estimate the nerve of body +and mind needful to any mortal bent there +upon a perilous trespass.</p> + +<p>For a tale went that kept every fisher well +aloof, to shun a danger worse than shipwreck. +Little gain was it held for any once driven +within the buoy-bells to work clear again to +open sea, since sorrow and disaster would dog +thenceforward, nor cease till due forfeit were +paid: the boat broken up and burnt, her very +ashes delivered to the sea. Woe even to the man +who dare take any least splinter to burn on his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +hearth, for sickness and death would desolate +his home. Nay, if a shifting wind but carried +the ashes landwards, blight or murrain would +follow surely. So went tradition, and conviction +attended it well, since not within memory +had any hardy or unfortunate supplied a living +test. Now truly this boy, who came coasting +perilously, needed to have in his veins the +blood of an alien race, over and above youth +and great strength, to be traversing a superstition +of such dark credit, in others bred deep +and strong.</p> + +<p>Years ago he had been fascinated by the +terrors and mystery of the place, and with +a human desire after the unattainable, most +strong and unregulated in youth, he had fearfully +longed for a strength to do and a heart +to dare more than all his world: to get footing +where never man had stood: to face black luck +and its befitters with a higher faith, defying a +supremacy of evil. Very early, out of the +extravagant vagaries of a child's brain, an +audacious word had escaped, sped by a temper +aflame, for which he had suffered—from +youngsters a day's derision, from a strict elder +a look that was worse disgrace. He deemed +that might come to be recalled to his credit. +Now that he was grown to a strength unmatched,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +with a heart proud and eager, impatient +of any mastery not of love and reverence, +a notion pleased him that like enough these +tales had been magnified to recover the self-esteem +of balked adventurers: a presumption +not extreme in one whose superb strength had +lowered old records, who found that none +could withstand him to his full satisfaction. +Here in the bright sunshine of high day, the +year's eager spring quick in every vein, young +virile audacity belittling all hazards, the lad's +heart rode so high and sure that he could +laugh outright in answer to the expostulation +of the Sinister buoys. Yet he crossed himself +more than once.</p> + +<p>'We will do it, Beloved, you and I.'</p> + +<p>To and fro he hovered awhile to consider +the lie of the reefs and select his way. Then +the sail clapped and swelled again, and the +boat heeled, as boldly he turned her, and +steered within the buoy-bells away for the +breakers. Again he crossed himself as now +were he and his boat committed on a challenge +to fortune.</p> + +<p>Gracious to bold and dexterous handling the +boat glided into the maze. The disposition +of the outer channels was so favourable as to +have gone far in beguiling the boy to his rash<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +undertaking; but there were hedges of wicked +breakers that thwarted him and turned him +aside disappointed. Creeping along warily +with only a corner of sail, steering with fine +sleight through the narrows, and avoiding +eddies, he carried his boat unscathed where +never another man he knew could dare to +follow. But ah! how meagre was that +satisfaction, since far, yet too far from him +the Isle Sinister held reserve. But at least he +was able to scan the rocky mass to advantage. +It towered up with straight, repellent walls +towards the land; it sloped down steeply +where he desired to win; but there to balk +him, minatory in aspect, stood the Warders—five +detached rocks—so lofty that the +highest columns of surf spouting there fell +short of their crowns. The ugliest threat +he recognised bided there, close against +success.</p> + +<p>'No fault is yours, Beloved, if we cannot do +it: nor hardly mine either, I think. Were +but one other with us we might be well-nigh +confident. With Philip at the oars! None +we wanted to share with us—and yet! Ah! +no. Not he nor any would.'</p> + +<p>He was deeply involved. At least a mile of +grim discouragement stretched on every hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +Then he came upon the sunken hulk of an old +wreck. Fiercer eddies and narrower channels +constrained him to drop sail and take to the +oars. A hard, dangerous, disheartening struggle +set him nearer by a poor measure, but lost him +in hope on the way.</p> + +<p>'Fools and cowards all! Pleased would +they be were I foiled, they knowing. How +they would jeer; ay, with worse, too. It might +go hard with me. But you, Beloved, never +fear that I should fail you, if they tried—no, +they would not,—not if they care for whole +bones.</p> + +<p>'To think that if we win, not for months +may I praise you by the tale, not till we both +have disproved and outlived the following of +bad luck. Defend us from one spying us here.'</p> + +<p>The boy glanced about with anxiety, giving +special scrutiny to one high cliff opposite. +There, scarcely distinguishable from the crags, +stood up a grey tower, the bell-tower of an +ancient devout institution, the House Monitory. +His face grew rigid under a sudden apprehension. +If he were sighted from above, what +should stay those bells from knelling for him. +He held his breath, and listened for them +to break silence on the instant, realising one +peril which he had not before considered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +'Hark!' would go the word, 'why does the +House Monitory ring? in daylight, in fair +weather? Who can be in peril off the Isle +Sinister?' From cliffs to coves the word +would drop, and start the swiftest sails out +to investigate, for his exposure to ridicule +or worse.</p> + +<p>In a past century three bells had been +towered there: consecrated and named after +three Saints, to knell for souls that passed, +unconfessed, unhouseled, in that place of +wrecks; to be potent against the dominion of +powers darker than death, too regnant there. +The best, the only, succour was this that +human fellowship could accomplish for doomed +lives. Now, though cultured intelligence +smiled at the larger superstition, the simple +held it at its old worth; and still, to the +comfort of their souls, a pious community kept +the custom, serving the bells; and for their +more tangible welfare tended a beacon light.</p> + +<p>A little chill ran in the boy's veins as he +anticipated the outbreak of those ominous +bells; never yet had they rung for any, far +involved as he, who had known escape. He +betook himself more desperately to his endeavour. +Necessity pressed him hard, for the +tide ran, and suddenly declared that retreat to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +the open sea was cut off: where he had sailed +free channels rocks grinned; reason withstood +a fancy that they had lain in ambush, and risen +actually to hem him in. Twice he risked with +the narrowest of chances, and slid safe on the +heave of a wave; on the third challenge a +treacherous, swirling eddy caught the boat, +swung it aslant, crashed it upon a lurking +rock. A plank gave way splintered, and water +spirted within.</p> + +<p>The boy rowed desperate, straining by quick +strokes and few, after deliverance from the +narrows. Yet when he dared to lay aside the +oars for an instant to check the leak, the boat +was pitching with threats close in on every +side. He could spare only a moment to catch +up his coat, plug with it hastily, and drag atop +the heavy cross-beams of his tackle; quick +upon the oars again he needed to be, desperate +of baling. Still the water oozed and trickled +in, to lie up to his ankles and slowly to rise. +There was no making out to sea; from the +Isle Sinister he owned himself cut off by +thick-set barriers; only the shore remained +not absolutely unattainable though furthest it +was.</p> + +<p>Patiently and cautiously the boy felt his way. +From stroke to stroke he held on safely, steady,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +quick-eyed, but told by the gradual water +against his shins that his boat must shortly +founder. Conscience smote him hard; the +near sure prospect of swimming for bare life +among the breakers opened his eyes. He had +held as his very own to risk at will his boat +and his life; now, with pangs of remorse, he +recognised the superior claim of a grey-haired +couple, who had been parents to him, who +bereft of him would go down to the grave in +grief and poverty. Of life, and the means of +living, but little right had he to dispose, +considering their due and their need.</p> + +<p>The gunwale sank low, lower, till a lurch +might displace the cross-beams, for they lost +in weight as the water within the boat deepened. +Yet point by point success attended, +and released the foolhardy lad and his boat +from dire extremity. They have chance of +clean deliverance; they are past the last +girdle of breakers, hardly a furlong from the +shore; they are upon sleek water, with the tide +against them but lazily.</p> + +<p>The boy rowed on with long, smooth strokes; +the mere sway of his body was as much as the +boat could carry, so little above the water was +the gunwale. He had halved the distance, when +down she went beneath him; and he swam,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +waded, stood ashore, the first man who had +ever won there living by way of the sea.</p> + +<p>But little elate could he be. He could glean +drifting oars and stretchers, his boat might be +recovered from the out tide, but the Isle +Sinister lay remote as ever. And his heart had +fallen.</p> + +<p>Ugly necessity gave no choice but to face +the breakers again in retrace of his perilous +way; for an alternative he could not entertain +that would entail certain evils more to be +dreaded than any risk.</p> + +<p>Straying aimlessly along the desolate shore, +the boy pondered, nervous now of many risks +he had braved hardily. He stopped once at +sight of a grey patch of calcined rock. There +it must have been that, not so long ago, wreckage +had been gathered and burned scrupulously, +and with it the bodies of two drowned men, +according to the custom of the coast. Instinctively +he crossed himself, with a brief prayer +for the souls of those two, cut off from life in +that evil place, where no help had reached but +the heavy knell, pitiful.</p> + +<p>Greatly desiring the silence of the bells, if +he were to escape with life, the boy turned his +eyes aloft, inclining to bespeak it. A lively +suspicion of hunger impelled decision; and up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +the cliff he went, his abashed vigour fain of any +new output. An uncertain path promised +fairly till half way, where a recent lapse turned +him aside on to untried slopes and ledges: a +perilous ascent to any not bold and sure and +practised. The spice of danger kindled the +boy's blood; he won to the top with some +loss of breath, but his head was high, and his +heart was high, and ultimate failure envisaged +him no longer.</p> + +<p>He stood among graves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<p>The lonely community had laid its bones to +rest in a barren acre. No flower could +bloom there ever, only close, dun turf grew. +Below, the broken, unquiet sea dirged ceaselessly. +The spot was in perfect keeping with +the sovereign peace of the grave; that blank, +unadorned environment of nature had the very +beauty that can touch human sense with the +concord of death. The young fisher stood +motionless, as if his presence were outrage to +the spirit of the silent dwellers below, so eager +was he for life, so brim with passion and play +and hearty thirst for strong years of sunshine +and rain. 'Yet how so,' said his heart, 'for +I too shall come to die?'</p> + +<p>Softly and soberly he took his way past the +ranks of low mounds, and considered his approach +to the House Monitory, whose living +dwellers might be less tolerant of his trespass. +For he realised that he had come within +their outer precincts unallowed. On the one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +hand lay a low wall to indicate reserve; on the +other he approached the base of the bell-tower +itself, and the flanks of the House Monitory. +He looked up at the walls, fully expecting to +be spied and brought to rebuke; but all was +blank and quiet as among the dead outside. +The tower rose sheer into the air; for the +rest, a tier of the cliff had been fashioned +for habitation by the help of masonry and +some shaping and hollowing of the crude +rock. The window lights were high and +rare. Except from the tower, hardly could +a glimpse below the sky-line be offered to +any within.</p> + +<p>He came upon a door, low and narrow as +the entrance of a tomb. It looked so obdurate +he never thought to knock there. Then the +sound of low, monotonous chanting, by women's +voices, poor and few, told him that he stood +without their chapel; and he understood that +the low door giving upon the place of graves +had not been fashioned for the living. Truly +he was alien and incongruous, although that +day he had surely been many degrees nearer +death than any dweller there.</p> + +<p>He made for the boundary wall, overleaped +it, and then by legitimate pathways came before +the entrance door. There he stood long, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +finally determined what he had come to say. +It was repugnant to him to ask of any mortal +cover for his doings, the more when they were +somewhat amiss.</p> + +<p>While he stood, casting about for decision, +he was a-stare heedlessly on a rocky spur near +by that bore the moulding of three figures. +High upon its face they stood, where a natural +suggestion had been abetted by man, a rough +pediment shaped above, a rough base below, +and the names hewn large: St. Mary, St. Margaret, +St. Faith. Of life size they were, and +looked towards the sea.</p> + +<p>Ashamed of his own indecision, the boy +lifted his hand and knocked at the wicket, so +to force a resolution within the limit of seconds +left. The stone figures clapped back an echo. +His heart sprang an invocation in response, and +straightway he relinquished thought of asking +an irksome favour of lower agents. So when +the wicket opened, this was all he had to say: +'Of your charity give food to a hungry +body.'</p> + +<p>To the pale, spare Monitress, half shrouded +in the gloom, the ruddy young giant, glowing +in the sunshine, said this: 'Of your charity +give food to a hungry body.' She paused +and looked at the boy, for his great stature,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +his fair hair, and grey eyes made him very +singular.</p> + +<p>The questioning he half feared and expected +did not come. The Monitress withdrew +silently, and presently returning handed a +portion of bread. She said, 'Not food for +the body, but prayer for the soul is chiefly +asked of our charity.'</p> + +<p>The boy's face flamed, understanding how +he was rebuked. Thanks stumbled on his +tongue, and no word to excuse could come; +so the wicket closed upon his silence.</p> + +<p>Not so closely but that the Monitress could +look again, to sigh over that creature of gross +wants with angel-bright hair. Surprised, she +saw that he was instantly away, and mounted +high by the three stone saints. She saw that +he touched their feet reverently, that he knelt +down, crossed himself and prayed, in a very +seemly fashion. She went away, of her charity +in prayer for his soul.</p> + +<p>He stood there still, after his prayer was +finished, and his bread, and looked over the +sea long and earnestly; for from that high +ledge he saw away to the Isle Sinister, encompassed +with its network of reefs; the tide +running low showed them in black lines, outspread +like a map below.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>An audacious design he revolved, no less +than to achieve the Isle Sinister yet. The +long lines of reefs forbade his boat, but him +they fairly invited, if strong swimming and +deft footing could pass him on, from rock +to wave, and from wave to rock, out to the +far front of the great mass where the Warders +stood.</p> + +<p>He argued with his conscience, that it +was no such risk as that he was bound to +encounter for regaining the open sea, since +this attempt need never commit him past +retreat.</p> + +<p>Sighting his boat uncovered, without delay +he went down. He got it emptied, the leak +plugged quite sufficiently for the time, the +anchor set out against the return of the tide; +then he raced, plunged, and swam for the Isle +Sinister.</p> + +<p>The first stretch went fairly; he met the +rough handling of the waves as a sturdy game, +and opposed with an even heart. Before long +he had to recognise grim earnest, and do +battle with all his might, so hard were the +elements against him and so cruel. The waves +hustled and buffeted and hurled; and though +he prevailed by slow degrees, the rocks +connived for his detriment. Again and again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +he won to a resting-place, so battered, breathless, +and spent, that to nourish fortitude, he +needed to consider the steady ascent of the +vast rock up from the horizon against his +nearing. A moment of elation it was, when, +looking back to compare, he noted that the +shore cliffs were dwarfed by the nearer proportions +of the Isle.</p> + +<p>But his stout heart made too little allowance +for the strain upon loyal members, so that at +last he bungled, fell short at a leap disastrously, +and was swept away, hardly escaping, gashed +and stunned. His memory afterwards could +but indistinctly record how he fared thenceforward +with rock and wave. A nightmare +remained of swirling waters mad for his life, +and of dark crags swinging down upon him; +coming nearer, swinging lower; with a great +shock they smote him. So he came to the +Isle Sinister.</p> + +<p>He clung precariously, lashed by the waves +into an effort after a higher ledge. As he drew +himself up to safety, his brain was clearing and +his breath extending, nor was it long before his +faculties were in order for wonder, gratulation, +exultation. Then he shouted aloud. Against +the roar of the surf his voice struck out wild +and weak. The ledge was so narrow, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +while his back rested against the rock his +feet dangled; he was nearly naked; he was +bleeding; soon for return he must face peril +again. Looking down at the waters below, +leaping and snarling, and over the wild expanse +he had passed, to the shore half a league +away, counting the cost in wounds and bruises, +still his young heart mounted above pain and +doubt, to glory in indomitable strength. He +flung back his wet head to laugh and shout +again and again, startling sea-birds to flight +and bringing out echoes hearty enough to his +ears.</p> + +<p>Surely that rock answering so was the first +Warder.</p> + +<p>Spite of weariness and unsteadiness of head, +he got on his feet, and passed from that difficult +ledge of rock round to the front, where +by steep grades the Isle showed some slight +condescension to the sea. As he advanced he +tried for ascent, unsatisfied still.</p> + +<p>The five Warders stood in full parade; their +rank hemmed him round; against his level the +shadow of the Isle rested above their knees, +between each and each a narrow vertical strip +of sea and heaven struck blindingly sweet and +blue. Sea-birds wheeled and clamoured, misliking +this invasion of their precincts. To his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +conceit the tremendous noise of the breakers +below sounded an unavailing protest against +his escape.</p> + +<p>He came upon a sight that displaced his +immediate desire to scale the heights above: +from the base below the tide had withdrawn, +and there lay a stretch of boulders and quiet +rock pools within a fringe of magnificent +surf. Down he sped straightway to hold +footing debatable with the jealous sea. Close +against the line of surf, at a half-way point +between the solid wall of the Isle and the +broken wall of the Warders, he looked up +at either height north and south. Equal +towards the zenith they rose, here based +upon sombre quiet, there upon fierce white +tumult, that sent up splendid high columns, +whose spray swept over the interspace of +tumbling sea and touched the shine of the +pools with frore grey. He sighed towards +those unattainable Warders.</p> + +<p>The air was charged with brine; its damp +stayed on his skin, its salt on his lips. Thirsting, +he went about with an eye for a water-spring, +and made straight for a likely cleft. +Darkest among the many scars of the rock it +showed; deep it went, and wound deeper at his +nearing. He entered the gape over boulders,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +and a way still there was wide before him; he +took nine paces with gloom confronting, a +tenth—aslant came a dazzling gleam of white. +Amazed he faced to it, held stone-still an +instant, sped on and out; he stood in full sunlight, +and winked bewildered at the incredible +open of fair sands before him.</p> + +<p>The wonder dawned into comprehension. +Though far eyes were deluded by a perfect +semblance of solidity, the half of the Isle was +hollow as a shell. Over against him rose the +remaining moiety; high walls of rock swept +round on either side, hindered from complete +enclosure by the cleft of his entrance. He +turned and looked back through the gorge, +and again over the sunlit open; it was hard +to believe he was out of dreamland, so Eden-bright +and perfect was this contrast to the +grand sombre chasm he had left. White and +smooth, the sands extended up to the base of +the dark rocks. There rich drapery of weed +indicated the tide-mark; strips of captured +water gleamed; great boulders lay strewn; +coves and alcoves deeply indented the lines +of the enclosing walls. To the boy's eyes +it looked the fairest spot of earth the sea +could ever find to visit. Its aspect of lovely +austere virginity, candid, serene, strictly girt,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +touched very finely on the fibres of sense and +soul.</p> + +<p>He stepped out on firm blanch sand ribbed +slightly by the reluctant ebb. Trails of +exquisite weed, with their perfect display of +every slender line and leaf betokened a +gracious and gentle outgoing of the sea. In +creamy pink, ivory, citron, and ranges of +tender colour that evade the fact of a name, +these delicate cullings lay strewn, and fragile +shells of manifold beauty and design. There, +among weed and shell, he spied a branch +of coral, and habit and calling drew him +to it instantly. He had never fetched up +its like, for the colour was rare, and for its +thickness and quality he wondered. Suddenly +the coral drops from his hand; he utters an +inarticulate cry and stands amazed. His eye +has fallen on a mark in the sand; it is of a +human footstep.</p> + +<p>Blank disappointment at this sign of forestalling +struck him first, but startled wonder +followed hard, and took due prominence as he +looked around on his solitude encompassed by +steep black heights, and heard the muffled +thunder outside that would not be shut off by +them. He stooped to examine the naked footprint, +and was staggered by the evidence it gave;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +for this impression, firm and light, had an outward +trend, a size, a slightness, most like a +woman's. It was set seaward towards the gorge. +He looked right and left for footprints of return—none +were there! A lone track he saw that +led hardly further, growing faint and indistinct, +for the feet had trodden there when the wash +of the ebb was recent.</p> + +<p>He turned, and following reversely at a run, +came to the far wall, where every sign failed +among pools and weedy boulders; circled with +all speed, snatching a sight of every cove and +cleft, and then sprang back through the +gorge.</p> + +<p>The gloom and the fierce tumult of that +outside ravine smote with a shock upon +masculine wits that now had conceived of the +presence of a woman there. Compassion +cried, Poor soul! poor soul! without reservation, +and aloud he called hearty reassurance, +full-lunged, high-pitched. Though but a feeble +addition to the great noises there, the sea-birds +grew restless: only the sea-birds, no other +living thing moved in response.</p> + +<p>He made sure of a soon discovery, but he +leapt along from boulder to boulder, hunting +into every shadow, and never a one +developed a cave; but he called in vain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +The sea limited him to a spare face of the +Isle; when that was explicit, he was left to +reckon with his senses, because they went so +against reason.</p> + +<p>The irreconcilable void sent him back to the +first tangible proof, and again he stood beside +the footprints pondering uneasily. Had he +scared a woman unclothed, who now in the +shame and fear of sex crouched perdue? But +no, his search outside had been too thorough, +and the firm, light, even pace was a contradiction.</p> + +<p>Up and down he went in close search, but +no other sign of human presence could he find, +not a shred of clothing, not a fragment of +food. That single line of naked footprints, +crossing the level sands from inscrutable rock +to obliterate sea, gave a positive indication +circumstantially denied on every hand. The +bewildered boy reckoned he would have been +better satisfied to have lighted on some uncanny +slot of finned heels and splay web-toes, imperfectly +human; the shapely print excited a +contrast image of delicate, stately, perfect +womanhood, quite intolerable to intellect and +emotion of manly composition.</p> + +<p>The steeps all round denied the possibility +of ascent by tender feminine feet; for they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +thwarted his stout endeavour to scale up +to the main rock above, that from the high +wall receded and ascended in not extreme +grades to the topmost pitch, where the sun +was hanging well on the ponent slope.</p> + +<p>His strict investigation took him round each +wide scallop of the enclosure, a course that was +long to conclude by reason of exquisite distractions +that beset every hollow of the way. For +the clear rock pools he found in these reserves +held splendours of the sea's living blossoms: +glowing beds of anemones full blown, with +purples of iris and orchis, clover red, rose +red, sorrel red, hues of primrose and saffron, +broad spread like great chrysanthemums' bosses. +And above the wavy fringes, never quite +motionless, dark wet buds hung waiting for the +tide; and the crystal integrity mirroring these +was stirred by flashes of silver-green light, +the to-and-fro play of lovely minute rock-fish.</p> + +<p>He had circled two-thirds and more when +to his vigilant perceptions a hint came. Some +ribbons of glossy weed hanging from shoulder +height stirred a trifle overmuch in their shelter +to the touch of wind. Instantly the wary boy +thrust a hand through and encountered, not +rock, but a void behind; he parted the thick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +fall of weed, and a narrow cleft was uncurtained, +with blackness beyond, that to his peering +dissolved into a cool, dim sea-cave, floored +with water semilucent, roofed with darkness. +Eagerly he pressed through, and dropped +knee-deep into the still, dark water. Involuntarily +his motions were subdued; silently, +gently, he advanced into the midst of encompassing +water and rock and darkness.</p> + +<p>Such slight intrusion of daylight as the heavy +kelp drapery allowed slanted into the glooms +in slender, steady threads; from his wading +hosts of wan lights broke and ran for the walls, +casting up against them paler repeats; when he +halted, faint sound from them wapped and +sobbed, dominant items in a silence hardly discomposed +by the note of far-off surf, so modulated +by deflecting angles as to reach the ear +faint and low as the murmur that haunts the +curves of a shell.</p> + +<p>For a long minute he stood in the midst +motionless, while the chill of the water told on +his blood, and the quiet darkness on his spirit. +Mystery stepped here with an intimate touch, +absent when under the open sky the sands +presented their enigma. His heart did not +fail; only resolution ordered it now, not +impulse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>He spoke again to presumable ears. Only +his own words he heard multiply in fading +whispers through the hovering darkness. +Silence came brooding back as he stood to +hearken.</p> + +<p>As his eyes dilated to better discernment, he +suspected that an aisle withdrew, from a faint +pallor, narrowing as it tended towards his +height, explicable if water receded there, gathering +vague translucence from some unseen source +of light. To verify, he was advancing when a +considerate notion turned him about. He left +the dim cavern, returned in the blinding sunshine +to the footprints, knelt by the last, and +set his fingers in the sand for inscription. For +a long moment he considered, for no words +seemed effectual to deliver his complexed mind. +When he wrote it was a sentence of singular +construction, truly indicative of how vague awe +and dread had uprisen to take large standing +beside simple humane solicitude. He traced +three large crosses, and then three words. +Simple construing would read thus: 'In the +name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy +Ghost at your service.' Moderately content +with that rendering, he transcribed it thrice +on the rocks, graving with the branch of coral. +At either end of the entrance gorge he set it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +and again large and fair above the hidden +mouth of the cave.</p> + +<p>Back into darkness he dived to take up +research, and wading towards the tremor of +light, entered a long recess that led under low +arches of rock, till light grew more definite, +and the water-way ended, closed in by a breastwork +of rock. But, this surmounted, the boy +saw water again, of absolute green, dark as any +stone of royal malachite. The level was lower +by several feet, perhaps the true tide-level, +perhaps yet another limited reservoir that the +sea replenished daily. He slid down the +scarp and went on, heartened by the increase +of light.</p> + +<p>The depth of the water varied, and the +boy swam more often than he waded. The +colour of the water varied; now it strengthened +into a lucent green, now darkness threatened +it, and he swam warily till it altered again, +unaccountably. As his passing troubled the +placid water, and ripples of colourless light, +circling away from him, sent wavering lines +of dim light rippling in response upon the +sides of the passage, he caught vague, uncertain +glimpses of dark rich colour mantling +the rocks.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, when light and colour were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +strongest, his way was barred, a wall of rock +closing it abruptly. Baffled and perplexed, the +boy swam to and fro in vain quest of an +outlet, till his wits leapt on a fair surmise +that inlets for light there must be submerged. +Down he dived, groped, found justification in +the arching rock, emerald flooded, struck +boldly through it, and rose to the surface +beyond.</p> + +<p>A glory of light and colour dazzled him, +momentarily repulsing his faculties from +possession of a grand cavern, spacious, lofty, +wonderful, worthy to be the temple of a sea-god.</p> + +<p>He found recovery, he found footing, then +straightway lost himself in wonder, for such +splendours he had never dreamed could +be.</p> + +<p>Fathoms overhead the great vault hung unpropped. +Sunlight shot in high up in rays +and bars through piercings and lancet clefts, +and one large rent that yet afforded no glimpse +of the blue. The boy's eyes wavered and sank +for solace to the liquid paving below, flawless +and perfect as the jasper sea of heaven. +There pure emerald melted and changed in +subtle gradations to jade green and beryl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +green; from pale chrysoprase to dark malachite +no stone of price could deny its name to +colourings else matchless. And there reflection +struck down a rich inlay that sard could not +excel: not sard, agate, essonite, chalcedony, in +master work of lapidaries; for the sombre rocks +were dressed with the deep crimson of sea-moss, +velvet fine. Amid the sober richness +of weeds hung the amber of sponge-growths, +blonds to enhance intense tertiaries. He +saw that nature's structure showed certain +gracious resemblances to human architecture: +sheer rocks rose up from the water like the +shattered plinths of columns; there were +apses; there were aisles receding into far +gloom; rayed lights overhead made a portion +raftered, and slanting down a way hinted gothic +sheaves and clerestory ruins. Temple and +palace both it was to the eyes of the intruder. +He could not conceive of any mortal, though +noble and exalted among men, entering, possessing, +presiding adequately in this wonderful +sea sanctuary that nature had fashioned so +gloriously, and hidden away so cunningly, with +a covering of frowning crag, and fencing of +reef and wave. He amended the thought to +except the noblest dead. Supreme in dignity,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +excellent even here, high death crowning high +life might be worshipped duly by such sepulture. +A slab of rock like an altar tomb +in the midst touched his perceptions to this +issue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<p>Importunate above measure grew the question, +barely displaced in the full flood of discovery: +Was the unseen habitant familiar here? +present here by some secret, easier ingress? +He drew himself up from the water on the +first rock, and, quiet as a watching otter, leant +prone, till his faculties, abroad with wonder and +awe, returned to level service. Not a sound, +not a ripple came to disprove his utter solitude.</p> + +<p>He slipped back into the water to examine +further; a sense of profanation, not to be +shaken off, subdued his spirit, and constrained +him to diffident movement through +the exceeding beauty of those jewelled aisles. +Wherever he went play of light and colour +encircled him: luminous weavings that strayed +into shadowy angles, investing and adorning +with delicate favours. Slender isles crept +away into gloom, extending into mystery the +actual dimensions of the great cavern: these +he must enter, every one, for his thorough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +satisfaction. More than once the marbling +and stains of the rocks deluded him, so like +were they to frescoes—of battle array in confusion +under a fierce winged sunset, of sea-beasts +crouched and huddled, prone and supine, +and again of sea-beasts locked together in +strife. He came upon the likeness of a skull, +an ill omen that dealt him a sudden thrill of +superstitious fear. It needed close scrutiny +in the vague light to decide that no hand of +man had shaped all these. Once light broke +in from above, and he saw overhead a narrow +strip of intense blue, and a white flash from +the wing of a passing sea-mew. He tried to +scale the cleft, so to reach the heights of the +main island; but the steep rocks gave no +sufficient foothold, and he dropped back into +the water bruised and discomfited. Tunnels +and archways there were, too low and strait +to let him pass. Attempting an arch, submerged +like the way of his entrance, his broad +shoulders got wedged, and he struggled back, +strangling, spent, and warned against needless +hazards.</p> + +<p>He never noticed that in the great cavern +one after another the rays of sunlight overhead +shifted and withdrew, till twilight, advancing +below, surprised him. His reckoning of time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +had been lost utterly, charmed out of him in +the vast of beauty and mystery. In a moment +he also realised that the lowest tiers of rocks +had vanished below the water. The tide was +rising. Hurriedly he shot away for return, +and groped along the dim passage. The water +had risen half-way towards the upper level, so +that he mounted there with no difficulty, and +made his way on, through the entrance cave, +through the kelp-curtained cleft, and out again +upon the smooth white sands.</p> + +<p>Too late! That he knew by the sound of +heavy waves booming from the outer ravine +before his eyes could certify how the tide had +made hours' advance, and was coming in with +a strong, resistless swell that would make short +work with the best swimmer alive. He +scrambled up to a shoulder to get a sight of the +reefs that had helped him on his way; the +nearest was already gone, and a tumbling whirlpool +marked its place. Except in the slack of +the ebb it were madness to make the attempt. +Sunlight still touched the heights, but the +quick southern twilight makes short stand +against night. Without question, till daybreak +came with another ebb, on the Isle Sinister +must he abide.</p> + +<p>To make the best of his case, he sought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +while daylight lasted after shell-fish to stay his +growing hunger. Then in the dusk he gathered +dry weed and spread it for his couch on a +ledge as high above the tide-mark as he could +reach. It was a lateral cleft, as good for his +purpose as any there. But he selected it not +wholly with regard to comfort of body; its +high remove above the mysterious footprints +lent it best recommendation. For with growing +darkness came a dread upon him; in an access +of arrant superstition he conceived of some unimaginable +thing stealing near upon woman's +feet. Reason stood up for a mild human +presence if any, but on ground no better than a +quicksand, very lacking in substantial elements. +Whence had those feet come? whither had +they gone? He could not imagine a hiding +too fine for his best vigilance, not in the open +at least, in directions that the footprints positively +indicated.</p> + +<p>As darkness fell, all the tales that had made +the place sinister in name and reputation came +thronging his mind, assuming an aspect more +grim than they ever before had worn. The +resolution, the firm reason he had relied on for +defence, began to quail before dread odds. +What wonder? That day such an assault +against reason had been made, such a breach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +lay wide and unrepaired, as left self-possession +hard bestead. Then was he faithful to right +worship; he prayed, and mortal terror invested +him no longer.</p> + +<p>Though faulty, ignorant, superstitious, the +young fisher was, a rare sincerity ruled his +spirit, an essential quality if prayer be to any +purpose, even great in efficacy by its own +intrinsic value.</p> + +<p>As, crossing himself, he lay down and +turned to sleep, plainly above the surf the +Warders returned him the sound of a far-off +bell—of three bells tolling together. He +knew the voice of the House Monitory. +Most comfortable was it, an expression of +human commiseration extended to him, of +special virtue also, he believed, to succour souls +against leaguers of darkness. All night he +knew, aloft on the cliff in the desolate bell +tower, a monitress would serve each bell, and +two would wait on a beacon-light, and the +prayers of the five would not cease for souls of +the living and souls of the dead, victims to fell +powers of the sea. Ah, blessed bells! And +ah, dear saints whose names they bear!—St. +Mary, St. Margaret, St. Faith! The House +Monitory prays to the dear saints; but the +simple, the ignorant, who go most in peril of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +that dangerous coast, when they bless three +names—St. Mary's, St. Margaret's, St. Faith's—do +not discriminate consciously between the +saints whose influence lives in heaven, and the +bells that ring in evidence of how that influence +lives on earth. He fell asleep.</p> + +<p>The tide came in, crept up the sand, blotted +out footprints and weeds, covered anemone +pools and boulders, reached the full, turned +and ebbed back again. The moon rose, and +as she mounted the dark clear-cut shadows +of the rocks shrank. The lad slept the +dreamless sleep of healthful weariness, till midnight +was long past, and a wide stretch of sand +lay bare again. Then in her course the moon +put back the shadows that had covered his +face; his breathing grew shorter; he stirred +uneasily, and woke.</p> + +<p>Looking down, he saw the sand bared of +the sea, white and glistening in the moonlight. +Quite distinct came the even stroke of the +bells. The night wind had chilled him, half +naked as he was, so he crept from his niche +and dropped to the sands below, to pace +away numbness. Only a few steps he took; +then he stood, and not from cold he trembled. +A line of footprints crossed the sand, clear +and firm, and so light, that the dainty sand-wrinkles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +were scarcely crushed out beneath +them. And now the mark of the heel is +nearest the sea.</p> + +<p>He knelt down to peer closer, stretched a +hand, and touched one footprint. Very fact +it was, unless he dreamed. Kneeling still, he +scanned the broken lights and shadows that +clung round the margin of rock-girt sand. +Ha! there in the shadow moves something +white; it is gliding half hidden by boulders. +A human figure goes there at ease, rising, +stooping, bending to a pool. Long it bends, +then with a natural gesture of arms flung up, +and hands locked upon the nape, steps out into +the full moonlight, clear to view.</p> + +<p>The kneeling boy thrills to the heart at the +beautiful terror. Whiter than the sands are +the bare, smooth limbs, and the dark, massed +hair is black as are the night-shadows. Oh! +she comes. Does she see? does she care? +The light, swift feet bring her nearer, straight +on, without a falter. Her shadow falls upon +him, and she stays and stands before him, +beautiful, naked, and unabashed as a goddess.</p> + +<p>Could she be one of God's creatures? No! +Yet because she was shaped like a woman, +youthful pudicity, strong in the boy, bent his +head, lowered his eyes to the ground. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +felt a shame she could not know, for her +shadow moved, her white feet came within the +range of his lowly vision. Perfect ankles, +perfect feet, foam-white, wonderfully set! +When the Evil One wrought in human +shapes, surely his work was ever flawed as +to feet!</p> + +<p>Still kneeling, he lifted his head, encountered +her gaze, and made the sign of the cross. She +met his eyes with a merciless smile, but before +the sign stepped back uneasily; yet her beauty +remained unblighted. Then must it be that +a sea-witch could be young and fair, of loveliness +innate, not spell-wrought to ensnare him. +He dreaded her none the less, afraid as never +he had been in his life before.</p> + +<p>And yet, because his eyes were steady to +meet hers, she read such defiance as she would +not suffer. She clapped her hands together, +and laughed in cruel triumph till echoes +sprang.</p> + +<p>'You are a dead man. Do you know?'</p> + +<p>He stood and fronted her boldly now, recovering +faith, most needful for the encounter. +By what he could see of her face it was cruel +and cold as death itself, and the gleam of her +eyes was like the keen, sharp glitter of a +treacherous sea. For he had not seen, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +his eyes had been on the ground, on her feet, +a flash of wonder and pity, for one instant +softening. Wonder at his large-limbed youth +remained covert; but his defiant eyes, his +gesture, had routed pity.</p> + +<p>'Your bones shall lie apart,' she cried. 'I +will choose a fair nook for you in the great +sea sepulchre. All the bones of other wretches +who have perished among these rocks lie piled +in a common heap—piled high! But you +alone of many a score having set foot alive in +this my garden—by strength, or courage, or +cunning—no matter how, your momentary +success shall receive some recognition. Maybe, +if I remember, when your skull is white +and bare, I will crown it with sea-blossom now +and then; and whenever I pass by, cast you a +tribute of coral, till the hollows of your ribs +are overfilled.'</p> + +<p>He felt that she had the power to make +good her taunting words.</p> + +<p>'I have faced death before now,' he answered +simply.</p> + +<p>She was angered, and hated him, because +he stood upright before her, with eyes that +did not waver, and words like proud disdain. +She longed to abase him before she +compassed his death.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>'How shall I take the forfeit? Shall I bid +sea-serpents crawl from the ooze of the deep +to crush out your life in scaly folds; or set +a watch of sharks about my garden to tear +your live limbs piecemeal when you venture +hence; or make the waves my agents to toss +you and wrestle with you, to batter out all +comeliness of form, and break your bones as +reeds beneath the gale?'</p> + +<p>Look, tone, gesture, drove home the full +horror of her words. Brave as the boy was, +the blood forsook his cheek, a momentary +tremor passed, and involuntarily his eyes +turned to the eastern sky, whereunder lay a +well-known shore, and his home, and the grey-haired +couple, who, bereft of him, would go to +the grave sorrowing. They faced each other +in silence, as two wrestlers mark each the +other's strength. A strangely unequal pair! +The tall lad, long-limbed, muscular, broad-chested, +the weight of whose finger was stronger, +than her full-handed might, knew he was +powerless, knew at least that no physical +strength could prevail against the young witch; +she, slender, smooth-limbed, threatened him +with torture and death, strong in witch-might +and witch-malice.</p> + +<p>Keen-eyed, she had seen that he quailed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +and softening, was half minded to forgive his +trespass.</p> + +<p>'Kneel again and pray for your life; perchance +I yet may grant it you.'</p> + +<p>Should his christened body grovel to her, a +witch? A ring of scorn was in his answer.</p> + +<p>'Not to you,' he said; 'I kneel and pray +only when I love and fear.'</p> + +<p>She hated him again: he meant that her +he hated and despised.</p> + +<p>'Fool!' she cried, raging, 'you defy me? Do +you not know that you are wholly in my power?'</p> + +<p>'Not wholly—no. Though, because I have +done amiss, my life be given into your hands, +my soul is in God's.'</p> + +<p>She put her hands to her brow suddenly, as +though she had received a blow. She stood +quite silent. Then she looked about her as +though she sought vaguely for something she +could not find. Anger had passed away.</p> + +<p>'Your soul!' she said, on a note of wonder. +'Your soul!' she repeated, and broke into a +scornful laugh. 'Ay, I remember something: +I had a soul once; but it is gone—dead. I +gave it in exchange for sea-life, sea-power, sea-beauty. +I drank of the nepenthe cup, and in +it my past was washed out and my soul was +drowned.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Wretched creature!' he cried, 'better for +you had it been your death-draught.'</p> + +<p>She read in his face horror, pity, loathing, +and longed with her whole being to abase him +lower than she was in his eyes. Better than to +slay outright would it be to break down the +self-respect that would not stoop before her +even to escape death. Oh, but she would try +for very perfect revenge; not by quick death, +cheap and insufficient; not by captivity and +slow death—no, not yet. He should live, yes—and +go free, and then she would conquer +him body and soul; biding her time, plotting, +waiting in patience, she would so make her +triumph full, complete, absolute, at last.</p> + +<p>Involuntarily she had drawn away into the +shadow of the rocks, leaving the lad standing +alone in the moonlight. She saw that his lips +moved. He was praying silently, unmindful +of her. With her dark brows drawn together +and a smile of scorn she wove cunning plans +for his ruin. Swiftly she chose her line: for +a witch confident, audacious, subtle, it was a +game easy and pleasant to play.</p> + +<p>Again the boy saw her stand before him. +Her face was mild, her voice low and gentle.</p> + +<p>'Tell me your name.'</p> + +<p>'Christian.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>She threw back her head with an uneasy +movement, but recovering instantly, resumed +her part.</p> + +<p>'How came you here? and why?' Though +not to be lightly reassured, he told her frankly. +Her dark eyes were intent upon his face; then +they dropped, and then she sighed, again and +again. Her breast was heaving with a storm +of sighs.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' she broke out, with a voice of passionate +grief. 'Oh, shame! you, who have the +wide world whereon you may range, you will +not leave me this one poor shred of land. A +greedy breed it is dwelling ashore, that must +daily be rifling the sea of its silver lives, of its +ruddy thickets, and will yield no inch in return. +And you have outpassed your fellows in greed—you +have owned it—you have boasted. Ah! +I grant your courage and strength excellent, +taken by the measure of the land; but, oh, +the monstrous rapacity!'</p> + +<p>Her voice broke with indignation. She +turned aside and surveyed the moon-white +level. Soon she resumed in a quick, low +whisper.</p> + +<p>'How can I let him go? How can I? Oh +dear, fair garden-close, mine, mine, all mine +alone till now—if your shining pools never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +mirror me again, if your sands take the print +of my foot never again—oh no—I cannot—no—no—'</p> + +<p>Swift pity responded as her lament sank +away to a moan.</p> + +<p>'Never think so! One brief trespass made +in ignorance is all you have to resent—is all +you shall have: not a soul shall have word by +me of your favoured haunt. Moreover,' he +added and smiled, 'I know no man who could +win here, were he minded to more strongly +than I.'</p> + +<p>She smiled back. 'Then go in peace.' She +passed him by to follow the sea.</p> + +<p>This sudden grace struck him dumb. All +too briefly glanced and worded was it for his +satisfaction. So fair at heart she was too. A +first young flicker of male worship kindled in +the boy's eyes as he turned to look after her +going.</p> + +<p>She halted, facing, and lifting her hand to +him.</p> + +<p>'Your boat was broken, you say,' she said as +he came. 'I tell you, your peril will be more +extreme when you try the reefs again for an +outlet, except you have a pilot of me.'</p> + +<p>'You!' he said.</p> + +<p>'Not I,' she laughed. 'The guide that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +shall send will be a gull pure white, whose +flight you shall follow. I have trusted you; +do you trust me?'</p> + +<p>'I will, I will.'</p> + +<p>'A strict promise! Though you seem to +be going upon certain death, you will trust and +follow?'</p> + +<p>'I will trust and follow, on my word, strictly +kept as the oaths of the many.'</p> + +<p>'Your pilot you will know by his call. +Listen: "Diadyomene! Diadyomene!"' she +shrilled like a sea-bird. 'It is my name—Diadyomene—of +a good signification for you. +I hold your promise; when you hear "Diadyomene" +you are pledged to follow.'</p> + +<p>She waited for no answer; with a gesture of +farewell was away for the sea, from the moon-white +sand springing into the shadows over the +harsh interval of boulders. The vista let a +vague moving shape show, lessening as she +sped across the desolate chasm without. One +strip of moonlight lay half-way, at the edge of +the retreating sea. There a swift silver-white +figure leapt clear, with dark hair flying an +ineffectual veil, with arms rising wide in responsive +balance to the quick free footing. It +was gone—gone utterly—a plunge beyond +restored her to her sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Christian stood motionless long after she +had disappeared, so long that the moon paled, +that dawn quickened in the east, that day +spread wide. Responding to the daylight, +broad awake rose reason to rebuke his senses +for accepting fair words and a fair shape as +warranty for fair dealing. And till midday +reason domineered; while he abode the slack, +while he battled for shore, while he mended +and launched, while the cry 'Diadyomene! +Diadyomene!' swept down on white wings, +went before, shifted, wheeled; while, so +guided, reefs and breakers threatened close +on every hand, fell behind and left him scatheless.</p> + +<p>Oh, safe upon the waveless blue reason fell +prostrate, abashed; and the heart of Christian, +enfranchised, leapt high in exultation, so that +with laughter, and glad praise, and proud and +happy calls of farewell, he set sail for home +and was carried away from the Isle Sinister.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<p>Though day was high, Lois, the mother +adoptive of Christian the Alien, sat in shadow, +for her small lattice was nearly blinded by the +spread of vivid fig-leaves jealous for the sun. +Flawless order reigned in the simple habitation. +No sign of want was there, but comforts were +few, and of touch or tint for mere pleasure +there was none. Over an opened Bible bent a +face worn more by care than time. Never a +page was turned; the hands held the edges, +quiet, but a little tense. For an hour deliberate +calm held.</p> + +<p>Then the soft, quick pat of bare feet running +caused a slight grip and quiver. The door +swung wide, not ungently, before Christian +flushed and breathless, and a flash of broad day +framed with him. He peered within with +eager, anxious eyes, yet a diffident conscience +made him falter.</p> + +<p>'What have I done? Oh, mother!'</p> + +<p>So frail she seemed to his large embrace. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +his hand hers he felt ever so slightly tremble. +He knelt beside her, love and reverence big in +his heart.</p> + +<p>'Why should you trouble so?' he said.</p> + +<p>She laid her hands on his head for pardon. +'Christian,' she said, 'were you in peril last +night?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>She waited for more to follow, vainly.</p> + +<p>'What was it? Where have you been? +What have you done?'</p> + +<p>'Mother, you were praying for me!'</p> + +<p>'Answer, Christian.'</p> + +<p>'I gave a promise. I thought I owed it—yes, +I think so,' he said, perturbed, and looked +in her eyes for exoneration. There he read +intelligence on a wrong tack that his honesty +would not suffer.</p> + +<p>'No, mother, it was not on a venture—I +have come back empty-handed. I mean not +such a venture as you think,' he corrected, for +among the fishers the word had a special significance, +as will show hereafter.</p> + +<p>'Say at least,' said Lois, 'you have done +nothing amiss—nothing you would be ashamed +to tell me.'</p> + +<p>'But I have,' he confessed, reddening, 'done +amiss—without being greatly ashamed—before.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>His heart sank through a pause, and still +lower at his mother's question, spoken very low.</p> + +<p>'Then I am to know that though I should +question, you would refuse an answer to me?'</p> + +<p>He could not bear to utter the word till she +insisted.</p> + +<p>Her face twitched painfully; she put him +back, rose, and went pacing to and fro. Helplessly +he stood and watched her strange distress, +till she turned to him again.</p> + +<p>'My boy—no—you can be a boy no more; +this day I must see you are a man. Listen, +Christian: I knew this day must come—though +it seems oversoon to me—and I was resolved +that so soon as you should refuse any confession +to me, I—I—must make confession to you.'</p> + +<p>She silenced his pained protest, and went on.</p> + +<p>'When my child was born, eighteen years +ago come Christmas Eve, our priest was no +worthy man as now; little good was known of +him, and there was bad guessed at. But there +was this that none here guessed—I only. And +you must know—it is part of my confession.'</p> + +<p>She spoke painfully, sentence by sentence. +After eighteen years her voice yet vibrated +with hot, live passion.</p> + +<p>'My sister—my young sister—came to make +her home with us; she would, and then she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +would not, for no cause—and went away. +She died—she died on the night my child was +born—and hers. Then I vowed that neither +I nor my child should receive sacrament of God +from that man's hands. He dared no word +when I passed by with my unbaptized child in +my arms; he met my eyes once—never after. +We were two living rebukes, that he but no +other could read plain enough. 'Twas in those +days that my man Giles went seafaring, so the +blame was the more all mine. He indeed, +knowing all from me, would have had the child +away to be baptized of other hands. But in +those days the nearest were far, and I put him +off with this plea and that; and come a day, +and gone in a day, and months away, was the +way with him then. For this thwart course, +begun out of fierce resentment, so long as that +did not abate, I found I had no will to leave. +Yet all along I never meant to hold it over +a week more, or a week more, or at most a +month more. So two years went, and a third +drew on, and that wolf of the fold was dead.</p> + +<p>'On the day he was laid underground God +took my child from me.</p> + +<p>'I knew—the first word of missing—I knew +what I had done. Conscience struck away all +hope. From the print of children's feet we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +traced how the smallest went straying, how +little hands shell filled went grasping for more. +I gleaned and keep. They said it was hours +before, at the ebb. Then the tide stopped us, +and that was all.</p> + +<p>'In my bitter grief I said at the first that +God was just but not merciful; since He took +the dear body from me and hid it in the sea +that I, who had not wrapped it for christening, +should never wrap it meetly for the grave. +Most just, most merciful! afterwards He sent +you to me by the very sea. I knew and +claimed you as you lay on the shore, a living +child, among twoscore dead men, and none +withstood me.</p> + +<p>'In ignorant haste, eager to atone, I was +loath to believe what the cross at your neck +told, with its three crosses inscribed, and your +sole name "Christian," and on the reverse a +date. Like a rebuff to me then it was, not +realising that I was to work out an atonement +more full and complete. I have tried. O +Christian, it will not be in vain!</p> + +<p>'All these years your conscience has been in +my keeping; you have freely rendered to me +account of thoughts and deeds, good and ill; +you have shared no secret, no promise apart +from me. To-day you tell me that your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +conduct, your conscience, you will have in +your own sole charge.</p> + +<p>'My boy, you do no wrong; this is no +reproach, though I cannot but grieve and fear. +But know you must now, that in you I present +to God my great contrition; in you I dare +look for His favourable grace made manifest; +a human soul seeks in you to see on earth +salvation.'</p> + +<p>Christian shrank before the passionate claim. +His sense of raw, faulty youth was a painful +shame, confronted by the bared remorse of this +austere woman, whom his heart held as mother +and saint. 'O God, help us,' he said, and his +eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>'Ay, Christian,' she said, 'so I prayed last +night.'</p> + +<p>'Mother,' he said, awed, 'what did you +know? how did you know?'</p> + +<p>'Nothing, nothing, only great fear for you, +and that sprung of a dream. Often the wind +and the waves have crept into my sleep and +stolen you from me. Last night I dreamed +you lay dead, and not alone; by you lay +my little one, a small, white, naked shape +crouched dead at your side. I woke in great +fear for you; it would not pass, though the +night was still; it grew rather, for it was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +fear of worse than death for you. Yes, I +prayed.'</p> + +<p>Through his brain swept a vision, moonlighted, +of the fair witch's haunt, and her nude +shape dominant as she condemned him. The +omniscience of God had been faint sustenance +then compared with this feeble finite shadow of +the same that shot thrilling through the spirit +of the boy. So are we made.</p> + +<p>Outside a heavy step sounded, and a voice +hailed Christian. 'Here, boy, lend a hand.'</p> + +<p>He swung out into the clear world. There +Giles, empty-handed, made for the rear linhay, +and faced round with a puckered brow.</p> + +<p>'What the devil have you been up to?'</p> + +<p>'Trying her paces,' said Christian.</p> + +<p>'Who's to blame then—you or she?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, not she!' said Christian hastily, +jealous for the credit of his new possession.</p> + +<p>'Well, well, that ever such a duffer should +be bred up by me,' grumbled Giles. 'Out +with it all, boy. How came it?'</p> + +<p>Christian shut his mouth and shook his +head.</p> + +<p>'What's this? Don't play the fool. As +it is, you've set the quay buzzing more than +enough.'</p> + +<p>'Who cares?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And you've broken Philip's head within +two minutes of touching, I believe.'</p> + +<p>''Twas done out of no ill-will,' protested +Christian. 'A dozen swarmed over, for all +the world as if she were just carrion for them +to rummage like crabs. So I hitched one out +again—the biggest by preference,—and he +slipped as you called to speed me off here. +If he took it ill, 'tis no great matter to +square.'</p> + +<p>'I would for this once he or any were big +enough to break your head for you as well as +you deserve,' said Giles savagely.</p> + +<p>'We're of a mind there,' said Christian, +meekly and soberly.</p> + +<p>Giles perversely took this as a scoff, and +fumed.</p> + +<p>'Here has the wife been in a taking along +of you; never saying a word, going about like +a stiff statue, with a face to turn a body +against his victuals; and I saying where was +the sense? had you never before been gone +over a four-and-twenty hours? And now to +fix her, clean without a cause, you bring back a +hole to have let in Judgment-day. Now will +come moils to drive a man daft.</p> + +<p>'And to round off, by what I hear down +yonder, never a civil answer but a broken head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +is all you'll give. "Look you there now," +says Philip, and I heard him, and he has a +hand clapped to his crown, and he points at +your other piece of work, and he says, says +Philip: "Look you there now, <i>he</i> was never +born to drown," and he laughs in his way. +Well, I thought he was not far out, take it +either way, when I see how you have brought +the poor thing in mishandled. It passes me +how you kept her afloat and brought her +through. Let's hear.'</p> + +<p>Though Giles might rate, there was never a +rub. Years before the old man and the boy +had come to a footing strangely fraternal, set +there by a common despair of satisfying the +strict code of Lois.</p> + +<p>Again Christian shook his head. Giles +reached up a kindly hand to his shoulder.</p> + +<p>'What's amiss, boy? It's new for you to +show a cross grain. A poor spirit it is that +can't take blame that is due.'</p> + +<p>Christian laughed, angry and sore.</p> + +<p>'O Dad!' he said, 'I must blame myself +most of all. Have your say. Give me a +taste of the sort of stuff I may have to +swallow. But ask nothing.'</p> + +<p>Giles rubbed his grey locks in perplexity, +and stared at the perverse boy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It can't be a venture—no,' he thought +aloud. 'Nor none hinted that.</p> + +<p>'Well, then; you've been and taken her +between the Tortoises, and bungled in the +narrows.'</p> + +<p>Christian opened his mouth to shout derision +at the charge, gasped, and kept silence.</p> + +<p>'There's one pretty guess to go abroad. +Here's another: You've gone for the Land's +End, sheared within the Sinister buoys, and +got right payment. That you can't let pass.'</p> + +<p>'Why not that?' Christian said, hoping his +countenance showed no guilt.</p> + +<p>'Trouble will come if you don't turn that +off.'</p> + +<p>'Trouble! Let them prate at will.'</p> + +<p>'Well,' complained Giles, 'I won't say I am +past work, but I will own that for a while gone +I had counted on the near days when I might +lie by for a bit.'</p> + +<p>'But, Dad, that's so, all agreed, so soon as +I should have earned a boat of my own, you +should have earned holiday for good.'</p> + +<p>'Then, you fool, speak clear, and fend off +word of the Sinister buoys, or not a soul but +me will you get aboard for love or money.'</p> + +<p>Eager pride wanted to speak. Giles would +not let it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You think a mere breath would drive +none so far. Ay, but you are not one of us, +and that can't be forgot with your outlandish +hair and eyes. Then your strength outdoes +every man's; then you came by the sea, +whence none know, speaking an unknown +tongue; and then——' Giles paused.</p> + +<p>The heart of the alien swelled and shrank. +He said very low: 'So I have no friends!'</p> + +<p>'Well,' Giles admitted, 'you would be +better liked but for a way you have sometimes +of holding your head and shutting your +mouth.'</p> + +<p>He mimicked till Christian went red.</p> + +<p>'Do I so? Well,' he said, with a vexed +laugh, 'here's a penance ready against conceit. +The Tortoises! I indeed! and I must go +humble and dumb.'</p> + +<p>'Such tomfoolery!' cried Giles, exasperated. +'And why? why? There's something behind; +you've let out as much. I don't ask—there, +keep your mystery if you will; but set yourself +right on one point—you will—for my sake +you will.'</p> + +<p>Christian looked at the old man, bent, +shrunken, halt, and smiled out of bland confidence.</p> + +<p>'The burden shall not light on you, Dad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +And has no one told you what I have done +single-handed? just for display of her excellent +parts, worked the boat and the nets too, and +hauled abreast of any. Not a boat that watched +but cheered the pair of us.'</p> + +<p>'I heard, I heard,' said Giles ungraciously. +'A show off for an hour or two. What's that +to work week in, week out?'</p> + +<p>Christian was looking aside. He saw the +head of Lois leaning out, attentive to all.</p> + +<p>He took a heavy heart out of her sight. +'She does not trust me,' he said of her face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<p>Scattered far and wide over the fishing-grounds +lay the coral fleet. There, a solitary, +went Christian to a far station. Yet not as an +outcast. He had tried his strength against his +world, and the victory inclined to him. For +a week he had been baited hard and cut off, as +Giles had forewarned; and through it all he had +kept his own counsel, and his temper, and his +place with the fleet, defiant, confident, independent. +And luck attended his nets. Therefore +another week saw unsubstantial suspicion +waning; scoffs had their day and died of +inanition; and the boy's high-hearted flouting +of a hard imposition annulled its rigour. Not +a few now would be fain to take their chance +with him. For Giles's consolation he had not +rejected all advances, yet as often as not he +still went alone, declining another hand. Thrift +and honest glorying in his strength so inclined +him, though a perverse parade may not be disclaimed. +Yet none of these accounted for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +distinct gladness for solitude that grew unawares.</p> + +<p>What colour were her eyes? The moonlight +had withheld certainty, and he had not given +his mind to it then. Dark, he knew, to match +her hair: rare eyes, like pansies dewy in shade?</p> + +<p>Down swung with their swags of netting the +leaded cross-beams from his hands into the +shadowed water, and its dark, lucid green was +faced with eddies. Down, deeper than the +fathoming of his eyes, plunged his spirit, and +walked the sea's mysteries in vain imaginings. +Mechanically he set the boat crawling while he +handled the guys. A trail of weed swam dim +below; it entangled. His wits said weed, +nothing but weed, but his pulse leapt. Day +after day, not to be schooled, it had quickened +so to half-expectancy of a glimpse at some +unguessed secret of the deeps. He was glad +to be alone.</p> + +<p>Body and mind he bent to the draught, till +the cross-beams rose, came out dripping up to the +gunwale, and neatly to rest. A ruddy tangle +hung among the meshes. He paused before out-sorting +to resolve an importunate doubt: was +this more than mere luck to his nets? It was +not the first time he had had occasion to debate +an unanswerable question. The blank westward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +seas, near or far, returned no intelligence +to his eager survey, nothing to signify he was +not quit of obligation.</p> + +<p>A witch she was, of an evil breed, one to be +avoided, pitied, and abhorred. No conscious +impulse moved Christian to seek her again, +though her beauty was a wonder not to be forgotten, +and she had dealt with him so kindly. +Yet of the contrary elements of that strange +encounter the foul stood unchanged, but the +fair had suffered blight, because from the small +return demanded of him his mother's heart had +taken hurt. A full confession would indeed but +change the current of distrust. He sighed, yet +smiled a little; he would have to own that a +wish persisted to know the colour of those eyes.</p> + +<p>From the sweat and ache of toil he paused +a moment to see where he lay. Under a faint +breath from the south he had been drifting; +the fleet also had drifted to leeward.</p> + +<p>Within a grand enclosure, satisfying coolness +and peace, and splendid shade reigned, for no +man's solace and reward.</p> + +<p>The sun rode high, and the west breathed in +turn, bringing a film of haze. A delicate blue +veil, that no eye could distinguish from the +melting blue of sea and heaven, an evanescent +illusion of distance, hung, displacing the real.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>Above the boy's head a seagull dipped and +sailed. It swooped low with a wild note, +'Diadyomene, Diadyomene,' and flew west.</p> + +<p>Christian upturned a startled face. The +drifting fleet had vanished; he was alone with +the gracious elements.</p> + +<p>Too loyal of heart to dream of excuse, he +rendered instant obedience to the unwelcome +summons, headed round, hoisted every stitch, +and slanted away after the white wings. Yet he +chafed, angry and indignant against so unwarrantable +an imposition on his good faith. Go he +must, but for a fair understanding, but to end an +intolerable assumption that to a witch creature he +owed payment indefinitely deferred at her pleasure.</p> + +<p>He owed her his life; no less than that she +might exact.</p> + +<p>He found he was smiling despite a loath +mind and anxious. Now he would see of +what colour were her eyes.</p> + +<p>The young witch Diadyomene leaned forward +from a rock, and smiled at the white +body's beauty lying in the pool below. She +was happy, quivering to the finger-tips with live +malice; and the image at her feet, of all things +under heaven, gave her dearest encouragement. +Her boulder shelved into a hollow good for +enthronement, draped and cushioned with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +shag of weed. There she leant sunning in the +ardent rays; there she drew coolness about her, +with the yet wet dark ribbons of seaweed from +throat to ankle tempering her flesh anew. No +man could have spied her then.</p> + +<p>By a flight of startled sea-birds, he nears. +She casts off that drapery. Through the gorge +comes Christian, dripping, and stands at gaze.</p> + +<p>With half-shut eyes, with mirth at heart, +she lay motionless for him to discern and +approach. She noted afresh, well pleased, his +stature and comely proportions; and as he +neared, his ruddy tan, his singular fair hair and +eyes, she marked with no distaste. The finer +the make of this creature, the finer her triumph +in its ruin.</p> + +<p>He came straight opposite, till only the +breadth of water at her feet was between.</p> + +<p>'Why has "Diadyomene, Diadyomene" +summoned me?' he said.</p> + +<p>Against the dark setting of olive weed her +moist skin glistened marvellously white in +the sun. A gaze grave and direct meeting his +could not reconcile him to the sight of such +beauty bare and unshrinking. He dropped self-conscious +eyes; they fell upon the same nude +limbs mirrored in the water below. There he +saw her lips making answer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I sent you no summons.'</p> + +<p>Christian looked up astonished, and an 'Oh' +of unmistakable satisfaction escaped him that +surprised and stung the young witch. He +stood at fault and stammered, discountenanced, +an intruder requiring excuse.</p> + +<p>'A seagull cried your name, and winged me +through the reefs to shore, and led me here.'</p> + +<p>'I sent you no summons,' she repeated.</p> + +<p>A black surmise flashed that the white bird +was her familiar, doing her bidding once, this +time compassing independent mischief. Then +his face burned as the sense of the reiteration +reached his wits: she meant to tell him that he +lied. Confounded, he knew not how to justify +himself to her. There, below his downcast eyes, +her reflected face waited, quite emotionless. +Suddenly her eyes met his: she had looked +by way of his reflection to encounter them. +Down to the mirror she dipped one foot, and +sent ripples to blot out her image from his +inspection. It was a mordant touch of rebuke.</p> + +<p>'Because I pardoned one trespass, you +presume on another.'</p> + +<p>'I presume nothing. I came, unhappily, +only as I believed at your expressed desire.'</p> + +<p>'How? I desire you?' She added: 'You +would say now you were loath to come.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I was,' he admitted, ashamed for his lack +of gratitude.</p> + +<p>'Go—go!' she said, with a show of proud +indifference, 'and see if the gull that guided +you here without my consent will guide you +hence <i>without my consent</i>.'</p> + +<p>Insult and threat he recognised, and answered +to the former first.</p> + +<p>'Whatever you lay to my charge, I may +hardly say a word in defence without earning +further disgrace for bare truth.'</p> + +<p>'You did not of yourself return here? For +far from you was any desire ever to set eyes on +me again?'</p> + +<p>So well did she mask her mortal resentment, +that the faint vibration in her voice conveyed +to him suspicion of laughter.</p> + +<p>'On you—I think I had none—but for one +thing,' he said, with honest exactitude.</p> + +<p>'And that?'</p> + +<p>Reluctantly he gave the truth in naked +simplicity.</p> + +<p>'I did desire to see the colour of your eyes.'</p> + +<p>She hid them, and broke into charming, +genuine laughter.</p> + +<p>'Do you know yet?' she said.</p> + +<p>'No, for they are set overdeep for a woman, +and the lashes shadow so.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Come nearer, then, and look.'</p> + +<p>He stepped straight into the pool knee-deep +and deeper, and with three strides stood below. +She bent her head towards him with her arms +upon her knee, propping it that a hand might +cover irrepressible smiles. Her beautiful eyes +she opened wide for the frank grey eyes to +consider. Many a breath rose and fell, and +neither offered to relinquish the intimate +close.</p> + +<p>Beautiful eyes indeed! with that dark, indescribable +vert iris that has the transparent depth +of shadowed sea-water. They were bright with +happy mirth; they were sweetly serious; they +were intent on a deep inquiry into his; they +were brimming wells not to be fathomed; oh, +what more? what haunted their vague, sad, +gracious mystery?</p> + +<p>'Are you satisfied yet of their colour?' she +asked quietly, bringing him to a sense of the +licence he indulged.</p> + +<p>'Of their colour—yes.'</p> + +<p>'How, then, are you not satisfied?'</p> + +<p>'I do not know.'</p> + +<p>'Bare truth!'</p> + +<p>'What thoughts, then, lay behind while you +looked down so?'</p> + +<p>She kept her mouth concealed, and after a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +pause said low as a whisper: 'Looking at your +eyes, I wondered if they would alter greatly +when your time came—to die.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, no, no,' he said, startled; 'how could +you!' His mind only caught the suggestion +to reflect upon her transparent eyes stricken +with the tragedy of death. From so gentle a +tone he could not gather a sinister hint; moreover, +she smiled to effect a blind.</p> + +<p>'Now that your quest is over, I in turn +desire certain knowledge. Gratify me, and +so shall your rash footing here to-day stand +redeemed.'</p> + +<p>She signed for him to follow, and led the +way by rock and pool to the entrance of the +cave. There upon a boulder she leaned, and +pointed him up to the rock above, where the +rough inscription he had set there remained +unimpaired.</p> + +<p>'That is your handiwork?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'What does it mean?'</p> + +<p>His heart thumped. To her he had addressed +that legend, not knowing what she +was.</p> + +<p>'I do not know that you are fit to hear.'</p> + +<p>Her just indignation refrained from him, +and his heart smote him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Ah! I should not judge. Hear then!' and +he read.</p> + +<p>For an instant her face fell, troubled, and +she moved restlessly.</p> + +<p>'And who are They? Who is the Father?'</p> + +<p>'God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven +and earth.'</p> + +<p>'He did not make me.'</p> + +<p>'But He did.'</p> + +<p>'Say that He made you if so you please: I +speak for myself. Pass on now. Who is the +Son?'</p> + +<p>'Jesus Christ His Son, our Lord, who suffered +and died to save us from our sins.'</p> + +<p>'Suffered and died!' she exclaimed, and +then added, 'I have no sins.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, you have!' said Christian, aghast.</p> + +<p>'You may have, may be, but not I. Pass on. +Who is the other one?'</p> + +<p>'The Holy Ghost the Comforter.'</p> + +<p>'Whose comforter? Theirs? yours? not +mine—I need no comfort.'</p> + +<p>When he said, 'O poor, lost soul, God have +mercy!' she rose to passion.</p> + +<p>'You shall not say so; I will not endure it. +And why should you look at me so? and why +should you speak it low? Am I to be pitied—and +pitied of you, who but for my pity would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +by now be a shredded and decayed patch sunk +deep?'</p> + +<p>'My body.'</p> + +<p>Diadyomene recovered herself instantly, +recalled to the larger conquest she designed.</p> + +<p>'Yet pass on again: there is more—"At +your service!" Whose?'</p> + +<p>'Yours.'</p> + +<p>'Mine! That is not possible,' she said +coldly; 'nor of the whole can I make +sense.'</p> + +<p>'It means that I offered to serve her whose +footprints I had seen—yours,—and pledged +myself by the sacred names that she should +have no fears.'</p> + +<p>'Fears!'</p> + +<p>Christian flushed painfully. It was not +possible to intimate to her how he had considered +that a woman unclothed would surely +shrink from a man's presence.</p> + +<p>'You make for a simple end by strange +means!'</p> + +<p>'How is it,' she resumed, 'that since quite +freely you pledged yourself so sacredly to my +service, you came most unwillingly when you +thought I had need of you?'</p> + +<p>Before her penetrating gaze shame entered.</p> + +<p>'For your need I would have come gladly;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +yes—I think so—in spite of incurring worse; +but for your pleasure——'</p> + +<p>'Not, for instance, had I wished to see the +colour of your eyes?'</p> + +<p>It was but poor sport to put him out of +countenance. Quite kindly she asked, 'What +now have you incurred that worse should be +to dread?'</p> + +<p>He began of the name 'Sinister,' and of all +it implied. She laughed, asking him why he +should expound that. He went on to the +definite ills that had beset him, because the +injury to his boat betrayed him to inquisition.</p> + +<p>'But how?' she asked; 'you admitted nothing, +else you failed in your promise to me.'</p> + +<p>'No, but challenged, I could not deny I had +dared here.'</p> + +<p>'Why not?'</p> + +<p>'It would not have been true,' he said, +puzzled.</p> + +<p>Diadyomene opened her eyes wide and +laughed.</p> + +<p>'And do you use your powers of speech +only to say what is true?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, indignant. 'How else?'</p> + +<p>'Now I,' she said, 'use speech to disguise +truth, with foul or with fair, or sometimes to +slay and bury it out of sight.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Then, when you declared you had not summoned +me, was that untrue?'</p> + +<p>'If I now answered "Yes" or "No," you +could be no nearer satisfaction; for you have +not the wit to weigh my word with mood, +disposition, circumstance, to strike a balance +for truth.'</p> + +<p>Christian pondered, perplexed and amazed +at that perverse argument.</p> + +<p>'I would another were here to unreeve this +tangle you are in. There is one, wise, tender, +a saint.'</p> + +<p>Diadyomene levelled her brows.</p> + +<p>'A woman! And you love her!' she said, +and astonished the inexperienced boy.</p> + +<p>'Above all! She is mother to me.'</p> + +<p>He said timidly: 'Of all evils incurred by +my presumption here, the worst is that between +her and me your secret stands a bar to perfect +confidence. I did not guess it would gall her +so. I may not tell you how.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, tell me.'</p> + +<p>'I cannot.'</p> + +<p>'A secret.'</p> + +<p>'Not strictly; some day I might, but not now.'</p> + +<p>She shot a keen glance, suspicious by that +heedless reservation that, after all, he was +shrewdly playing his own game. He went on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>'With her your secret would be absolutely +safe; and if her you would but include——'</p> + +<p>'But I will not,' she said peremptorily, 'nor +shall you take counsel with her, nor come +back well charged for convincing me of what +you may be pleased to call sin; for presently +we part for ever—for ever, alive or dead.'</p> + +<p>That struck silence for a minute. Then +Christian straightened and said:</p> + +<p>'I have then much to say first. I have a +message to you.'</p> + +<p>'To me—a message!'</p> + +<p>'The message of the Gospel. In the name +of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy +Ghost.'</p> + +<p>'Ah yes,' she said; 'we were to return to +that. "Suffered and died," you said of one—the +Son.'</p> + +<p>The young gospeller took up his task +void of all vain conceit; but humility, simplicity, +and honesty alone could not prevail +over the quick-witted witch when she was +bent on entangling him. A long hour he +laboured with the story of the Redemption, she +questioning to his bewilderment, involving him +in contradiction, worsting him again and again, +though he would not know it; till, weary of +harassing, she heard him in silence, with an +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>unmoved attention that was worse discouragement.</p> + +<p>His own incompetence he had known, but +he had not thought himself so unstable that the +pressure of patient eyes could weigh down his +clear sense; that the lifting of night-black hair +in the light wind, the curve of a neck, the slow +play of idle hands, could distract him. He +knew he had failed utterly, that he did not +deserve to succeed before ever her comment +began.</p> + +<p>'O the folly of it!' she said with wonder +and scorn. 'Truly I am well quit of a soul if +it bring intelligent creatures of flesh and blood +to worship, as highest excellence conceivable, +a joyless life, a degraded death. For others? +The more foolish. And you would have me +repent and be converted to that? I—I repent, +who have gained this?'</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet, flung up head and arms; +her bosom heaved with a breath of ecstasy, her +lips parted, her eyes shone; the glory, power, +magic, of the deep flashed into visible embodiment +in her. The perfect woman, possessed by +the spirit of the sea, unawares took worship of +the boy's heart. To seal her supremacy, a +wave leaping in the gorge broke to him the +unnoted advance of the tide. He thrilled as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +though the sea had actually responded to her +passion.</p> + +<p>To a new, wonderful note of power and +sweetness she began, with a face and gesture +that alone were eloquent:</p> + +<p>'O poor mortal! the deeps to you are +abysses of death, while the storm-winds, ravening, +hunt you. Oh, 'tis pitiful! Deep, deep +in the heart of the sea dwells eternal peace, and +fear is dead to all who dwell there. Starry +sea-blossoms grow stilly, by the winnowing +of broad fins stirred only. When stormy +terrors fall with black night on you above, +with me below is a brooding blank of light +and sound, and a darkness that can be felt +lulls every sense. From that deep calm I float, +I rise, to feel the upper pulses of the sea; to +meet strong currents that in the very hair +wake vigour; to leave silence far underfoot; +to taste of the glorious battle of wind and +wave. Strong, foam-headed bearers take me, +whirl me as I will. There is madness, rout, +and drunken frenzy of the elements for honour +of my presence. O the roar! O the rains! +O the lightning!</p> + +<p>'Deep, deep in the heart of the sea the +broad glare of this full sunlight is softened into +a mystery of amber twilight, clear and cool;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +and quivering cloud-shadows dim it to pearl, +and sunset throbs into it a flush. There the +light of the white moon is a just perceptible +presence of grey silver to tell me a night is +cloudless. She draws me—she draws me—to +her I yearn. My heart, my love, my life, rise +large and buoyant in worship of her. To her +fair face you have never looked up as I, at +poise, with earth far below and the air fathoms +above. Ah, so large and near and gracious +she lies! In the faint swell of a calm she +shrinks and expands, as though she breathed +with me—with the sea; a ripple of wind will +comb her into quivering lines of silver; and +the heave of a wave shatter her to fragments +that vainly slide and dance to close back into +the perfect disk. Involuntarily your hands +would snatch at the near splinters of living +silver. I rise through them to rarer air, and +lo! my moon has fled up immeasurably, and +shines remote, concentrated, placid.</p> + +<p>'Deep, deep in the heart of the sea, within +unhewn walls, are splendid courts, where +marbles discover their shy translucence, and +drink mellow life from widespread floors of +sand, golden, perfect, unwrinkled and unstained +from age to age; and drink milky fire that +hangs where nebulous sea-stars cluster that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +night may never prevail. Inmost wait vacant +shrines to gratify worship of sleep and dreams—pure +amber one, great crystals one, and rainbow +spars. One there is of moony mother-of-pearl, +meetest covert of rest, when life grows a +little weary of conquest and play, and greatly +enamoured of dreams. Ah, dreams! You with +a soul—can you dream? Nay—but I will not +know.</p> + +<p>'Deep, deep in the heart of the sea hide +brine-bred monsters; living there, dying there; +never touching the thin, vacant air, never +facing the broad eye of heaven. Quick +death by the grip of huge jaws meets the +drowning there. Your might—yours—is +puny: you never could cope with the fierce +sea-wolves. And your limbs are heavy and +slow: you could not play with the dolphin +and mock at the shark. To me come all by +love or fear. The frailest shape afloat, that +fears a shadow, into my palms drops from +the waves; and uncouth herds leave browsing +to hustle their finned heads under my hands. +And the terrible breeds, the restive, I catch by +the mane and school, against their resistance +driving sharp ivory hard between the joints of +their mail. How they wrestle and course, as +pride of their strength is mine, and joy of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +their speed is mine—ah! most supremely +when they most dispute it. Your eyes declare +wonder, since your broad limbs could match +the banded strength of a score of my slight +mould. I grant it here, where the touch of +the earth and the touch of the air are dull, +faint, weak, to flesh and blood nourished of +the deeps; but life and vigour and strength +transcendent evolve from the embrace of the +salt, cold sea, from deep indraughts of keen +brine.</p> + +<p>'Down in the deepest lies sleeping the oldest +of living creatures, placid in a valley of the sea. +His vast green coil spreads out for leagues; +where his great heart beats slow the waters +boil; he lifts an eyelid, and the waves far, far +above are lit with phosphor light. Runs a +tremor because of his dreams, I sink to the +weedy ears and chant peace, unaffrighted, sure +that no fret can withstand my song. Shall he +once roar and lash with all his spines, your +coasts will crumble and be not.</p> + +<p>'What, you—you with a soul, get quickened +breath and eager eyes from a few empty words, +as though even in you woke the sting of a +splendid desire for entering the reserves of the +sea, with intimacy and dominion like mine. +No—no—stand off! content you with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +earth and air. Never—never shall you lay +your hand upon my breast, nor set your lips +to mine, nor gain the essential word, for you +count your soul as priceless, and never will let +it go.'</p> + +<p>She ceased. Christian suddenly crossed himself, +turned his back, and went from her and +her magic. The forward tide checked his feet; +its crisp murmur and great undertones uttered +a voluble, soft chorus on that strange monologue. +He came to himself to know that he +offered outrageous offence to virgin pride, +unwarrantable, and far from his mind. Her +free, bold words were too coldly proud for +any thought of disrespect. He turned again +hastily. She was gone.</p> + +<p>He sprang to the brimming cave. 'Diadyomene,' +he called; 'Diadyomene,' and followed +up the moving water; but he had no definite +sight of her, and got no answer till he came +to the great cavern. No witch she looked +beside the jasper mirror, but just a slender, +solitary maiden. She did not lift her pensive +head, nor move nor look at him as he drew +to her.</p> + +<p>'Diadyomene,' he supplicated, 'have out on +me all that is in your mind. Call me dumb-squint, +beetle-head in mind and manners.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a quite impassive countenance she +answered gently:</p> + +<p>'It is in my mind that the sun is low and +the tide high. It is in my mind to put you in +a way where both may yet serve for your safe +homing.'</p> + +<p>Out came a sovereign smile of humour, +sweet raillery, and condonation blended, instant +on her investigation of his eyes. Humbled +and exalted at one fine touch, Christian's +judgment surrendered to her. She hindered +a word of it.</p> + +<p>'I can show you an outlet that will take you +to a sheltered reach behind the landward walls +of this Isle. So will you evade the worst races +of the tide. Furthermore, from the mainland +to the open you will need aid.'</p> + +<p>He answered unsuspiciously that of her +grace he had learned the reefs fairly.</p> + +<p>'Ah yes, and conned through but once,' she +said smoothly, and eyed him.</p> + +<p>'Conned twice—once either way.'</p> + +<p>'I sent you no summons,' she expostulated +quietly.</p> + +<p>'Do you think that I have lied to you?'</p> + +<p>She did not answer.</p> + +<p>With indignant emphasis he repeated, 'Do +you think I have lied?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Do you think <i>I</i> have?'</p> + +<p>Not a quiver crossed her front with the +mendacious alternative; not even for laughter, +when the face of Christian lent ample occasion; +for, as a fish with a barb in the +gullet not to be spewed out, was he impotent +and spun.</p> + +<p>While still he gasped, Diadyomene slid +forward into the deep and bade haste for daylight. +Fine swimmer he was, but his strokes +compared ill with an effortless ease like a wing-wide +bird's. Refraction gave her limbs a +lovely distortion, and pearly soft they were +through the beryl wash. Behind her merged +head the level just rocked and quivered; cleft +by his chin it rebelled in broad ripples. She +turned her head, curious of his clumsy method; +she could not forbear a smile; she reverted +hastily beyond the blind of her floating hair.</p> + +<p>But he could not follow where she offered to +lead, for she dropped her feet, and sank, and +walked the under-floor of rock, entering a deep +gallery. He dived, entered after, then breath +gave out, and he shot back to gasp.</p> + +<p>She presented a face of grieved surprise. +'There is another way to the same end,' was all +she said on his deficiency.</p> + +<p>He mounted after her then, by shelf and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +ridge, an intricate, retiring way, till she showed +him a dark gulf at their feet.</p> + +<p>'Leap!' she said, 'no hurt lies there.'</p> + +<p>Utter blackness lay below, repugnant to his +nerves; yet not therefore he stayed.</p> + +<p>'Diadyomene,' he said, with desperate temerity, +'you do not forbid me ever to see you +again.'</p> + +<p>Daylight struggled feebly in there. Her +answer was not direct, and it laboured.</p> + +<p>'I have no—desire—ever to see you again.'</p> + +<p>Quick for once: 'Have you a desire never +to see me again?' he said, and held his breath.</p> + +<p>He saw her step to the verge, lift her arms, +and poise. She delivered an ingenious masterstroke +to wound.</p> + +<p>'Be under no such apprehension. I will +convince you: for your assurance I will go +first.'</p> + +<p>'Hold back!' with a savage sob cried +Christian; leapt, and dropped with straightened +feet perpendicular in the gulf.</p> + +<p>With a thin sigh and a vigorous kiss two +elements received his descent. Diadyomene +leaned over the dark, and called 'Farewell.' +The word was echoed back by him hoarsely; +and again from further distance it came, ringing +sound.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>Beneath her breath she said, 'Some day I +will have grey eyes weeping before my face.' +Then laughter possessed her, and away she +sprang, to revel in the release of peals of wicked +delight.</p> + +<p>Very cold-hearted the sea-bred are, and their +malice is very keen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + +<p>Lois drew forward a young creature, whose +dark head did not fully uplift.</p> + +<p>'Christian,' she said, 'this is your cousin +Rhoda.'</p> + +<p>He blurted out 'Cousin!' in astonishment. +Two faces stiffened; the girl's eyes declined.</p> + +<p>'My niece,' said Lois briefly, 'and so cousin +by adoption.'</p> + +<p>Giles kicked his heel, so he guarded his +tongue duly.</p> + +<p>Considerate of embarrassing the girl with +open observation, he took note discreetly how +kin was just legible on the two faces. The eyes +of both were set overdeep for womankind; +they were alike in the moulding of the bones; +but the face of Rhoda gave promise of a +richer beauty than could ever have been the +portion of Lois. For a minute it bloomed +in a vivid blush, for their eyes met as she, +too, by stealth was observing him for his +great height and breadth and alien complexion.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>When afterwards his mother said, 'You +know whose child she is?' he answered, +'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Christian, I thank God for my good man.'</p> + +<p>Her sense he could not adjust till long +afterwards, when a fuller account of Rhoda's +past was given to him. Now Giles told but +little.</p> + +<p>'No, she had never set eyes on her before. +I? Oh yes, I had—the pretty little piece! But +when I bring her in, and have said no more +than one cough, the wife goes clean past me, +and has the girl in her arms, and calls her by +her sister's name, and sobs hard and dry like a +man. It turned me silly and rotten, it did. +I knew for a minute she didn't fairly know it +was not somehow her sister; no older than +Rhoda she was, poor thing, when she last +stood under our roof; and their last parting +had not been over tender. Well, I had messed +the business—I knew I should,—for there was +the wife going on, saying things, and there was +Rhoda getting scared and white, and putting +out a hand to me. And then I go one worse, +for I get hold of her, and say, "She takes you +for your mother, child," that the wife may +get the hang of it; and at that down she sits +sudden, all of a shake. But the poor wench<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +says, "My <i>mother</i>!" for—well, I suppose I +had lied sometime—she thought she was the +truly begotten orphan of an estranged brother. +Nothing would come handy but the truth—the +wife being there; so I even told it all. +Yes, I did, though it did seem cruel hard for a +young wench to have that story from a beard. +But it worked well; for when the poor child +knew not how to bestow her eyes, nor to bear +the red of shame, up stands the wife to her, +just woman by woman, and looks fierce at me, +and to her Rhoda closes all a-quiver, and in a +moment the wife has kissed her, blight and all, +and Rhoda is crying enough for both. That +was over an hour before you came in on us, +when out jumped "cousin" and "niece" to +clinch the business. I knew she would never +go back on them. To think that all these +years—well—well.'</p> + +<p>'Well, Dad—all these years?' said Christian, +incited by Lois's words to be curious of +Giles's conduct; for he was a comrade of easy +imperfection, not insistent of the highest rectitudes, +nor often a consistent exemplar of Lois's +strict precepts. Giles drew in.</p> + +<p>'A grape has grown from a thorn, that's +all,' he said.</p> + +<p>'But how came you——'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And a pumpkin has overgrown too. Here—clear +out, you've left a moderate body no +room to turn.'</p> + +<p>So Christian understood he was to be excluded +from full confidence. Loyal every +inch of him, he respected Giles's reserve +and never questioned Rhoda herself. He did +but listen.</p> + +<p>Clear, colourless years, regulated under convent +control, was all the past she knew; serene, +not unhappy, till the lot of a portionless orphan +lay provided for her in a sordid marriage, that +her young instinct knew to be prostitution, +though the Church and the world sanctioned it +as a holy estate. To her this blessed transplantation +into a very home gave a new, warm +atmosphere that kindled fresh life. The blanch +bud expanded and glowed, fresh, dewy, excellent +as the bloom of her name. And very +sweet incense her shy gratitude distilled.</p> + +<p>It was to Giles she gave her best affection, +to Lois most reverence and devotion. But to +Christian went a subtle tribute, spontaneous +even in an innocent convent-girl, to an admirable +make of manhood; some quick shivers of +relief that a certain widower with yellow teeth +did not possess her. And in Christian thrilled +an equivalent response; though he knew not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +how Rhoda's maiden charm, her winning grace, +her shadow even, her passing breath, evoked unaware, +with a keen, blissful sting at heart, vivid +remembrance of the sea-witch Diadyomene.</p> + +<p>'She likes the old hunks best of the lot,' said +Giles with complaisance. 'My bright little +bird! There's never a one of you young +fellows stands to cut me out.'</p> + +<p>He cocked an eye at Christian.</p> + +<p>'Now Philip comes along, and will have her +for seeing the caught frigate-bird. And off +she is flying, when back she skims and will +have me too. Oh! but he looked less than +sweet, and he's a fine figure too for a maid's +eye, and a lad of taste—he is.'</p> + +<p>'He! May be, for his fancies are ever on +the brew, hot or cold,' said Christian in scorn.</p> + +<p>'She's a rare pretty wench, and a good,' said +Giles, with a meditative eye.</p> + +<p>'She is: too rare and good for any of +Philip's make; an even blend of conceit and +laziness is he.'</p> + +<p>'That's so, that's so,' returned Giles coolly +to this heat, 'but I don't say he would make +a bad pair for just so much as the boundary +walk.'</p> + +<p>'How!' said Christian 'but she will walk +with me—she's my cousin.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Have you asked her?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'Well, I think she's worth an asking. She's +shy, and she's nice, and she's got a spirit too, +and more than one, I wager, won't be backward. +Rhoda! Rhoda! why, what's this grave +face you are bringing us, my pretty?'</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes addressed Christian's with +childlike candour and wonder. 'Why is it,' +she said, 'that the mother of that tall Philip +doubles her thumb when you pass by?'</p> + +<p>He flushed with knit brows, but laughed +and jested: 'I guess because she does not +like the colour of my hair.' But Rhoda had +noted a pause, and a quick turn of the eye +upon Giles.</p> + +<p>'When the boundary is walked, Rhoda, will +you pair with me?'</p> + +<p>'Oh!' she said, 'Philip wanted to bespeak +me, and I said him no, till my uncle should +have had the refusal of me first.'</p> + +<p>She curtsied before the old man in bright +solicitation.</p> + +<p>'Ah! my maid, here's a lame leg that can't +manage the steep. You must take my proxy, +Christian here.'</p> + +<p>'But that's another matter,' she said; 'I +doubt if I be free.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>Christian's face clouded, but he had no +notion of pressing her to exchange obligation +for inclination. When he was away, Rhoda +asked, troubled and timid:</p> + +<p>'I have vexed him. Is it for this? or that +I was curious——'</p> + +<p>'About that doubled thumb? Not that. +He'll clear that to you himself if I know +him. Well, then, I will, to spare it him.'</p> + +<p>He set forth Christian's position and the +ordeal not yet quite suspended.</p> + +<p>Rhoda went straight after Christian. She +presented both hands to him. With a glowing +cheek and brave eyes, 'I will walk with you!' +she said.</p> + +<p>'I am proud, cousin! But so? What of +Philip?'</p> + +<p>With a saucy sparkle she said, 'Do not +flounces become a girl's wear, then? You +shall see. Or do you expect a broken head +of him?'</p> + +<p>There was more of childish mischief than of +coquetry in her face.</p> + +<p>'Stay, Rhoda, I have to tell you something.'</p> + +<p>'No need—no need. Can you think I +have not heard?' and she left him to slow +enlightenment.</p> + +<p>Thereafter brotherly solicitude and responsibility<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +developed in Christian, and his liking +for the bright young creature grew warm, in +natural degree to match the shy preference +and grateful glow that answered for her +appreciation.</p> + +<p>Soon, so soon, his jealousy, his honest, blameless +jealousy, came to be piercingly sweet to +the girl's heart. How else, when day by day +Giles instructed her of his worth with tales of +his champion feats, and of all his boyhood, its +pranks and temerities, its promise by tender +honour and fortitude of the finest quality of +man; when her own observation told her that +in the ranks of youth he was peerless, in +strength, in outward fashion, in character, in +conduct; generous, gentle, upright; of a +sensitive conscience that urged extremes of +pride and humility; and brave. And to her +this worshipful youth condescended; nay, but +it was even with deference that he honoured +her and attended. One touch of saintliness +that had rarefied him was dispelled to her +naughty content.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda, my child,' said Lois, 'where is the +Book? Bring it.' And away the girl +went.</p> + +<p>Lois had found that the Bible, formerly left +mostly to her sole use, had, since Rhoda's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +coming, made unseen departures and returns. +Well pleased with the girl's recluse piety, she +was awhile patient of its want.</p> + +<p>'Do you leave the Book outside, child? +When it is out of hand, you should lay it back +here.'</p> + +<p>'It was in the linhay,' said Rhoda, 'and not +out of hand. And do you think 'tis I who +take it? 'Tis Christian.'</p> + +<p>'Christian!' said Lois, in a voice of such +surprise that Rhoda was disillusioned. 'Then +do you never study the Book alone?'</p> + +<p>'No,' confessed Rhoda, 'I but listen to your +reading and the Church's.'</p> + +<p>Lois was disquieted. She had ever secretly +deplored the infirm masculine constitution of +Giles and Christian, who accepted from her +a spiritual ration with never a sign of genuine, +eager hunger of soul. Yet this departure was +little to her liking. Though fain would she +have recognised the working of the Spirit, she +dreaded rather that this was no healthy +symptom in Christian's raw development. A +cruel stroke to her was this second reserve of +independence, invading the fastest hold of a +mother's influence. Back came the earlier +conviction that her boy's withdrawal from her +must be for wrong-going, and the strain of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +watchful scrutiny and prayer returned. It had +slackened when her God had shown such +favour as to take out of her soul that iron +that for years had corroded there, that she had +vainly striven to expel.</p> + +<p>She approached Christian with a diffidence +that was painful to him to perceive; she recommended +counsel in any difficulty—not her +own, she said sincerely, though with a touch of +bitterness. He was embarrassed by her close, +tender surveillance.</p> + +<p>'I have already taken counsel,' he admitted, +'and I think I have got understanding—at +least I have got certain information by heart.'</p> + +<p>'Of his Reverence?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Christian, you are not of the doubters?'</p> + +<p>'No, mother, of the ignorant.'</p> + +<p>Her piercing eyes examined his.</p> + +<p>'Who has told you so? You did not know +it of yourself. What evil communication +corrupts you?'</p> + +<p>There was no answer but the sufficient one +of the boy's conscious face. There was that +in the fire of it that inspired Lois to groan +in her heart: 'My boy has met a daughter +of perdition.'</p> + +<p>She did not miss her Bible again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lois's divination of the truth preceded +Christian's, though again into the presence of +Diadyomene had he made his way. There he +went high-hearted on a service that sanctioned +all risks—the recovery to the fair witch of her +lost soul, fair too he was sure.</p> + +<p>When he summoned her to baptism with +the first breath, she laughed him off. No, no, +she would have none of it. Let him tell her +first that of the nature of a secret, as he said he +would some day. And Christian, seeing it was +indeed germane, delivered the story of the +child cut off unbaptized, to the mother's undying +remorse. She rewarded him.</p> + +<p>'And she would have cared for the little +dead body to kiss! Ah, poor mother!' she +said softly and regretfully, so that his eyes grew +moist.</p> + +<p>'Diadyomene, if I die of the sea, would you +be so far pitiful as to render to her my body +again?'</p> + +<p>'No,' she mocked; 'I myself would keep it. +Did I not promise as much at the first?' +Then she derided the poor limitation that +would die of the sea through foolish preference +of a soul.</p> + +<p>He took up his mission with all his best +powers well ordered; but to no purpose he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +persisted—she fenced too well for him. She +began by denying any value to her soul; +before they ended she challenged him to prove +his own existence; and, to his amazement, he +found that he could not against her, and rude +demonstration he did not dare.</p> + +<p>He brought off with unsuccess, great joy by +her least favour, sharp stings by her least +resentment, yet no suspicion that the sea-witch +had him in the toils.</p> + +<p>Giles mending Rhoda's shoes clacked fondly: +'A pretty little foot she has. Such a pit-a-pat +little pair I never did see.'</p> + +<p>Away to sacred white sands flew Christian's +thoughts: he wondered if slender footmarks +lay there, and which way set. A little folly +came into his mind: to plant his bare feet over +those dints pace by pace—delicate near paces; +for the soles of his feet to walk intimate with +the mould of hers. The little folly in his +mind extended, set also his palm to the sand, +his cheek, his brow. He came to himself from +foot to face tingling, and amazed.</p> + +<p>'A sweet, pretty wench!' was Giles's refrain. +'Eh?'</p> + +<p>Christian assented.</p> + +<p>'One more to my taste does not tread shoe-leather. +Eh?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a singular expression Christian gave +a 'No' of sufficient emphasis. He looked at +Rhoda and grew red.</p> + +<p>Rhoda and Christian went amidst the fig-tree +and trained it up to the eaves. Lois and Giles +looked on from the porch; when they spoke, it +was low as the rustle of the boughs. 'Young +Adam and Eve' slid to Christian's ears. He +looked at Giles; saw the fond, complacent +smile and the shrewd eye; saw his mother's +face, grave, concerned, tender; glanced down +at Rhoda, and met her shy, happy eyes. He +understood, and like lightning shot the revelation +that with body and soul he loved Diadyomene.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<p>He found her curved in a nest of sleep full in +the sun. Her breath was gentle as childhood's, +and as guileless her face. Her head was regal, +for the hair dried crowned it in a dark coil +wound and bound with wisps of splendid +pearls.</p> + +<p>The young lover's passion resolved itself +into prayer. As never before in his life, with +concentration and fervour he importuned his +God for the redemption of her lost soul. The +shadow of his crest edged her shoulder; a +movement brought to the line of her cheek the +shadow of his. At that, prayer failed for an +amorous instant; eclipse dipped across her +brow; sleep parted; she was looking at +him.</p> + +<p>'Ah, Grey Eyes!' she said, and smiled.</p> + +<p>'Be gracious by one little word, Diadyomene. +Why never yet will you call me by my +name?'</p> + +<p>'Your name? No, 'tis an ill-made name.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +Put it away and bear another that I will +choose.'</p> + +<p>'I could not. Yet what would you +choose?'</p> + +<p>'Diadyomenos, may be!' she said softly, +smiling.</p> + +<p>The honour of the consort name caught his +breath.</p> + +<p>'But I could not; not even for that could I +lay aside the name I had in baptism.'</p> + +<p>'Baptism ever!' she frowned. 'Inadvertently +did I utter Diadyomenos. Asleep, I +had dreamed—of you—enfranchised.'</p> + +<p>From scorn to regret she modulated, and +his blood sang to the dominant close.</p> + +<p>She strained to dislocate sleep, on her back-thrown +head planting both hands. Her +fingers, with careless grip, encountered the +pearls; they sprang scattering, and her dark +hair drifted down. With languid indifference +she loosened and fingered the length of soft +splendours; another lustrous morsel flew and +skipped to the boy's feet. Covetous longing +fastened upon it, not for its rare beauty, +its immense value. A thing that had passed +through her hands and lain in her hair was +to him beyond price; and yet he forbore +sternly to seek after possession, because an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +honest scruple would not allow that an orient +pearl could come to his hands but by magic +purveyance.</p> + +<p>'If a name were to seek for me?' she was +pleased to inquire, on the watch for colour +which sprang when her words were gracious.</p> + +<p>'I know,' he said, 'what most fitly would +express you—oh! too well, for it is over a defect +that secretions of the sea have constructed +a shape of perfect beauty; the name of a pearl +only—Margaret. If you—when you shall come +to be baptized——'</p> + +<p>'You dare!' she said, and froze him with +her look.</p> + +<p>'It has come into my mind that you may be +a traitor.'</p> + +<p>'No!'</p> + +<p>'Hear now! Look me in the eyes and deny +it if you can. It is for the sake of another +that you seek after me; that persuading, beguiling, +if you can coercing me—me—who +spared you, tolerated you, inclined to you, +you would extract from the sea an equivalent +for her loss, and proclaim that her reproach is +taken away.'</p> + +<p>There was such venom in look and tone, +that his face grew strained and lost colour.</p> + +<p>'For your sake first and foremost.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>'By no means for your own?'</p> + +<p>'Diadyomene, I would lay down my life for +you!' he breathed passionately.</p> + +<p>'But not give up your soul—for me?'</p> + +<p>Ever so gently she said this. The boy +quivered and panted against suspecting the +words of their full worth. She directed her +eyes away, to leave him to his own interpretation. +The sunlight turned them to gems of +emerald; the wind swept her hair about her +clear throat; one hand clasped the curve of +her knee. Never yet had he touched her, +never felt so much as a thread of blown +hair against his skin. One hand lay so near, +straitly down-pressed on the rough rock, fragile, +perfect; shell-pink were the finger-tips. He +said 'No' painfully, while forth went his hand, +broad, sunburnt, massive, and in silent entreaty +gently he laid it over hers.</p> + +<p>Cold, cold, cold, vivid, not numbing, thrills +every nerve with intense vitality, possesses the +brain like the fumes of wine. The magic of +the sea is upon him.</p> + +<p>Rocks, level sands, sky, sun, fade away; +a misty whirl of the sea embraces him, shot +with the jewelled lightnings of swift living +creatures, with trains of resplendent shapes +imperfectly glimpsed, with rampant bulks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +veiled in the foam of their strength. A roar +is in his ears, in all his veins; acclaim and a +great welcome of his presence swells from the +deep, all life there promising to him dominion. +Intangible and inarticulate the vision spins; +and through it all he knows, he feels, that beneath +his palm lies the cold white hand of the +fairest of the sea-brood; he perceives dimly a +motionless figure seated, and the hand not in +his clasps her knee, and the eyes look away, and +the hair drifts wide. Then to his ears through +the great murmurs comes her voice, soft and +low and very clear, but as though it has come +from a great way off: 'Lay your hand upon +my breast—set your lips to mine—give up +your soul.'</p> + +<p>'Christ! Christ! ah, Lord Christ!'</p> + +<p>Diadyomene's hand lay free. Christian +stared at his palm to find that it had not come +away bleeding. His lips were grey as ashes; +he shook like a reed. With haggard eyes +he regarded the serene visage where a smile +dreamed, where absent eyes did not acknowledge +that she had verily spoken. Virtue was +so gone from him that he was afraid, of her, +of the sun. He dropped to his knees for +escape.</p> + +<p>When he lifted his head, it was to solitude<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +and long shadows. Her feet bruised his heart +as he tracked the signs of her going; for they +had approached him, and then retired; they had +gone toward the sea, and half-way altered back +by two paces; they had finished their course to +the gorge and again turned; there they had +worked the sand. A little folly! Enacted it +was a large frenzy.</p> + +<p>Yet he took not a single pearl away.</p> + +<p>Heavily drove the night, heavily drove the +day over Christian, comfortless, downcast, blank. +Was her going with anger and scorn divided +by pity? or with stately diffidence? adorable, +rendering him most condemnable.</p> + +<p>The dredge rose and swung in to great sighs +of labour. Black coral!</p> + +<p>In choice branches hard from the core, all +rarity was there; delicate pink and cream, +scarce green, and the incomparable black. +Precious—oh! too precious for the mart—this +draught was no luck, he knew, but a gift +direct from Diadyomene; a goodwill token +of her generous excuse sent for his solace. +Fair shone love in the sky, and the taste of the +day grew sweet. No scruple could hold out +against this happy fortune.</p> + +<p>When the black coral was sighted by Giles +from the quay, he raised such a shout as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +gathered an eager knot. In a moment one +flung up a hand, palm outwards, to display the +doubled thumb. Every hand copied. Christian +saw and went hot with anger, too plainly +expressed in his dangerous eyes. Yet would +he have little liked to see his treasures go from +hand to hand.</p> + +<p>'Not for present trade, I reckon?' asked +Giles.</p> + +<p>'No,' said Christian, 'my price can bide,' +and he carried his prize away with him +home.</p> + +<p>Not even Rhoda could admire and handle +that coral void of offence; Lois and Giles +only. One little branch, shell-pink, took the +girl's fancy; she turned it over, frankly +covetous. Christian saw by her shy eyes and +pretty, conscious smile she made sure he would +presently say, 'Keep it, cousin.' He could +not. A gift, fresh from the cold white hands +of the sea-maid he loved, he could not +give straightway into the ardent hold of +one who offered, he feared, to him her +young love.</p> + +<p>So sweet and dear had Rhoda grown as cousin, +as sister, he hated the suspicion that she could +care for him more than he desired or deserved; +he hated himself when, loving her most, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +her sake he was cold and ungracious. Rhoda, +wounded, resented the change with a touch of +malice; she allowed the advance of the handsome +idler Philip, no friend of Christian's +liking, she knew, though to her his faults +were not patent. That gift withheld, on the +morrow began Philip's benefit. Giles and +Lois looked on, and neither wholly condemned +the girl's feminine practice. Then what could +Christian do, harassed and miserable, but +return to brotherly guardianship to keep a +dear heart safe from the tampering of an arrant +trifler.</p> + +<p>Too fatally easy was it to win her away, to +keep her away. She came like a bird to the +lure, with her quick, warm response, making +Christian wretched; he gladdened a little only +when he encountered Philip's scowl.</p> + +<p>Compared with this sore trouble, but a little +evil to him seemed the sharp return of the +public ban for comment on Diadyomene's +gift. He was ready to flout it as before, not +heeding more ominous warnings plain in bent +thumbs, in black looks, in silences that greeted +him, and in mutterings that followed. A day +came when hootings startled him out of his +obstinate indifference, when from ambush +stones flew, one with bloody effect; a later<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +day, when a second time he had brought in too +invidious a taking.</p> + +<p>'I sent no gift!' had declared Diadyomene, +with wide, steady eyes, but that time Christian +did not believe her, though hardly with blame +of the untruth. On the morrow her second +gift rose. When the boy sought her again +she disclaimed once more; and curious of +his perplexity and of his gashed face, drew +from him something of his plight. Her +eyes were threatening when she said, 'Fling +away, then, what you fear to take.' To +her face then he laughed for pride and joy +that she should prove him. When that same +hour came round, he drew up her third gift.</p> + +<p>He cared too little that in the interim a mischance +had fallen against him; he had at last +been descried fairly within the Sinister buoys, +and chased by an unknown sail far west, escaping +only under dark to circle for home beneath +midnight stars.</p> + +<p>'O damnation!' was Giles's exclamation +on the third prize. 'This won't do—'tis too +like devil's luck. Ah, lad!' He faltered, +caught at Christian, and peered in his face: +'You have not—you have not—got fee-penny +of them below!'</p> + +<p>Christian reeled. 'Dad, O dad!' he gasped.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Steady, lad, steady! Here come spies as +usual. There's no stowing a scrap unseen. +Ah, they gape! Here, clear off home with this +confounded stuff. I'll see to the nets.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda's eyes shone like stars, her cheeks +were like angry dawn. She hovered about +Christian with open devotion, at once tender +and fierce, playing the child for some cover to +that bold demonstration. Christian's heart +shrank, for he could not understand her nor +appreciate her. But Giles had a tale to unfold +that brought light. Rhoda had come in +flaming from a stormy passage with Philip. +He had gained her ear to hint a warning +against Christian, justifying it against her +passion with a definite charge and instance +that he had the evil eye. She, loyal in defence, +carried away into attack, had rashly invaded +with exasperating strokes.</p> + +<p>'She's made bad blood, I doubt—the little +hawk!' said Giles. 'He's mortal savage now, +and there's mischief enough brewing without.'</p> + +<p>'What do you know?'</p> + +<p>'A sight more than I like, now I've gone +to pry it out. It looks as if not a beast has +gone and died by nature or mischance, not a +bone gets out or broken, but there's a try to +fix it on you with your evil eye. We've been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +in the dark overlong—though an inkling I +must own to.'</p> + +<p>'I too, by token of doubled thumbs.'</p> + +<p>'Christian,' said the old man with authority, +'never again bring in the black or the green or +any rarity; you can't afford it again.'</p> + +<p>Christian's head rose defiantly.</p> + +<p>'Drop your airs, you young fool! Why, +your inches are enough against you as it is. +If you weren't so uppish at times, there would +now be less of a set against you.'</p> + +<p>'On my word,' protested Christian, 'I have +borne much and been silent. I know the young +cur I owe for this scar, and have I laid a finger +on him? To turn the other cheek is beyond +me, I own,' he added, with some honest regret.</p> + +<p>It so fell out that on the very morrow that +same toleration witnessed against him fatally. +From the snap of a rabid dog a child died, +under circumstances of horror that excited a +frenzy against Christian, who had been seen +handling the beast after the night of stoning, +when the victim's brother it was who had +marked him for life. So his iniquities crowned +the brim, to seethe over with a final ingredient +when mooting came along the coast of a +trespasser off the Isle Sinister, by timing, incontestably, +the alien.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the fleet lay spread dredging, Christian, +obedient to direction from Giles, stationed +his boat in the midst; but one by one his +neighbours edged away, till he lay isolated deliberately. +This manifestation of mislike was +not unexpected, but it galled that weary day +when the burdens of his life were weighing +heavy.</p> + +<p>Exceeding the gross of more solid apprehensions, +Rhoda's face haunted him to disquiet. +By an unjust transfer, shame possessed him, +even as when Diadyomene had advanced naked +and unabashed before his diffident eyes. Indefinite +reproach clamoured all day at his conscience, +What have I done? what have I done? +And a further unanswerable question, What +can I do? beset him to no purpose.</p> + +<p>Before his mind hung a vision of prompt, +delicious escape, which he did not banish, +only because he did not think it could +seriously attempt his will. But the hours told +so on the aching boy, that for once he +abandoned his own strict standard of fortitude, +and his distress cried aloud to solitude, +'Diadyomene! O my love, Diadyomene, +Diadyomene!'</p> + +<p>First, a silver shoal close beneath his eye +leapt into air and slid again; then his stare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +discerned a trail of weed upfloating tranquilly: +no weed, two dim hands part it to the showing +of a moony countenance graciously inquisitive, +and pearly shoulders brightening as they rose, +till glistening white to the air Diadyomene lay +afloat cradled by happy waves.</p> + +<p>'Diadyomenos!' she said softly, and her +eyes invented dreams.</p> + +<p>For an instant, so mad was Christian rendered +by this consummate favour, that he +clutched the gunwale on an impulse to over-leap +it finally. Like hounds straining on the +leash, natural passions tried the control of the +human soul. He dared not speak.</p> + +<p>Diadyomene drifted gently lower with never +a word more, and lower yet imperceptibly, till +her upturned face began to dim. She poised. +Ah, beautiful reluctance! Unaffronted? O +heart that aches, that breaks to give worthy +response! He saw her lips moving; he knew +what speech they framed as certainly as though +he could hear: your hand upon my breast—your +lips to mine—demanded of him.</p> + +<p>Christian fell back, and crouched, and lay +sobbing dry-eyed until twilight drew.</p> + +<p>Home he came. By the way none greeted +him of all he met, and a many they were for +the hour; and none hooted after him, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +shrilling whistles at his back made him turn +to wonder what was afoot. Quick figures +dodged past him and sped.</p> + +<p>Apprehension dawned when he crossed the +threshold to find two scared women, and +Giles ghastly and bandaged.</p> + +<p>'Who did this?'</p> + +<p>'An accident, an accident,' muttered the old +man, seeing the boy ablaze with wrath and pity +before ever he heard a word.</p> + +<p>Out came a tale of outrage: while the house +was empty, Lois and Rhoda away bleaching, the +linhay had been forced, and the coral laid there, +Christian's store of precious, sacred coral, looted +entire. Giles, coming on the scene, had been +tripped up and left for stunned by one unaware +how an unhappy blade had gashed his +fall.</p> + +<p>'And who did it?' said Christian, hoarse +with his passion.</p> + +<p>'Don't say!' ordered Giles, and the women +were mute.</p> + +<p>'I will know,' he cried, stamped out ungovernable, +and beat away.</p> + +<p>The three looked at each other, pale and +fearful. Then Giles staggered to his feet. +'Help me after him, wife.'</p> + +<p>'Rhoda,' said Lois, 'go quick for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +Reverence—if he be abroad, follow him +quick.'</p> + +<p>Seething with just indignation, Christian +sped reckless after vengeance. Alarm of his +coming sprang up and flew before him along +the shore. Thence struck the ring of axes, +thence shone the flare of torches, showing +a black, busy swarm. Like a wounded +beast he yelled out once: the Beloved, his +boat, lay there under torture and dismemberment. +Then he hurled upon the throng, +raging to kill.</p> + +<p>Two went down instantly, damaged for life +under his bare hands, but the rest by sheer +weight of numbers overbore him. Axes rose +imminent, but there was no room for a sure +stroke in the close, desperate wrestle. Thrice +Christian gained his feet again; then had he +no need to strike any man but once; those he +gripped in the downfall had broken bones of +him. Cries and curses thickened, he only +fought mute. Foul strokes on him were +fair enough: they struck him together, they +struck from behind, they caught him by the +knees and toppled him down, they fell on him +prostrate, they trampled and kicked. He +was on his feet again, breathed and fain, when +one from behind got in a stroke at his head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +with a spar; then he flung up his hands and +dropped among them.</p> + +<p>When Christian came to himself he was +made fast hand and foot. Torches and dark +figures flashed and swayed before his giddy +sight; all round they hemmed him in. He +wanted sense, remembrance, and settled vision. +What meant this savage, cruel hate looking +out of every face? these yells, curses, and +accusations dinning at his ears? He was +bound upright in the midst—where? no, +where! One came and wrenched off remnants +of his shirt; another stood by making ready. +The wretched boy understood, and strained and +struggled desperately for freedom.</p> + +<p>Such a scene was not unprecedented among +the fishers. According to a rough, unwritten +law, the punishment of thieves they took into +their own hands, and enforced confession and +restitution. Scrupulous to a fault, honourable, +proud, Christian maddened at the intolerable +degradation threatening. A thief's portion +dealt out to him! the shame of it he could not +bear.</p> + +<p>The circle of pitiless, excited eyes watched +the swell of splendid strength expended to +exhaustion against stock and cord. He could +not escape from bonds; he could not escape<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +from life; with bleeding wrists, panting, +trembling, sane, impotence confronted him +with his inevitable award.</p> + +<p>The shame of it he had to bear. And he +could not even effectually hide his face.</p> + +<p>He heard the common formula when confession +was demanded concerning unlawful +takings. Truly his eyes looked wicked then, +and his teeth showed in a vicious grin. He +heard more, charges so monstrous, that he +deemed them sprung of mere insolent mockery, +or else of delirium. Dead silence fell, +that he might answer. He would not. Oh, +frenzy was returning, revolting him against +meet despair.</p> + +<p>The pain that he had to bear broke upon +his body.</p> + +<p>Of all the watching throng, none pitied him, +none questioned the just rigour of any penal +extreme upon him. To the long distrust and +the later developed abhorrence, the day had +brought forth a new fierce lust after vengeance, +exasperated now the might of his hands, superhuman, +had done such terrible work. None +but with pulse of satisfaction must keep time +to the stroke of the subjugated boy's long +torture; none but would reckon long fortitude +to his last discredit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>How long? How long? As, motionless +and bleeding, he gave no sign of failing endurance, +resentment kindled against his indomitable +obstinacy, and silence for his benefit +no longer held. A mutter ran: 'The devil +has cared for his own—he cannot feel.' And +to make sure that he had not passed from consciousness, +a torch was shifted to show his face. +It was pale as death, and beaded with great +sweat; but his eyes were wide and steady, so +they cursed and went on.</p> + +<p>The long-suffering northern spirit, the hardy +carcass that did not give out, excelling the +make of the south, outstayed the patience of +animosity. High upon a clamour swelling +anew one cried, 'Try fire!' snatched a torch, +and tested the substance of an arm. It was +Philip. When Christian's eyes struck at his +he defied them with his thumb.</p> + +<p>Yelled a confused chorus: 'There, see there! +proof enough. Make an end of the creature! +Send him back to the devil by the way he +came!' The note of death was recognised of +the victim; he blessed it, for his agony was great.</p> + +<p>But a little way on was the stretch of sand +where, fourteen years before, the sea had cast up +a bright alien child. Thither was drawn the +half-killed boy; and there, made fast to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +mooring-post, with his face set to the sea, knee-deep +in the tide, he was left to die. Along the +shore pickets were formed to preclude a miscarriage +to justice; and there, while the sea +trod forward, the flame of mob violence died +down to its underglow of settled vengeance, and +torches were douted and silence fell as the eyes +of men began to shirk their fellows', and their +ears to prickle at a word.</p> + +<p>Christian lifted his head to comprehend immense +clear spaces of sea and night, and a black +triumph. Not death was before him now, but +a new life. Hopeless patience departed before +passions during long torture suppressed, and +infernal laughter rolled in his heart at the prospect +of a consummate vengeance when the +powers of the sea should work with his will. +He knew she would come. Undoubting the +extent of her knowledge, her power, her gracious +surveillance, he knew she would come, to offer +a splendid exchange for death. O excellent +compensation! The touch of her hand, the +touch of her lips, the opening world of vast +delight, and therewith power to satiate all his +hates.</p> + +<p>With every breath torment heaved over him +still; raging thirst was there for fierce affliction, +the cruel sting of brine touched his wrists,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +appalling in its promise of intolerable exasperation +to raw wounds. Would she come, +as before, with sweet despatch if he could call +'Diadyomene'? But he would not; because of +other ears he would not utter her name; nor +ever because of other eyes entreat her from the +cover of the wave. Ah God, he prayed, give +me heart to endure!</p> + +<p>His sight was unsteady, so that the whirling +of the stars and the exaggerated swell of the +slow waves vexed his failing brain. But he +dared not close his eyes, lest, ignoring her +advent, he should lose her and die.</p> + +<p>The disworship of an earlier hour, the comfortless +void days, the bitter, hard reserves, +drew form from delirium; they stood in rank, +hateful presences, deriding the outcast: but to +pass, he knew, as a sleeper can know of a dream—to +pass when the magic of the sea should flow +through his veins. My past washed out and +my soul drowned.</p> + +<p>Ah God, he prayed, grant that I remember! +Ah God, he prayed, grant that I forget! +Strong hate and strong affection rose dominant +in turn. Stronger rose affection: through +waves of delirium the dear home faces came +and looked at him; the reproach of their eyes +pierced deep. What have I done—what can I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +do? he challenged. God keep you all, dears! +Oh, shut your eyes, there is no other way. And +still they looked—Lois—Giles—Rhoda—sorrow +of condemnation, sorrow of pity, sorrow of +amazement; till before their regard he shrank +and shuddered, for they delivered to his conscience +a hard sentence—his God, their God, +willed that he should die.</p> + +<p>The tide was up to his belt before ever the +human soul staggered up to wrestle. Too +swiftly now it rose; too short was the span of +life left. He was not fit to die: evil impulses, +passions black as murder, were so live and +strong in him. He could not die—he could +not. To be enforced from mere life were +bitter; to choose noble death were bitter; but +to choose such a death as this, pitiful, obscure, +infamous, to eschew such a life as that, glorious, +superlative,—too hard, too cruel a trial was this +for human endurance—he could not do it.</p> + +<p>Yet he prayed voiceless: Diadyomene, +Diadyomene, haste to deliver me; for the will +of God roars against me, and will devour.</p> + +<p>For pity, dear faces, keep off, or she may not +come. She would quit me of this anguish—who +could will to bear this gnawing fire? +They, too, shall have torment, and die with +horrors. The waves shall batter and break, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +sharks shall tear their live limbs piece-meal, and +down in the ooze coils of serpents shall crush +them out. Ah God! ah God! I love her so. +Would hell be undesirable if you were there, or +heaven perfect if you were not? O poor soul, +poor soul! who will have mercy? Kiss her, +mother, dear; upon her breast lay your hand +when she comes. O poor mother, who had +not a little dead body to kiss! Go, go—I +cannot bear your eyes. I want——Ah, ah, the +power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.</p> + +<p>He surrendered, and the tide was breast high.</p> + +<p>Solitude drifted back, and cleared vision +without and within. The despotism of torture +succeeded on the exclusion of throes more +virulent. He prayed for swift death, yet +shrank humanly as promise swung hard at his +face. He prayed against Diadyomene, and +yet strove with wide eyes to prevent the darkness, +quailing, pulsing at gleam of wave and +sweep of weed. He would give up his soul if +it were possible, not for carnal exchange, but +that hers might revive.</p> + +<p>Would she of the cold sea nature care greatly +for his death? Would she remember where +the outcast body lay, and fulfil her word uttered +in scorn to lay sea-blossoms about the skull? +Dead, void of pain, unresponsive to her touch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +could he be! O fair, calm life of the sea! +O fair, calm sea-queen! No, no, not for +him—death, only death, for him. God's merciful +death.</p> + +<p>The enfeebled brain fails again; sense and +will flicker out into misty delirium; from helpless +memory a reek distils, and the magic of +the sea is upon him.</p> + +<p>Through waves heaving gigantically to isolate +him from the world, the flash and spin of eager +life beckoned the blood left in him; great +strengths loomed, his on the loosening of knots +of anguish; a roar ran in his veins, noise and +tremor beating through him, fluid to it but +for his bones. Came trampling and singing +and clapping, promising welcome to ineffable +glories, ravishing the heart in its anguish to +conceive of a regnant presence in the midst. +Coming, coming, with ready hands and lips. +Came a drench, bitter-sweet, enabling speech: +like a moan it broke weak, though at his full +expense, 'Diadyomene.' Came she.</p> + +<p>Delirium flashes away. Face to face they +hang, shattered life and lost soul. He shudders +hard. 'Deliver us from evil,' he mutters, +and bows his head for a fatal breath and escape.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<p>'Too late. Wait till the tide go down. +What was there?'</p> + +<p>Hearts quailed at the sound that drove in, +for it was not the last voice of a spent mortal, +but shrill, but fierce, but like the first voice of +his indignant ghost. Four only did not recoil; +the rest, half-hearted brought to the rescue, +urged again: 'Wait till the tide go down,' +pulling back the two women from insane +wading. But Giles was forward, staggering in +the tide, floundering impotent against it; and +his Reverence turned upon them as intolerable +a countenance as when through his black flock +he drove, threatening the curse of Heaven. +Therefore two, though loath, swam out to fetch +in the boy's body. They cut the ropes from +him, and lifted him along with the waves to +hard land.</p> + +<p>Rhoda shrieked at sight of the deathly inertness +and the rent flesh, and hopeless, fell to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +an anguish of weeping; but Giles and Lois, +tearless, mute, with hand and ear over his +heart, sought and sought for sign of life, finding +none. Pitiless aid brought a torch, and +held it to dispel all hope of a flicker of life. +Could any look on the sad, serene face and still +pronounce him worthy of death, worthy the +burial of a dog? They did, even those whom +kindness to the parents had constrained far, for +among themselves they said: 'Persuade them +away, and his Reverence. Best to serve the +body with its grave quick and meet, in the +sea, lest they want it laid in holy ground.' +But Lois, who would not believe her son yet +dead, and Giles, who could not believe him +still alive, would have and hold him, living +or dead, and none with heart of flesh could +withstand them. So the limp, lifeless burden +was taken up along the weary shore, past the +doors of the street, close shut every one, and +delivered to the weak shelter of home for the +nonce.</p> + +<p>Against life and decent burial had Christian's +last desire been: these to impose was all the +service great love for him could conceive, +though the broken body, dreadful to see, +dreadful to handle, made silent appeal against +a common valuation of life. Through tireless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +effort to provoke breath despair hovered, hour-long, +till response came in a faintest flutter of +life at lips and heart; and chafed with cordials +and wrapped about with warmth, the shadow of +pain drew over his face and weak spasms flexed +his hands as tyrannous vitality haled back the +reluctant spirit into bondage. His eyes opened +upon them with sense and recognition, a feeble +effort to move fetched a groan, and again he +relapsed deathlike. So and again all through +the long night watches the desperate debate of +life and death lasted.</p> + +<p>Through close window and door the sigh of +the night and the moan of the far sea spoke +continually, and covered to dull and finite ears +the sound of the sunrise coming over the +distant hills.</p> + +<p>Not dead, and not dead, and yet again not +dead! With that recurrent stroke of sense +was welded again the mortal unit half gone +to dissolution. Day came filtering in on wan +faces brightened to fearful hope, for Christian +assuredly lived and would live: consciousness +held, and his eyes waked and asked. The four +knelt together, and thanked their God aloud +for his life, tears running free; he turned his +head away in great despair, knowing that he +was condemned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Whose prayers should prevail, theirs or his? +He must die: he would die. But every hour +brought firmer denial to his pitiful desire for +death. What had he done, his anguish cried +up to heaven, that his God should withhold an +honest due? For death and its blessed ease +and safety had he renounced the glorious sea-life, +not for this intolerable infliction of a life +miserable, degraded, branded for ever with +memory of one disgraceful hour.</p> + +<p>Fever declared that always still he stood +within a circle of fire; his skin was hot with +the heat of men's eyes; the stroke of his blood +was pain and shame that he had to bear; +always, always so it would be.</p> + +<p>Healing came to close the wounds of his +body, but the incurable wounds of a proud +spirit gaped and bled hot and fresh, and even +under the pitying eyes of love quivered and +shrank. A sound from the outer world, of +footstep or voice, crushed him intolerably under +fresh weights of degradation.</p> + +<p>The sound of footstep and voice would +start hasty barring of shutter and door, hinting +to him that his doom of life was yet +remittant.</p> + +<p>With infinite caution, and despite his great +weakness and pain, he got his knife into his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +own secret keeping. Out of sight it lay +bare for a fond hand to kiss its sweet keen +line: life held some blisses it could promise +him yet.</p> + +<p>Indefinite revenge was not enough: the +thought of actual elaborate murder grew so +dear, he would not for any price forgo +it. Himself would be satisfied, his hands, +his eyes, his ears, with the circumstances of +a bloody despatch from life of him, and +him, and him, each witness of his torture +and shame, beneath whose remembered eye +his spirit now shrieked and writhed. Let +him so doing perish body and soul. So +low in the dust lay he, the dear hope of +Lois, because the heart of his pride was +broken.</p> + +<p>Imperfectly he heard a young voice passionately +urging for vengeance, retribution, +redress, asking after the law of the land +against a brutal custom carried to unaccustomed +extreme.</p> + +<p>Redress! His eyes he shut when his lips +bade the girl believe that he had no desire +to invoke any earthly powers to avenge his +wrongs. On his hand her tears fell like rain; +she bowed her head at his knees, with wonder +within at the christian saint of so perfect a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +heart. Back to bare steel crept his hand, +tear-wet.</p> + +<p>But his fierce hate betrayed him. A gust +of fever and madness lifted him up, enraged +at the body unready, the burnt right arm +unready; his left hand and the devil in him +snatched out the knife, and drove it at the +planks on his level in one instant of exuberant +capacity. In and out again it went; +he sobbed a great laugh for the cost and +its sufficiency, and with spent force fell back +a-sweat. Swift in trod Lois, and he was still, +with the blade out of sight, not knowing that +clean through the inches of wood the bright +blade had looked in a line of sunlight straight +to his mother's eye.</p> + +<p>She was not gentle then, nor cared for his +hurts; with quick mastery of him while he +cowered and winced in nerveless collapse, she +discovered and plucked away his naked paramour. +Dumb-struck she stood in accomplished +dismay. Into the impotent wretch +defiance entered; with insolent assertion his +eyes affronted hers; unmasked, from his +face looked the very truth of hatred and lust +of blood, shameless at exposure.</p> + +<p>Mother and son drew breath for battle.</p> + +<p>'What name shall I call you by?' she cried.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +'You have borne that name of Christ all your +life, and now do renounce His cross.'</p> + +<p>'Diadyomenos' sang to him out of the past.</p> + +<p>'Your face is the face of Cain already, not +the face of my son, my dear son given me by +the mercy of God. It is like the curse of +God!'</p> + +<p>She fell on her knees and grasped him hard. +Her prayers came upon him like terrible +strokes; heaviest to reach him were prayers +to her God. He would not answer nor say +amen; his own one passionate prayer had been +unregarded, and he hardened his heart.</p> + +<p>'I took you from the death of the sea, and +loved you and cared for you as more to me +than the child of my body. And when with +manhood and freewill came trial by sorrow and +pain—hard, oh! hard indeed—then I saw my +blessing in you and touched reward. My son, +my son, the son that never was, was brave and +patient and long-suffering and meek, because +he lay at the feet of the Lord Christ a +faithful follower and servant; he never complained, +nor cherished an evil hate; he forgave, +and asked that none should avenge him. Who +then, among mothers, could rejoice as I, and +so glory in her son? Ah! ah! like a serpent +tongue it flickered in the sunlight! Christian,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +the wretchedest of mothers asks you to have +mercy upon her. Ah, you will—must. I +will not rise from my knees, nor take my +hands from you, except you promise to put +vengeance out of your heart. Your hate +blasts me, me first before all others. Your +blade threatens my heart, will pierce it through +if it strike for another's.' She was moaning +for woe of that hurt. He turned his face +away, obdurate still, though the reproach of +undeserved esteem had gone deep as any of +undeserved shame.</p> + +<p>The moaning fell into low prayer. The +guilty soul heard that it was not for him she +prayed; the old weary penitence for an unredeemed +transgression was all her burden +now: a sign she asked, one little sign that +her poor effort at atonement was not rejected +of Heaven. He would not give it; no, he +could not. Yet he dreaded that her strenuous +supplication must win response, in his great +ignorance half believing that some power from +above would, against his will, force him to +concession.</p> + +<p>He looked again at the dear grey head abased +in his unworthy presence out of endless remorse +for one error. Her God did not answer. +Himself was weary of her importunity, weary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +of the pain of her hands: and he loved her so! +And her God did not answer: and he loved +her so!</p> + +<p>Silently he laid his hand upon hers. His +eyes were full of tears, as he said, 'Kiss me, +mother.' She had conquered: he promised.</p> + +<p>'Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God!' +she said; and he repeated, 'Deliver me from +blood-guiltiness, O God.'</p> + +<p>'Mother, mother, pray that I may die!' and +then he broke down utterly and wept like a +child, and was not even ashamed.</p> + +<p>Ah, poor mother! Soon she came to know +that when her son gave up his will to her he +shut up his heart the faster. His misery never +spoke, but silent tears would flow unchecked +and unconcealed, and she could give him no +comfort.</p> + +<p>Helpless need like his is a shadow of the +Almighty by which men believe; but he could +not with a right heart pray because, though +he had renounced vengeance, forgiveness was +a thing apart and impossible.</p> + +<p>How to bear the world and its eyes was the +prospect that filled his sky. All his waking +hours his heart gazed and gazed thereat, and +stayed unacquainted, still, and appalled.</p> + +<p>Now that in sleep blood was out of his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +dreams a vision cruelly sweet came in place, +and he was in the presence of Diadyomene, +following her, reaching to her, close to her, +yet never quite winning the perfect pressure +of her lips, nor her gracious surrender to the +worship of his hand; and waking was to unrighteous +regret that he had turned from that +splendid offer and lost it.</p> + +<p>Too swift and few ran the suns, and the inevitable +time was at hand for bearing the world +and its eyes under the hard bond of his promise. +The youth and vigour of his body set him on +his feet oversoon, while all the soundness his +spirit had gained was trembling for its weakness, +fear for its cowardice, shame for its shame.</p> + +<p>'Where shall he go?'</p> + +<p>'Christian,' said Lois, 'where will you go?'</p> + +<p>He wondered what she said. Open talk +had passed over him unregarded; he had lost +the knack of understanding except he tried +hard.</p> + +<p>Giles sighed. 'Far, indeed, far; for where is +our boy not known, the best fisher for his +years, the best at sail and oar, the strongest +proved in the pick of the coast. Far, indeed, +for him not to be known.'</p> + +<p>That Christian understood, for he broke +silence hoarsely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Say out: far indeed for him not to be +known as beaten for a thief, drowned like a +dog.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda's hand slipped to his, unseen; she +drew it softly against her lips. He did not +heed.</p> + +<p>'My boy,' said Lois, 'what will you do?'</p> + +<p>'Mother, do you bid me go?'</p> + +<p>His hot brain knew of a grand enclosure +where satisfying coolness and peace and splendid +shade reigned, for no man's solace and award.</p> + +<p>'You bid me go?'</p> + +<p>'Dare you stay?' she said, 'dare I bid you?'</p> + +<p>His voice shook. 'What sort—of killing?' +he asked, daunted now.</p> + +<p>Giles swore softly after the manner of his +kind, under danger of tears.</p> + +<p>'Where are your senses, lad? Great storms +can't last. This is over, his Reverence will tell +you that. Not twice in a lifetime, I guess, can +the devil brew the like.'</p> + +<p>'You bid me go?'</p> + +<p>'Not now, not yet,' said Lois tremulously; +'but sin and shame were to keep you to a trial +beyond your strength.'</p> + +<p>He said quite brokenly: 'You are looking +for a broken promise.'</p> + +<p>'Not that. Only—only, we know that 'twould<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +be easier for you to face stranger folk, and +hard though it be to let you go, far harder +were it for you to stay, and we cannot ask it.'</p> + +<p>Christian's head sank: they all knew that he +had not strength nor courage to stand upright +under a disgraced life; he need but acquiesce +for the last spark of self-respect to be extinct.</p> + +<p>It was long before he lifted his head; Rhoda +only was there. He asked after Lois. She +had gone with his Reverence up towards the +church. He asked after Giles. He had gone +down to the quay to his work of refitting the +old boat.</p> + +<p>Tears stung his brain for the wicked destruction +of his own boat, that like a living creature +he had loved, and had not saved, and could not +avenge.</p> + +<p>Rhoda left him but for a moment; passing +out to the linhay, the door she left ajar.</p> + +<p>Christian stood up, touched his brow once or +twice with uncertain fingers, drew sharp breath, +crossed himself, and stept out into the world.</p> + +<p>He reeled in the sunlight. Its enmity struck +at him, and he put up his hands against an +unknown trouble, for in through his eyes into +his brain flew strange little white birds and +nested there and were not still.</p> + +<p>He alone stood upright in the midst of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +rocking world; under his feet walked the path, +the road, the street, bringing up an ambush of +eyes, and grey birds and fire.</p> + +<p>In the street his coming started a scare. +Only yesterday said he was long a-dying, so +that now women fell back afraid of a ghost, for +with every trace of sunburn gone his face was +of a whiteness astonishing in the south. But +some harder men cursed at the stubborn devil +in the boy, that kept him alive out of all +reckoning, and unsubdued. Face to face none +met him till the corner where the street beached +and the quay branched. There stood an idle +group that suddenly gave before a reeling, +haggard embodiment of hatred.</p> + +<p>These very eyes he knew again, and the one +memory within them legible; hot, red-hot, +they burned him. Red birds and black flew in +and sounded shrill, and beak and claw tore at a +little nook where a promise lay shrunk and +small. Again he crossed himself, and passed +on, till none stood between him and the +sea.</p> + +<p>Hot, smooth sand stretched curving round +the bay with the hard, grey quay lying callous +upon it; tall masts peered, windows gleamed +and glared, and behind him lay a lifetime of +steep street. But strong salt gusts spoke to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +him from the blessed, lonely sea. The tide was +leaping in fast and white; short waves crested +and glittered over the expanse of moving blue.</p> + +<p>Rhoda caught his sleeve and stood beside +him panting and trembling, amazed at his +strength and temerity.</p> + +<p>Just set afloat by the tide, the old boat +rocked against the quay; but Giles was pottering +afar, and did not see, and could not +hear. The weak pair made forward with one +consent, till at the boat Christian halted and +stept down.</p> + +<p>Along the quay came lounging hateful +curiosity; Philip was there, with half a score +more. Rhoda faced round bravely; her fear +was overborne by intense indignation; she +was half a child still, loyal, reckless, and +wild to parade before one and all her high +regard for the victim of their brutal outrage: +her esteem, her honour, her love. From +the quay above she called to Christian, knelt, +reached across, took him by the neck, and +kissed him there for all the world to see. +Afterwards she knew that all the child in +her died on the kiss and left her full +woman.</p> + +<p>She kissed him first, and then she saw into +his eyes: Christian was mad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>In terror she sprang up, looking for help +vainly and too late. Giles was far off, slow of +hearing, slow of foot; and the madman was +casting off, and the boat began to rock away. +In desperation she leapt across the widening +interspace, and fell headlong and bruised beside +him. The boat slanted off and went rollicking +over the tumbled waves. All his mad mind +and his gathered strength were given to hoist +the sail.</p> + +<p>Far back had the quay floated when the +desperate girl rose. Giles was discernable +making vehement gestures of recall. She stood +up and answered with imploring hands, and +with useless cries too. Christian never heeded. +Then she even tried her strength against him, +but at that the mad eyes turned so fierce and +dangerous that she shrank away as though he +had struck her.</p> + +<p>None of the coral fleet was out on the +rising wind and sea, and stray sails were standing +in; yet Christian, frantically blind, was +making for his old station on the fishing +shoals. The old boat went eagerly over the +waves under a large allowance of sail; the +swift furrow of her keel vanished under +charging crests. Low sank the shore, the +dark verdure of it faded, the white houses<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +of it dimmed. The strong, terrible sea was +feeling his strength as a god when his pulses +stir him to play.</p> + +<p>Overhead a sea-gull dipped and sailed; it +swooped low with a wild note. Christian +looked up and laughed aloud. In an instant +the boat lay for the west, and leaped and +quivered with new speed.</p> + +<p>Scudding for harbourage, under a corner of +sail, two stout luggers passed; and the men, +watching their mad course, waved to warn, and +shouted unheard. Then Rhoda stood up and +signalled and screamed for help. She thought +that the wind carried her cry, for both boats +put about and headed towards them. Hope +rose: two well-manned boats were in pursuit. +Terror rose: in an instant Christian, to a +perilous measure of sail added more, and the +boat, like a maddened, desperate thing, went +hurling, bucking, smashing, over the waves, +against the waves, through the waves.</p> + +<p>Rhoda shut her eyes and tried to pray, that +when the quivering, groaning planks should +part or sink, and drop her out of life, her soul +should stand at its seemliest in her Maker's +sight. But the horrible lurches abating, again +she looked. Pursuit was abandoned, soon +proved vain to men who had lives of value and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +a cargo of weight: they had fallen back and +were standing away.</p> + +<p>The sun blazed on his downward stoop, +with a muster of clouds rolling to overtake +him before he could touch the edge of the +world. In due time full storm would come +as surely as would the night.</p> + +<p>Christian over the gunwale stared down. +He muttered to himself; whenever a white +sea-bird swooped near he looked up and laughed +again. Wild and eager, his glance turned ever +to the westward sea, and never looked he to +the sky above with its threat of storm, and +naught cared he for the peril of death sweeping +up with every wave.</p> + +<p>A dark coast-line came forward, that Rhoda +knew for the ominous place that had overshadowed +Christian's life. The Isle Sinister +rose up, a blot in the midst of lines of steady +black and leaping white.</p> + +<p>Over to the low sun the clouds reached, and +half the sky grew splendid with ranges of +burnished copper, and under it the waves +leaped into furious gold. Rhoda's courage +broke for the going down of her last sun; she +wept and prayed in miserable despair for the +life, fresh and young, and good to live, that +Christian was wantonly casting away with his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +own. No hope dare live with night and +storm joining hands, and madness driving on +the cruelest coast known.</p> + +<p>On they drove abreast of the Isle Sinister.</p> + +<p>He clung swaying to the tiller, with groaning +breath, gaping with a wide smile and +ravenous looks fixed intently. A terror of +worse than death swept upon Rhoda. She fell +on her knees and prayed, shrieking: 'Good +Lord deliver us!'</p> + +<p>Christian looked at her; for the only time +with definite regard, he turned a strange dazed +look to her.</p> + +<p>A violent shock flung her forward; the +dash of a wave took her breath; the boat +lurched aslant, belaboured by wave on wave, +too suddenly headed for the open sea. The +tiller broke from his nerveless hands, and like +a log he fell.</p> + +<p>Rhoda's memory held after no record of +what her body did then, till she had Christian's +head on her knee. Had she mastered the great +peril of the sail? had she fastened the rudder +for drifting, and baled? she whose knowledge +and strength were so scanty? Her hands +assured her of what her mind could not: they +were chafed by their frantic hurry over cordage.</p> + +<p>She felt that Christian lived; yet nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +could she do for him, but hold him in her +arms, giving her body for a pillow, till so +they should presently go down together, and +both be safely dead.</p> + +<p>The buoy-bells jangled to windward, to +leeward. Then spoke the blessed voices of +the three Saints, and a light showed, a single +murky star in a great cave of blackness, +that leaned across the zenith to close round +the pallid west. Ah, not here, not here in +the evil place! She had rather they drown in +the open.</p> + +<p>The weak, desolate girl was yet clinging +desperately to the barest chance of life. She +laid her burden down; with awkward, aching +hands she ventured to get out a corner of +sail; and she tried to steer, but it was only +by mercy of a flaw of wind that she held +off and went blindly reeling away from the +fatal surf. As night came on fully the +light and the voice of the House Monitory +passed away, and the buoy-bells, and the +roar of breakers, and the heavy black of +the coast. Past the Land's End in the +free currents of open sea, she let the boat +drive.</p> + +<p>Crouching down again, she took up the +dear weight to give what shelter she could,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +and to gain for herself some, for great blasts +drove hard, and furious gusts of rain came +scourging. Through the great loneliness of +the dark they went, helpless, driving on to the +heart of the night, the strength of the waves +still mounting, and the fierceness of the wind; +the long gathering storm, still half restrained, +to outleap in full hurricane about the time of +midnight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<p>All night Lois and Giles were praying in +anguish of grief for their children of adoption, +even when hope was beaten out by the heavy-handed +storm. For three days and nights the +seas were sailless, though the hulks of two +wrecks were spied drifting; and after, still they +ran so high, that a fifth day dawned before a +lugger beat in aside her course on a kindly +errand. Then up the street leapt news to the +desolate pair: how Rhoda and Christian lived; +how their boat had been run down in the night, +and themselves snatched gallantly from death; +how they had been put ashore at the first port +a mastless ship could win, and there received +by the pity of strangers; and how all the +while Christian lay raving and dying, and by +now must be dead.</p> + +<p>But to hope reborn this last was unbelievable. +Lois said she should find him alive and to live, +since Heaven had twice willed him to escape +the jaws of death. And her heart of confidence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +she kept for more than two weary days of +difficulty and delay. But when she reached +his bed her hope wavered; she saw a shorn +head, and a face blanched and bloodless like +bone, fallen out of a shape she knew into +strange hollows, with eyes showing but a glassy +strip, and grey, breathless lips. 'To-night,' +said Rhoda.</p> + +<p>Breathless also through the night they +watched till came the first shiver of dawn. +Then his eyelids rose; he looked with recognition +at Lois, and moved a hand towards hers; and +with a quiet sigh his eyes closed, not for death, +but for blessed, feverless, breathing sleep.</p> + +<p>The one who wept then was Lois, and +Rhoda clasped her in a passionate embrace of +comfort, and herself shed no tear.</p> + +<p>The child had deserted Rhoda for ever, as +the boy Christian. She knew it: she had +kissed her childhood dead on his lips, and now +past any recall it had been buried, and lay deep +under such a weight of sorrow as fate can hew +only for a woman full. No tear she shed, no +word she said, and she ordered her face to be +serene.</p> + +<p>She had a word for Lois not at first to be +understood. 'God has been good to heal,' +she would say; but the whole truth did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +declare till Lois, regarding the future again, had +sighed: 'Where shall he go?' 'Home,' said +Rhoda. Lois shook her head sadly: 'He +could not bear it.' The girl, with arms round +her neck and a hid face, whispered again: +'God has been good to heal—I think so—do +you not know it yet?'</p> + +<p>So a day came when a wasted shadow of the +old Christian was borne along the quay and up +the street, while men and women stept out to +observe. Their eyes he met with placid recognition, +clear of any disquiet.</p> + +<p>The devil had gone out of the fellow at +last, they said, when he could not lift a hand +for injury, nor gloom a resentful look. And +so hard doings were justified; and none intolerant +could begrudge him the life he had +brought away, even before a guess began that +he had not brought away his full wits.</p> + +<p>Out in the porch he would come to bask in +the sun for hours with animal content. Out +to the gate he would come, going weakly to +and fro as he was bid. But Giles was surly to +men, and to women Lois was iron cold, and +Rhoda had deft ways of insult to repulse unwelcome +intrusion; and so for a little while +those three guarded him and kept close the +secret of his ruin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then one at an unguarded moment won in, +and spied, and carried her report of his mild, +his brute-mild gaze, and his slow labour of +speech: it was the mother of Philip. Rhoda +found a token of her left beside Christian, a +well-intended, small peace-offering, in a cheese +of her sole make.</p> + +<p>'Who brought this?' she asked; and he +told.</p> + +<p>'She offered it—to you?'</p> + +<p>'To us,' he returned quietly.</p> + +<p>'And you took it—thanked her and took it?'</p> + +<p>He looked up and studied her face for enlightenment.</p> + +<p>'The mother was not here.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda's passion surged over. 'How dared +she, how dared she!' she stormed, and seized +on the poor gift, cast it down, stamped it into +the sandy path, and spurned it over the sweet +herbs into the sluggy kail beyond.</p> + +<p>Like a child, chidden for some uncomprehended +fault, he looked at her, distressed at +her condemnation, anxious to atone, wondering +if his senses told him true. Her anger failing +under an agony of pity and remorse, from the +unendurable pain of his look she fled to hide +her passionate weeping. When Lois came out +to Christian he was deeply asleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>Soon he carried into the street his brute-mild +gaze, and his slow labour of speech. And no +thumb turned against him. For all who chose +to peer in on his blank mind found how shame +and rancour could take no root in a void of +memory. He met every face with an even +countenance, showing no recall of a debt to any.</p> + +<p>In a very literal sense it was now said that +the devil had gone out of him. Willing belief +held that he had been actually possessed, and +delivered only when a right instinct of severity +had spoiled him for habitation. Some compunction +showed over the mooted point whether +the pitiful lasting flaw had not rather come of +the last spite of an evicted devil, than of the +drastic measures of exasperated men.</p> + +<p>In nowise did Christian's reason now work +amiss, though it was slow and heavy; nor +had his memory lost all its store, nor quite its +power to store. Of earlier days his remembrance +was clear and complete though a little +unready, but of passing hours some only did +not float clean out of mind to be forgotten. +This was a deficiency that mended by degrees, +and in time bid fair to pass. Where the break +began, none who loved him ventured to discover. +Once when, as shall be told, Giles +incautiously touched, Christian turned a dazed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +painful face, and grew white and whiter, and +presently laid his head down on his arms and +slept deeply. In those days frequent slumbers +fell, and for the most part memory was blurred +behind them.</p> + +<p>Lois in her heart sometimes had a secret +doubt that oblivion had not entirely satisfied +him. His reason seemed too serviceable to lie +down without an effort; and it was hard to +imagine how it could account for certain scars +that his body would carry to the grave; or +account for the loss of two boats—the old +drudge and his own murdered Beloved. Yet +when in his presence they held anxious debate +on the means to a new boat, he listened and +made no comment.</p> + +<p>The poor wronged household was hardly +set. Restitution was unlooked for, and not to +be enforced, for woe betide any who against +the tyranny of the fishers' law invoked higher +powers and another code. Though now the +alien was tolerated under a milder estimate, an +outcast he remained, and none were so hardy as +to offer fellowship with him and his. The cost +of a boat was more than Giles could contrive +on his own poor securities, and none could he +find to share for profit or risk in any concern +that Christian would be handling. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +only on his Reverence offering surety for instalments +that the dread of ruin and exile for +one and all passed them by, and means to a +livelihood were obtained.</p> + +<p>Together, as in the long past days when +Christian was yet a child, and Giles was still +hale, the old man and the young returned to +daily toil on the coral shoals. Giles was the +better man of the two at the first, for necessity +had admitted of no delay; but as the younger +gained in strength the elder lost; by the +month's end his feeble stock of strength, overdrawn, +failed suddenly, not enough remaining +for him to potter about the quay as before. In +months succeeding, his goings came to be +straitened, first to the garden, then to the +house, then to one seat, one bed. Before the +year's end it was to be to the straitest lodging +of all—green turfed.</p> + +<p>Alone, quite alone again, with sea and sky +whispering together round him, and no sail +near, well might those who loved Christian +pray for him hourly.</p> + +<p>His first return was so late that terrors beset +all three. The two women were on the quay +when his boat glided in under dusk, and up he +stept with a load. The hearts of both were +beating thick for dread of a rich load that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +would blast him afresh, for thus in old days +had he glided in at dusk.</p> + +<p>But what he bore was only his nets, which he +dropped before them. He stood silent and +downcast. They saw that one of the cross-beams +was broken; they saw that the meshes +were torn incredibly.</p> + +<p>They saw that he was waiting in dumb distress +to be told by them if he were to blame. +Ah, dear aching hearts! not a word, not a look +was there to weigh on him in his disappointment. +Rhoda stripped off the netting and +carried it home, with a gay boast of proving her +proficiency, for she had learned net-making from +Christian in his idle days of weakness. Half +the next day she sat mending, and was proud +of her finished task, expecting some reward of +praise. But it never came. The fresh netting +he had taken he brought back torn hideously, +so that dismay fell.</p> + +<p>Christian and Giles together had met only +poor luck, but here came a stroke of so deliberate +an aim that the word misfortune seemed +indifferent to describe it.</p> + +<p>And this was but the beginning of a long +course; again and again Christian returned +with spoiled nets; and, even on better days, +few there were when his takings were not conspicuously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +poor in amount and quality. Such +loss was the graver since an instalment was due +at the season's close, and except the dawning +autumn brought fair success, sore straits would +come with the winter.</p> + +<p>Rhoda proved good for bread-winning. +Before, she had practised lace-making, taught +her at the convent school, and now she turned +to it with all her energy. Early and late found +her bending over her pillow. No more net-mending +for her: for the sake of unroughened +hands she had to leave that to Christian and +the elders. Yet her work was but poorly paid, +and the sale uncertain.</p> + +<p>As autumn came in, Christian still gained in +physical strength up to near his old level; but +Giles declined slowly, Lois grew thin and +worn, and Rhoda was losing something of her +bloom.</p> + +<p>The heart of the old man yearned over the +girl, and he knew that his time was but brief. +For hours he would sit and watch, fondly and +sadly, her dear bent head and her hands playing +over her pillow in a patch of light under the +pinned-back blind. At last he told Christian +his heart, even Christian.</p> + +<p>'Take care of my little maid, lad.'</p> + +<p>He answered 'Ay,' stupidly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>'For I reckon I may not be here long to +care for her myself.'</p> + +<p>That was all he said at first, but that he +would say often for some days, till he was sure +that Christian had taken the sense in full, and +had failed to quite disbelieve his foreboding.</p> + +<p>'Before I lie down in the dark, I would like +main to hear you take oath on it, lad.'</p> + +<p>'I take oaths never,' said Christian mechanically.</p> + +<p>'Right, right! save in this wise: before +God's altar with ring and blessing.'</p> + +<p>Christian examined his face long to be sure +of understanding; then he said, 'No.'</p> + +<p>Giles was disappointed, but spite of the +absolute tone he would not take a negative.</p> + +<p>'When I am gone to lie yonder east and +west, and when some day the wife shall come +too to bed with me, how will you take care of +my little maid? her and her good name?'</p> + +<p>'Oh, God help us!'</p> + +<p>'Look you to it, for I doubt she, dear heart, +cares for you—now—more than for her mere +good name.'</p> + +<p>'How can she!' he muttered.</p> + +<p>Said Giles hazardously: 'Once I knew of a +girl such as Rhoda; as shy and proud and +upright; and a lad she liked,—a lad, say, such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +as you, Christian, that she liked in her heart +more than he guessed. Until he got shamefully +mistook, miscalled, mishandled, when she +up and kissed him at open noon in the face of +all. And then, I mind, at need she followed +him over seas, and nought did her good heart +think on ill tongues. There is Rhoda all over.'</p> + +<p>He watched askance to see what the flawed +wits could do, and repented of his venture; +for it was then Christian so paled and presently +so slept.</p> + +<p>But Giles tried again.</p> + +<p>'Do you mind you of the day of Rhoda's +coming? Well, what think you had I at heart +then? You never had a guess? You guess +now.'</p> + +<p>Christian said, 'I will not.'</p> + +<p>'Ah! lad, you do. And to me it looked so +right and fit and just. That the wife might +gainsay, I allowed; but not you. No; and +you will not when I tell you all.</p> + +<p>'Christian, I do not feel that I have left in +me another spring, so while I have the voice I +must speak out, and I may not let you be.</p> + +<p>'You know of Rhoda's birth: born she was +on the same night as our child. As for me, I +could not look upon the one innocent but +thought on the other would rise, and on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +pitiful difference there was. Somehow, the wife +regarded it as the child of its father only, I +think always, till Rhoda stood before her, the +very image of her mother. And with me 'twas +just the other way about; and I was main fond +of the poor young mother; a sweet, gentle +creature she was—a quiet dove, not a brave +hawk like little Rhoda. I wished the little +thing could have shared with ours heart and +home; but that the wife could not have abided, +the man being amongst us too. But I went +and managed so that none can cast up on +Rhoda as a pauper foundling.</p> + +<p>'Lad, as I would like you to think well +of me when I am gone, God knows I can +ill afford to have more than is due stand +against me; so look you, lad, I was not such +a wastrel as you had cause for thinking. I +don't deny what may have been in old days +before, but for a good seventeen year when I +have gone off for a fling now and then, Rhoda +has been the better for it, not I the worse. It +has been hard on the wife, and I own I have +done a deal of cheating by her and by you too, +and have stinted you unfairly. There, there, +hold your tongue, and let me start fair again.</p> + +<p>'After our child was taken from us, and the +poor wife took on so for our blame, it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +borne in on me that the rightest amending was +not far to seek; and I put it to her at last. +But I spoke too soon, when her hurts were +quick and raw, and she could not bear it. She +was crazy-like then, and I put my notion by +for a bit. You see, it was like this: I reckoned +the fatal misdoing was unchristian rancour +against the father, and care for his deserted +child should best express contrition. But the +wife couldn't look that way—and she got from +the Book awful things to say against the +wicked man and his children; and all she +repented on was her wrong ways, in neglect of +right worship to affront the man; and I think +in her heart she cursed him more bitter than +ever. A penance it would have been to her to +do violence to her griefs and indignations by +taking up the child; but it would have righted +her as nothing else could, and that I knew, and +I looked to bring her to it yet. For me, well, +I was on other ground before then, and more +than once Rhoda's baby hand had closed upon +my finger, ay, upon my heart, though then +she was not like my own. And that in a way +made me slack to drive against the grain, +when with me the point ran smooth and +sweet.</p> + +<p>'Now, Christian, what came next?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old man had been very slow with +his tale, watching his listener intently all the +while to be sure he heeded and understood. +Christian shook his head, but there was very +sensible apprehension on his face as he looked +to Giles.</p> + +<p>'You came, Christian.</p> + +<p>'You took the place in heart and home +that might have come to be little Rhoda's, as +I hoped.</p> + +<p>'You came from the sea that had taken our +own, and so the wife said it was the hand of +God. I thought the hand of God pointed +otherwise. Christian, what say you?'</p> + +<p>He could answer nothing: Giles waited, but +he could not.</p> + +<p>'You will take care of my little maid as I +want?'</p> + +<p>'I cannot! ah, I cannot!'</p> + +<p>'All these years Rhoda has wanted a home +as I think because of you; and because of you +I could not hope for the wife's heart to open +to her.'</p> + +<p>'She should hate me! you should!' said +Christian. His face was scared.</p> + +<p>'You can make ample amends—oh! ample; +and Rhoda will count the wants of her youth +blessed that shall lay the rest of her days to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +your keeping. She will—Christian, are you so +blind?—she will.</p> + +<p>'Ah, dear lad! I got so well contented that +the wife had had her way and had taken +you, when I saw what the just outcome should +be; and saw her shaping in the dark towards +the happy lot of the sweet little slip she +ignored. Long back it began, when you were +but a little chap. Years before you set eyes +on her, Rhoda had heard of you.</p> + +<p>'In the end I could fit out no plan for you +to light on her; and a grubby suitor was bargaining +for her, so I had to make a risky cast. +She was to enter as a passing stranger I had +asked to rest. The wife fell on her neck, +before a word. Well, well, what poor fools +we had both been!</p> + +<p>'Christian, why do you say No?'</p> + +<p>'I wish her better.'</p> + +<p>'But she loves you! I swear she loves you! +And I, O good Lord! I have done my best to +set her affections on you. How shall I lie still +in the grave while her dear heart is moaning +for its hurt, and 'tis I that have wrought it.'</p> + +<p>To a scrupulous nature the words of Giles +brought cruel distress. Christian's eyes took +to following Rhoda, though never a word of +wooing went to her. In the end he spoke.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Dear Rhoda,' he said, and stopped; but +instantly she looked up startled. His eyes were +on the ground.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda, I love you dearly. Will you be my +wife?'</p> + +<p>She grew white as death, and stayed stone-still, +breathless. Then he looked at her, stood +up, and repeated resolutely: 'Rhoda, dearest, +will you be my wife?'</p> + +<p>She rose to confront him, and brought out +her answer:</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>He stared at her a moment in stupid bewilderment.</p> + +<p>'You will not be my wife?' he said.</p> + +<p>She put out all her strength to make the +word clear and absolute, and repeated: 'No.'</p> + +<p>His face grew radiant; he caught her in his +arms suddenly and kissed her, once, twice.</p> + +<p>'O my sister!' he cried, 'my dear +sister!'</p> + +<p>She did not blush under his kisses: she shut +her eyes and held her breath when his eager +embrace caught her out of resistance. But +when it slackened she thrust him back with all +her might, broke free, and with a low cry fled +away to find solitude, where she might sob and +sob, and wrestle out her agony, and tear her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +heart with a name—that strange name, that +woman's name, 'Diadyomene.'</p> + +<p>She had his secret, she only, though it was +nought but a name and some love titles and +passionate entreaties that his ravings had given +into her safe keeping.</p> + +<p>On the morrow Christian's boat lay idle by +the quay. Before dawn moved he had gone.</p> + +<p>'I think—I think you need not fear for +him,' said Rhoda, when the day closed without +him. 'I think he may be back to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'You know what he is about—where he has +gone, child?'</p> + +<p>First she said 'Yes,' and then she said 'No.'</p> + +<p>In the dusk she crept up to Giles. Against +his breast she broke into pitiful weeping.</p> + +<p>'Forgive me! forgive me! I said "No" to +him.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<p>With its splendour and peace unalterable, the +great sanctuary enclosed them.</p> + +<p>Face to face they stood, shattered life and lost +soul. Diadyomene tried to smile, but her lips +trembled; she tried to greet him with the old +name Diadyomenos, but it fell imperfect. And +his grey eyes addressed her too forcibly to be +named. What was in them and his face to +make her afraid? eyes and face of a lover foredoing +speech.</p> + +<p>The eager, happy trouble of the boy she had +beguiled flushed out no more; nay, but he +paled; earnest, sad, indomitable, the man +demanded of her answering integrity. Uncomprehended, +the mystery of pain in embodied +power stood confronting the magic of the sea, +and she quailed.</p> + +<p>'Agonistes, Agonistes!' she panted, 'now I +find your name: it is Agonistes!'</p> + +<p>But while he did not answer, her old light +came to her for reading the tense inquiry +of his eyes. Did they demand acknowledgment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +of her defeat and his supremacy? No, +she would not own that; he should not know.</p> + +<p>'And have you feared to keep what you got +of the sea? And have you flung it away, as I +counselled when last you beheld me?'</p> + +<p>The strong, haggard face never altered for +contest. He asked slowly:</p> + +<p>'Was it a vision of Diadyomene that rose +up to the waves through the shadow of a fisher's +boat?'</p> + +<p>With an effort she set her eyes at his +defiantly.</p> + +<p>'It was not I. I? For what cause?'</p> + +<p>'He called you.'</p> + +<p>'I come for no man's call.'</p> + +<p>Against her will her eyes fell.</p> + +<p>'Look at me, Diadyomene; for an evil dream +haunts me, and your eyes have got it hid.'</p> + +<p>'An evil dream!'</p> + +<p>She laughed, but her breath came quick as +again their looks encountered.</p> + +<p>What she met in the steadfast grey eyes +brought terror gathering to her own. She +shuddered and covered her face.</p> + +<p>'An evil dream haunts <i>me</i>, and <i>your</i> eyes +have got it hid.'</p> + +<p>He watched, dazed, and muttered: 'You—you.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What is it?—what is it?' she cried. 'Why +have you brought it with you out of season? +It is like an air that I cannot breathe. Take +it away!'</p> + +<p>Never before had she shown so human a +weakness, nor had she ever shown so womanly +fair. Her clear eyes dilated, her whole face +quivered, and for an instant a shadow of vague +wistfulness crossed her fear. Her lover's heart +beat free of dreams, for a passion of tenderness +responded to her need.</p> + +<p>'Ah, Diadyomene, no! Can you so dream +it, when, to keep all evil from you, I would, +God willing, enter hell?'</p> + +<p>'May be,' she whispered, 'it is what you call +hell I enter, every year once, when my dream +comes.'</p> + +<p>Appalled he heard. 'You shall not, Diadyomene, +you shall not! Come to me, call me, +and what heart of man can brave, by my soul I +will, and keep you safe.'</p> + +<p>She found his eyes again, within them only +love, and she rallied.</p> + +<p>'It is only a dream,' she said. 'And yet to +escape it I would give up many choice moments +of glorious sea life.'</p> + +<p>She eyed him hard, and clenched her hands. +'I would give up,' she said, 'the strongest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +desire my heart now holds; ay, in the dear +moment of its fulfilment, I would give up even +that, if so a certain night of the year might +pass ever dreamless and untroubled.'</p> + +<p>'So would not I! though I think my dream +cannot be less terrible than yours; though I +know my desire cannot be less dear. Diadyomene, +what is the desire of your heart?'</p> + +<p>She would not say; and she meant with her +downcast, shy eyes to mislead him. But in +vain: too humble was he to presume.</p> + +<p>'Diadyomene, what is your dream?'</p> + +<p>'I cannot tell,' she said, 'for it passes so +that my brain holds but an echo of it, and my +heart dread. And what remains of it cannot +be told, for words are too poor and feeble to +express it.'</p> + +<p>He saw her thinking, sighing, and shuddering.</p> + +<p>'How near is its coming?' he asked, and +but half heeding she told, counting by the +terms of the moon.</p> + +<p>'Agonistes, how I know not, my deep, +strong love of the sea grows somewhat faint +when the hour draws near to dream; and the +land, the poor, hard, unsatisfying land, grows +some degrees dearer. Ah! but I loathe it after, +when my life again beats strong and true with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +the pulse of the deep. Keep you far from me +then, lest I hate you—yes, even you—hate you +to death.'</p> + +<p>'Rather bid me here, to watch out the night +with you.'</p> + +<p>'I forbid it!' she said, suddenly fierce and +wary. 'Take heed! Wilful, deliberate trespass +against my express will shall find no pity, +no pardon.'</p> + +<p>Quick she saw that, intemperate, she had +startled her prey; therefore she amended, +smiling sadly.</p> + +<p>'See you how those diverse tides sway me +even now. Agonistes, were you not of the +land—did you share the sea—then may be—ah, +ah——</p> + +<p>'I will try to tell you. An awful sense of +desolation falls, for I feel dry earth underfoot, +and thin air, and I hear the sea moaning for +me, but turn where I will I cannot see nor +reach it: it lies beyond a lost path, and the +glories, blisses, and strengths it gives me +wither and die. And then horrors of the land +close round me.</p> + +<p>'What are they? I know not; they whirl +past me so that their speed conceals them; yet, +as streaks, are they hideous and ghastly. And +I hear fearful sounds of speech, but not one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +distinct, articulate word. And in my dream I +know that if any one stays, stands, confronts +me, to be seen fully in the eyes and heard out +clear from the din, all my joy of the sea would +lie dead for ever, and the very way back would +vanish.'</p> + +<p>Christian had his own incomparable vision +of the magic of the sea to oppose and ponder.</p> + +<p>'Ah! you cannot comprehend, for I tell of +it by way of the senses, and they are without, +but this is within: in my veins, my breath, my +fibres of life. It is I—me.'</p> + +<p>'I can, ah! I can.'</p> + +<p>'Yet the dear heart of the sea holds me fast +through all; with imperious kindness it seizes +my will when my love grows slackest, and +draws me out of the shallows; and down, and +down I drift, like weed.'</p> + +<p>'Diadyomene, have you never defied your +fear, and kept from sleep, and kept from the +sea?'</p> + +<p>Her voice sank. 'If I did—my dream +might—come true.</p> + +<p>'Agonistes, what I saw in your eyes was—I +doubted—my dream—coming true.</p> + +<p>'No; I will not look again.'</p> + +<p>Christian's voice was as low and shaken as +hers. 'What was there?' he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + +<p>Again and again she gathered her breath for +speech, yet at last was scarce audible.</p> + +<p>'A horror—a living human body—tortured +with fire and scourge—flayed.'</p> + +<p>She lifted one glance and took the imprint +of a strange tranced face, bloodless as death, +void of speculation. Prone she sank to the +edge of the altar rock, for such passions leapt +up and grappled in desperate conflict as dissolved +her strength under exquisite throes.</p> + +<p>She never raised her head, till, after long +wrestle, malice—strong, full-grown malice—recovered +and stood up triumphant over all. +And not one word all that while had come +from her lover.</p> + +<p>There lay he, his bright head low within +reach of her hand. His tranquil ease, his quiet +breath, flouted her before she saw that his eyes +were closed in real sleep. His eyes were closed.</p> + +<p>She sprang up, stung, willing to kill; her +wicked heart laughed, gratified then with the +doings of men.</p> + +<p>How grand the creature lay!</p> + +<p>She stood to feast her eyes on the doomed +body. The placid composure of the sleeper, +of serene countenance, of slack limbs, touched +her as excellent comedy. But it exasperated +her also to the verge of a shrieking finish.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>She ached with a savage thirst in all her +members; feet and hands and lips parched in +imperious desires to trample, to smite, to bite +her resentful hatred into the piece of flesh that +mocked her control. The quiet sway of life +within his ribs provoked her, with each slow +breath he drew, to rend it from him.</p> + +<p>She turned away hastily from temptation to +so meagre a revenge; for his spirit must first +be crushed and broken and rent, justly to +compensate for insolent offence. 'He cannot +escape, for his heart is in my hand already,' +she said.</p> + +<p>Ripples of jasper and beryl closed over her +swift descent and shimmered to smooth. Lone +in these splendid fittings for sepulture lay +recumbent a make of earth meet to accomplish +its void destiny.</p> + +<p>Ripples of jasper and beryl broke from her +slow ascent as a reflex current swept her +back.</p> + +<p>The mask of sleep lay over his face; though +she peered intent, it would yield nothing, +nothing. A want and a dread that struggled +together for birth troubled the cold sea nature. +Strong they thrust towards the light, as her +mind recalled the intolerable speech of his eyes +and his altered face. So near she bent that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +warmth of his breath reached her lips. She +shrank back, quivering, and crouched, rocked +with passionate sighs.</p> + +<p>'But I hate, I hate!' she moaned; for a +contrary impulse bade her lay upon his breast +her hand, and on his lips hers, and dare +all her asking from his eyes. A disloyal hand +went out and hovered over his heart. She +plucked it back, aware of a desperate peril, +vague, awful, alluring to destruction, like a +precipice yawning under night.</p> + +<p>His hair was yellow-brown, matching the +mellow sands of the under-sea; it ran into +crisp waves, and over the brow curved up to +crest like a breaker that stayed unbroken. No +such hair did the sea grow—no hair, no head, +that often her hand had so wanted to handle; +ay, graciously—at first—to hold the crispness, +to break the crest; and ever because she dared +not did fierceness for tearing arise. So slight +an inclination, ungratified, extended to vast +dimensions, and possessed her entire. And +she called it hate. How long, how long, she +complained, shall I bear with this thirst? Yet +if long, as long shall the quenching be. He +shall but abandon his soul, and no doubt shall +restrain me from touching as I will.</p> + +<p>She covered her face from the light of day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +for she contemplated an amazement to nature: +deadly hate enfolded in the arms of strong +love.</p> + +<p>When the tide brimmed up and kissed him +awake, Diadyomene was away.</p> + +<p>Another manner of Diadyomene vexed her +lover's next coming: she was mockery incarnate, +and unkind; for she would not condescend to +his limitations, nor forsake a golden spongy +nest two fathoms and more below breath. +Yet her laughter and her eyes summoned him +down, and he, poor fool, displayed before her +derision his deficiency, slow to learn that untiring +submission to humiliation would win no +gracious reward at last. And the young witch +was as slow to learn that no exasperation she +could contrive would sting him into amorous +close for mastery.</p> + +<p>Christian was no tempered saint. Diadyomene +gained a barren, bitter victory, for he +fled.</p> + +<p>At sundown a monitress, mounting the night +tower, by a loophole of the stair looking down +on the great rock saints, spied a figure kneeling +devoutly. When the moon rose late the same +kept vigil still. In the wan of dawn the same, +overtaken by sleep, lay low against the feet of +St. Margaret.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>Though Christian slept, he heard the deep +bell voices of the three. Articulate they grew, +and entered the human soul with reproof and +exhortation and promise. He woke, and +intrepid rose to face the unruly clamours of +nature, for the sake of the cast soul of that +most beautiful body, Diadyomene.</p> + +<p>Vain was the encounter and the passionate +spiritual wooing. Diadyomene would not hear, +at heart fiercely jealous because no such ardent +entreaty had all her beauty and charms ever +evoked. She was angered when he would not +take dismissal.</p> + +<p>'Never, never,' she said, 'has any creature +of the sea thwarted me so and lived; and you, +you dare! Hear now. There, and there, and +there, stand yet your silly inscriptions. Cancel +them, for earnest that never again shall mention +of those monstrous impossible three trouble my +ear.'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'Hear yet. Cancel them, and here, perpetual +and irrevocable, shall right of freedom +be yours, and welcome. Leave them intact, +and I swear you shall not get hence scatheless.'</p> + +<p>'Can you mean this, Diadyomene?'</p> + +<p>'Ah, so! because I relented once, you presume.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +See, and if those three can deliver you +whole, them will I worship with you.'</p> + +<p>And it came to pass that Christian carried +home the best member that he possessed broken, +for fulfilment of Diadyomene's promise.</p> + +<p>He doubted she had divined a profane +desire, and covertly rewarded it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<p>One there was who watched Christian with +curious intentness, who, when the plight of the +Alien staled on general interest, was singular +by persistent advances: his old rival, Philip. +Elder by two years, the tyrant of Christian's +early day had he been; between them drawn +battle raged while the one had yet advantage +by a head, soon to alter when the other came +stepping up from the ranks of boyhood to +match with men, and to win final supremacy at +every point. Latent challenge had not worn out +of meeting glances even before Rhoda's coming +accentuated an antagonism based primarily +on temperament and type. When the world +turned upon Christian, Philip's forwardness was +accountable enough; when the world veered, his +position might fairly have been backward.</p> + +<p>And truly slowest he was to get conviction +of the perfect cure that had befallen the alien. +Though for proof he drew near, venturous to +tempt a sparkle out of the quenched firebrand,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +his closest approach could discover none; nay, +all lively mislike and jealousy seemed gone +with the missing core; old remembered heats +kept but indifferent life, and every trace of +arrogance had vanished quite. To such an one +Philip could be generous at no great cost were +it not for Rhoda's preference.</p> + +<p>In a character of but poor stuff some strands +of good quality ran hid, and a love-liking for +the shy, fierce, young girl was strengthening +into better worth under reverses. That Christian +stood first in her regard he knew well, for +she made it abundantly clear, with a courage +and frankness that brought comment. 'Not +maidenly!' retorted Philip to his mother, 'then +is maidendom the sorrier.' He came to respect +even the innocent vice in her that woke ever to +affront him. That his passion could survive +rages of vanity, often and deep wounded, +proved its vitality and worth.</p> + +<p>Slowly also and fitfully Philip came to think +that Christian was no rival lover; that he +never did, that now he never would, regard +Rhoda as more than a sister. For his own +gain he might be generous; yet among +meaner motives stood an honest endeavour to +deserve well of the girl who loved Christian, +overbearing old antipathies; nor should it be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +to his demerit that he was unconstrained by +any touch of compunction: an amended version +of Christian, harmless, luckless, well-disposed, +forbade any such disrespect to past measures.</p> + +<p>While many wondered that he should be so +considerate of the alien, Rhoda hardened her +heart. Even greater than unquenchable resentment +was her distress of grief and shame +because Christian was tamed. Unwittingly, +Philip himself afforded demonstration. No +wonder his aim miscarried, and he had ground +to complain bitterly of signal injustice.</p> + +<p>Once, at twilight, as Rhoda turned towards +the quay, looking for Christian and his rent +nets, Philip stayed her, refusing rebuff, and +sought to turn her home again with an +awkward lie. She caught him out and stared. +Then sudden terror started her past him, and +winged her along the shore towards men +clustering thick. But Philip was speedy, +overtook her, and in desperation held her by +main force.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda,' he entreated, 'you must not go. +It is not Christian, I say. It is not Christian.'</p> + +<p>She was struggling with all her might, +beating at him, biting at his hands.</p> + +<p>'I will go, I will! Christian, Christian! +Let me go! Ah, coward!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It is not Christian,' and he named another +to pacify her. 'Not Christian.'</p> + +<p>She did not believe him; as he had caught +her she had heard a cry that maddened her so +that her brain could take hold of no reason. +She was sure that Christian was being done to +death after some horrible fashion.</p> + +<p>No; thank God, no. She saw him suddenly +safe and free; and she fell to sobbing and +trembling pitifully, so that Philip without +offence for a moment held her in his arms. +She saw him coming, one high, fair head conspicuous +above the rest; she saw him looking +aside, turning aside, when instinctively she knew +that what he beheld was a thief bound and +beaten according to the custom and law of the +fishers. As he halted, overlooking the circle, she +read by nods exchange of question and answer. +And then on he came again. One or two +turned and looked after him: that she noted.</p> + +<p>She was moaning and rocking for pain, +though she did not know it; she was white +and cold, for fear so held her heart's blood that +not even the agony of shame she felt for +Christian could urge any to her face. She +tried to go forward, but only got free from +Philip to find she could barely stand, and must +hold by the sea-wall. So Christian's face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +came near to be read, and lo! it was utterly +blank: no anger, no pain, no shame, altered it +by a line; but the lips were grey, and as he +set eyes on Philip quickly he crossed himself. +Then he saw Rhoda, and oh! the comfort to +her of his strong, quiet grasp, and his eyes, +and his voice.</p> + +<p>Throbbing yet from Rhoda's warm weight, +struck with vivid misdoubt and fear of the +alien, Philip forgot control, and the natural +man looked out for one moment with glance +of hot challenge at his born rival. He met no +response: Christian regarded him with resolute +mild eyes, without jealousy, or resentment, or +any perplexity, till he grew confounded and a +little ashamed.</p> + +<p>'Take me home,' entreated Rhoda; and +Christian, without a question or a comment, +took her hand to lead. For one dreadful +moment, breathless to Rhoda, he looked back +and stood. Against his palm hers lay listening: +it was mute, to her nerved apprehension +telling nothing. Then home.</p> + +<p>What could the loon mean with his signing? +thought Philip, shaken by a doubt. Nothing, +nothing—blank madness. Nevertheless, his +sudden, shameful fear of the Alien did not soon +lie down to sleep again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>A further proving awaited Christian and +Philip. To Giles came Rhoda.</p> + +<p>'He says—Philip,' she began, choking, 'that +except he—he—shall excel in the contests to-day, +Christian will be wanted for saving to our +fleet its lead on the coast. Oh, he must not!—he +shall not! And he said, with his hateful +airs, that he would do his best—to spare +Christian. And he said, if he failed at that, he +could yet promise that none should offend +Christian with impunity while he stood by—he—he.' +There a wretched laugh sobbed and +strangled her.</p> + +<p>'I said our Christian would not—no—not +for love, nor fear, nor profit, for he hinted +that. I said: with what face dare such asking +approach? what part has he with the fleet? +Never goes he aboard any boat, and never a +soul comes aboard his, neither do any dredge +alongside him and his ill-luck. The Alien +they call him ever. Him—him their best, +their very best, having used worse than the +lowest outcast, they desire as their champion +at need. Are devils so vile and shameless? +Oh! he must not. Forbid it you, and he +will not disobey.'</p> + +<p>The old man shook his head.</p> + +<p>'He is no child—even now. He will look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +at me with those eyes of his, and ask why—and +then am I done.'</p> + +<p>Later, Rhoda ventured down to Christian, +mending his dredge on the quay, and persuaded +him away. In vain; for some waylaid +him, and there in her hearing got his promise, +in swimming and rowing to do his best for the +credit of the fleet. Rhoda dared only press +his hand and look entreaty while his answer +hung. A dazed look came and passed. Afterwards, +his face of mild inquiry daunted remonstrance, +as Giles foretold.</p> + +<p>Philip fetched him away eventually, but had +not even the favour of a look from Rhoda. +She kept down her head, biting back tears and +words of rage and grief.</p> + +<p>'I think he means well—does Philip,' sighed +Giles unhappily.</p> + +<p>Lois said bitterly: 'Like Samson blind, he +goes to make sport for the Philistines.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda broke into passionate weeping.</p> + +<p>'Ah, ah!' she cried, 'it is unbearable. At +every turn strangers I saw—who have come +and heard—who will see, and our Christian +will hear—alone, all alone. Oh, would that I +were a brother to stand by him! Philip mean +well! He prides himself on it, he parades it +as a virtue, and to himself pretends that he does<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +not hate. But once, he forgot, and looked—and +I saw—hate—hate and fear. And I know, +though he do contrary, that his blood will +dance for joy at any affront to Christian. I +know—and he takes Christian out to show!'</p> + +<p>Giles got on his feet.</p> + +<p>'If I am ever to tread the old quay, it may +well be to-day.'</p> + +<p>The remonstrance of Lois lacked vigour. +He took help of Rhoda's shoulder the length +of the downward street, and then shambled off +alone to Christian's protection.</p> + +<p>One, two, three hours passed, and twilight. +Then back they came, Christian's ample strength +charged with the old man's weight. Giles swore +within his beard in his way that the women knew.</p> + +<p>'He takes his way for no asking or need of +mine,' he declared gruffly; 'and he might use +his strength to better purpose.'</p> + +<p>'Christian outdone!'</p> + +<p>'No,' Christian said, 'I think not. No, none +say so.'</p> + +<p>He stretched wearily, sighed, and, laying +his head down on his arms, slept profoundly. +They exchanged woful looks.</p> + +<p>'Poor lad, poor lad!' said the old man +brokenly.</p> + +<p>'Ah, yes; he bested the lot: in rowing hardly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +in swimming easily. Oh, don't ask! it was +pretty bad. Bad! Oh, good Lord, but it makes +one man sweat again to look back on it.</p> + +<p>'Oh! God damn their greedy eyes! Yet +some few of our lot turned fair ashamed of +their own handiwork; and when one brute of +the Islands said—no matter what, but his own +fellows muttered shame—and Philip would +have struck him, yonder poor fool knocked up +his arm quick.</p> + +<p>'Yes, Philip, girl! and I tell you I saw no +hate: and he looked long and close too.'</p> + +<p>Stirless in sleep, Christian offered remonstrance +to nerves that quivered under the halting +tale.</p> + +<p>'The worst? no, the worst was after the +young fools in their cups got heady. And in +the end—well, the end of all was that Philip +floored his man. And that should have been +Christian's business, and he would not stir, +though I nudged him to be up and at such +foul jests. "I have heard nothing unfit," he +says. And I wished I were underground. +I never want to foot the quay again. Poor +lad! ay, and poor spirit! the very man of +him has got flawed.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Lois painfully, 'however it came +he did worthily, up to his name.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>Giles closed his mouth, but shook his head +mournfully, and Rhoda drew to him.</p> + +<p>This fell when late gales were closing the +season to the coral fishers. Little more than +a week after, Christian came back with his +broken arm.</p> + +<p>Then want came looming straight ahead. +Every due was paid, but none knew by what +hard stinting, for resolute pride uttered no +plea, and hid every sign. That the waning life +of Giles should suffer from no lack, the others +fared the harder. A haggard Christian, befitting +a chastened lot, drew no comment; and +if Rhoda grew a little pale, and Lois shrunk +and grey, known cares they had for allowance, +barring any guess at scant bread.</p> + +<p>The hardest of trials to a willing, strong man +met Christian when, re-knit and sound, he +offered for work and found that no man would +hire him. His strange ill-luck cut him off +from fellowship, so strong was the suspicion +that a malignant influence had marked him +down jealously. The only one to withstand +the general verdict, to link him in, to persuade +some favour to his hands, was the unrewarded +Philip, whose best endeavour but won for him +few, and brief, and ill-paid spells of labour. +A many there were who would not take his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +services at a gift, and he knew it. Refuse, +stranded out of touch of the human tide, +he hung idle on the quay, through shortening +days from morn to night, resolutely patient of +the leaden hours and of the degradation on +his famous strength.</p> + +<p>Lois foresaw that bitter need might drive +him away at last, but as yet she could not bid +him go, for Giles was slowly dying.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<p>Philip sought out Christian secretly, to hint +that on a venture three gold pieces might be +his. Christian understood him well enough. +In the veiled language of the coast, a venture +signified honourable service for brave men, +though the law of the land held otherwise, and +rewarded it as felony. A well-knit League +carried on far and near a contraband trade in +the lives of proscribed men, and even the +scrupulous honesty of Christian brought no +reluctance to engage.</p> + +<p>'When, and with whom?' he asked.</p> + +<p>'To-morrow, you and I,' said Philip, and +watched him anxiously.</p> + +<p>'Then are you of the League?' said +Christian indifferently, nettling the other, still +in the young pride of a desired association. +The Alien at his best, he knew, would never +have been reckoned fit; for though he excelled +in strength, he lacked head.</p> + +<p>'You and I together,' he said, 'are fairly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +equal to any other three, and so can our gains +be the larger.'</p> + +<p>Yet Christian would not readily close on the +rich relief. He fixed on the other a thoughtful +eye, pondering a question of fairness that +might not be imparted. Philip flushed a little.</p> + +<p>'I am answerable to the League,' he said +nervously; 'and though from outsiders we +exact oaths, I will take it upon me to accept as +sufficient your bare word for good faith and +secrecy.'</p> + +<p>This was no more than Christian's credit +had established; for from boyhood, under the +strict schooling of Lois, he had kept to his +word as sacredly as others to their oaths, and +from pride and a scruple had ever refused to +be sworn.</p> + +<p>Long seemed the pause and the trying +scrutiny before Christian sighed and said, 'So +be it.'</p> + +<p>'And secrecy?'</p> + +<p>'I promise secrecy.'</p> + +<p>'And you will not refuse a strict promise to +obey orders—mine?'</p> + +<p>A vague foreboding warned Christian to +stay, but reason could not sufficiently uphold +it against his dire need of the gold. He +promised.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I take it,' said Philip carelessly, 'that your +boat would be the easier to handle. Mine is +over heavy for two.'</p> + +<p>'I cannot risk what is not wholly mine.'</p> + +<p>'The League makes good all loss. And +remember,' he looked away, and his voice had +a strange note, 'if we do not come back—for +long—or ever—the League sees to it that our +folk do not want.'</p> + +<p>Christian looked at him hard.</p> + +<p>'Agreed,' he said first; and then, 'You think +that likely?'</p> + +<p>'A venture is a venture; and, well, I may +say that two ventures have miscarried, so many +and brisk are the chasers; and I know of some +who have fought shy of this one. I volunteered,' +he said with pride.</p> + +<p>So they went their ways, Philip bidding his +conscience lie still and mute, Christian questioning +his.</p> + +<p>Save Giles, never had any man put out in +that boat with the Alien. As the two slid out +under early night, Philip looked at him, wondering +if his wits were sound enough to tell +him this, himself misliking the instance overmuch +now. The sea was black and sullen, and +the wind chill; Christian, silent and indifferent, +was no heartening mate; and the shadow of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +night brought out a lurid streak in the venture +that viewed under daylight had been but dull +and faint.</p> + +<p>The stealthy boat crept on till midnight; +now and then from the cusp of a bay floated +out the faint cry of a quail. Then thrice it +sounded, when the boat swooped in, touched, +and with a third aboard, sprang away swift as +a fishing gull.</p> + +<p>About to the west, then, Christian steered as +Philip gave word; still west and west. He +did not scan the stranger with natural interest, +nor had he yet asked one question on their +goings, though they were stretching for a coast +known to him by fatal influence. When the +very roar of evil waters sounded, and through +it the first expostulation of a buoy bell, Philip's +scrutiny could still detect no reluctance.</p> + +<p>Oh! fain now would he see a touch of human +infirmity for fellowship; night had entered his +blood, and shocks of horrid fear coursed; too +stark and dreadfully mute was the figure at +the helm for him to be void of apprehension. +And the terrors of the sinister place, that his +venture was to set at nought, according to a +daylight mind, came beating in against unstable +defences, entered, and took possession.</p> + +<p>Christian stooped over the gunwale, peering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +into the dark water. At that, Philip's hand +went searching hurriedly about the bow, and +that he sought was missing. He braced himself +and approached the Alien.</p> + +<p>'Christian, has she never a twig of rowan at +her bows?'</p> + +<p>The face that turned he could not see to +read. 'No,' was the curt answer, and shaken +through, he drew off with doubled thumbs.</p> + +<p>Too late now he doubted Christian to be no +tool for handling with impunity. And worse +he dreaded, out of a dark teeming with possibilities, +dreadful to human flesh and human +spirit. His hair rose, and he flung prayers to +the hierarchy of heaven, but chiefly to those +three—St. Mary, St. Margaret, and St. Faith. +Comfort it was to draw to the side of one who +abode, as he himself, within the limits of the +five human senses. The quiet voice of the +Adventurer rallied him.</p> + +<p>'What goes wrong?'</p> + +<p>'We bear no rowan, nor leaf, nor berry.'</p> + +<p>'Rowan! for protection against evil spirits?'</p> + +<p>'Ah! name them not. Not here and now. +Rather turn your thumbs against them, and +watch him.'</p> + +<p>'Him! your chosen mate?'</p> + +<p>'God forgive me, and help us—yes. Sir, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +tell you, laughter here is more than folly—it is +wickedness. No, I will not be questioned how +and why. There—look there!'</p> + +<p>He grasped the sceptic's arm and pointed; +Christian again had suddenly leaned down to +peer over the boat's side.</p> + +<p>'What does he see?'</p> + +<p>Philip's teeth chattered. 'God knows, I +dare not think.'</p> + +<p>He crowded sail recklessly, and the boat +leapt along, quivering like a thing in fear. +At speed they fled on further west, till the +Sinister buoys were all passed by, and the +Land's End drew up and turned behind them. +Then Philip, with a heart lighter by some +degrees, hove to, close furled, to wait and +watch through the chill, long hours, till nearing +dawn turned them back to the safe desolation +of the evil place.</p> + +<p>Daylight better than dark speech declared +the three to each other. The Adventurer considered +well the men charged with his life and +fortunes. Of a splendid make they were, both +above the common in stature and strength, and +well favoured in singular contrast. A practised +student of his kind could read lines of weakness, +and some feminine virtues also, in the +dark, oval face with luminous, fine eyes, and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +mouth too fully perfect for a man, and could +read on the face from the resolute north a +square threat of obstinacy showing from the +bones out, and daring and truth in the grey +eyes, deep set, and from brow to chin every +imprint of integrity. Both faces were set and +haggard, and their eyes encountered with a +sombre disaffection that augured but ill for +success. Strife was latent.</p> + +<p>Christian's glance rested on the Adventurer, +unhooded to the morning light, and he guessed +him, and knew him by silver mane and black +brows an old lion-lord of a famous herd. The +ray of recognition was caught and weighed. 'He +has not been trusted, yet his looks are fit,' ran +the old man's thoughts. He weighed Philip, +whose features twitched, whose hands were +nervous, who eyed his fellow with an uncertain +glance, wavering at a return impassive as stone. +Without hesitation he questioned for clearance.</p> + +<p>'Is all well—so far?'</p> + +<p>'Ay—so far?'</p> + +<p>'At your discretion I would hear how our +chances lie, and on what side peril. To a +landsman we carry on in an aimless fashion.'</p> + +<p>Philip looked at him straight enough, then +furtively towards Christian. The stranger +dropped his voice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Is danger yonder?'</p> + +<p>Philip did not answer him, and strengthened +in misdoubt, he spoke with a note of authority.</p> + +<p>'I would know your plans.'</p> + +<p>'You shall,' said Philip, but still he looked +at Christian, and found it hard to begin. He +took heart of wine.</p> + +<p>'Hearken—you also, Christian.</p> + +<p>'Sir, my undertaking is to put you aboard a +foreigner, due to pass with her consorts off the +Land's End, may be this day, or to-morrow +at latest, whose part is but to contrive so that +darkness may cover this bit of contraband +trade.</p> + +<p>'Your flight discovered will for sure have +brought an embargo on all the coast. Not +a sail will be out, but chasers on the watch. +Ashore now, not a chance were possible; but +we took wing betimes; and here may we bide +under daylight, and at night make again for +the Land's End to watch our chance.'</p> + +<p>'Go on. This contrivance is too incredibly +bald to suffice. How, then, when presently a +patrol sails round yonder head?'</p> + +<p>'May Heaven forfend!'</p> + +<p>'Heaven! are you mad? Is all our security +to be the grant by Heaven of a miracle?'</p> + +<p>'First, sir, I will tell you that we are like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +enough to be unharried; for it cannot be in +mortal reckoning that we should dare here, +since this place is a death-trap to be given wide +berth in winter gales.'</p> + +<p>'The very place to seek men fugitive and +desperate.'</p> + +<p>'By your leave, sir, I came into this venture +as a volunteer, and not from desperation.</p> + +<p>'The special danger of these coasts you do +not know. Our winter storms, sudden and +fierce, strike here at their hardest. Learned +men say that high ranges leagues off over sea +make a funnel to set them here. We fishers +have another way of thinking—no matter what. +But 'tis wide known that there is no record of +any boat caught in a winter burst within sound +of these breakers living to boast of it.'</p> + +<p>'Is, then, the favour of Heaven also to be +engaged to preserve from storm as from +chase?'</p> + +<p>Philip, tongue and throat, was dry, and he +drank again deeply.</p> + +<p>'You tell me of risks that I cannot bring +myself to believe a volunteer would engage; +not though, as I hear, he doubled his price.'</p> + +<p>Wine and resentment mounted a flush.</p> + +<p>'You do ill, sir, to fleer at a man who for +your service risks freedom, life—ay, more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +life—but that you would not believe; for you +laughed, under night even, you laughed!'</p> + +<p>'By heavens! every look of a death-trap +comes out on your own showing; and except +you show me the key to unlock it, I myself +will hazard the forcing; I and your mate +yonder, who well I see is not in your confidence, +whose face tells that he has no liking +for you and your doings.'</p> + +<p>Christian turned away and made no response.</p> + +<p>'For God's sake, sir,' whispered Philip then, +'have patience, or you ruin all!'</p> + +<p>'Let be that wine and speak out.'</p> + +<p>'Drink you, Christian.'</p> + +<p>He refused. Philip fetched breath for a +plunge.</p> + +<p>'Bear me out, Christian, when I say that one +there is who can do what none other living can—and +will.'</p> + +<p>Christian waited with a face of stone.</p> + +<p>'Who can carry us safe through the reefs. +Christian—this—you promised—you must +undertake this.</p> + +<p>'Look you, we may never be driven to it; +a far ship could not easily make us out against +this broken background.</p> + +<p>'Christian, not another soul knows or shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +know. Sir, you can tell him that the League +had not even a guess. I stood out for that.</p> + +<p>'You asked nothing. Had you but cared +to ask, I would have told you earlier. You +may have guessed; you cannot deny you are +able. Sir, he is; and when I asked his services, +he promised—without reserve he promised.</p> + +<p>'Christian, you never have failed of your +word; all your life that has been your pride, +and so have I relied on it—a man's life relies +on it.'</p> + +<p>Christian kept an averted face, and stared +down into the water.</p> + +<p>'You can—I know you can!'</p> + +<p>'I can.'</p> + +<p>'And you will—to your promise I trusted.'</p> + +<p>'I promised, and I will.'</p> + +<p>Philip grasped his hand in cordial gratitude; +Christian suffered it, but his face was sullen. +The Adventurer saw sweat standing on the +brow of each, so that he wondered at what +were behind.</p> + +<p>Philip turned with a brightened eye.</p> + +<p>'Now, sir, you may see that our chances are +not so desperate, since, from storm or chase, we +can put to safe haven beyond the reefs, to wait +or dodge; or at worst, to get ashore and take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +to the hills—a put back, but to you a good +exchange for four walls. Only I have a thing +to ask of you, sir, come good or ill: that +you will never breathe to a soul of this way +of escape.'</p> + +<p>The Adventurer eyed him with something of +distrust still, while he fingered his beard +thoughtfully and smiled, half sneering.</p> + +<p>'I understand—you would preserve a monopoly, +and continue a good trade. But it looks +to me that you have done some cheating by +your mate, that might make him decline +partnership and seek his own market.'</p> + +<p>'By heavens! you are over ready with your +imputations!' said Philip, angry. 'The Alien +there is welcome to make what profit he can for +me. Never with my goodwill shall I be here +again. For why I undertook it, I had my own +good reasons, which concern you not at all. But +I will tell you that I know not of another man +who would dare partnership with the Alien—ay, +ask him, and he will not deny it; or who would +put body and soul in jeopardy in this place.'</p> + +<p>The Adventurer turned to Christian, smiling, +courting friendly intelligence.</p> + +<p>'You, it appears, have put body and soul in +jeopardy, and know the place; and body and +soul are none the worse.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without any answer, Christian looked at +him, and colour ebbed from his face. Philip +touched for warning, and with lifted finger +indicated the want, half guessed already by that +fixed, blank gaze.</p> + +<p>'Answer only at your pleasure, but for my +soul's salvation I do desire to know what +threats it here.'</p> + +<p>For the moment Philip did not suspect +derision. Discreetly he told of the fatal +tradition, that the settled conviction of generations +had brought men fatally to uphold and +abet. So much of reason he had discovered +for himself, and he desired that Christian +should hear.</p> + +<p>The work was taken out of his hands by a +skilled master. The reverend superstition was +subjected to all the disintegrating forces that +human scepticism can range; and with cold +reason, logic, and analogy, went such charm +of courteous tolerance, and wit, and wise and +simple exposition, as tempered the mordant +touch of lurking ridicule. He was but for +pastime, trying his practised touch upon two +young fools. Half scared, half fascinated and +admiring, Philip responded; Christian stayed +sullen and silent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<p>At its nearest lay the Isle Sinister under noon. +The Adventurer sighed for the land as, cold +and uneasy, he couched for needful sleep. +Philip lay stretched beside him, Christian, +according to his own preference, taking the +first watch. Out of new bravado, Philip +passed on to Christian a muttered question: +Could he now carry them in and land them on +the very Isle?</p> + +<p>Like a bolt came Christian's answer: +'Drowned and damned both shall you be +before I will.'</p> + +<p>Philip rose up, startled by the answer and +the unexpected intimacy it acknowledged. But +the voice had been of level quiet, and the +Alien's face showed no anger. The Adventurer +watched with a sardonic smile; and Philip, +forcing a show of unconcern that he did not +feel, muttered a word of madness and dropped +back. For a while resurgent terrors thwarted +sleep; but the quiet breathing of his neighbour,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +the quiet outlook of the Alien, told on his +shaken nerves, and slumber overtook him. +Christian stayed waking alone.</p> + +<p>Ah! the relief. He stood up to take free, +deep breath, and stretched his great limbs. +Long, intently, with shaded eyes, he stared +towards the Isle Sinister. Ah! nothing, and +well nothing. Could she trust that he meditated +no trespass? that he would allow +none? Could she deem that he offered +no insane resentment against her severity? +A sea-gull flapped close past his head, but +was mute.</p> + +<p>He turned and looked down on the sleepers, +and his face, illegible for many a day, showed +bitter resentment and scorn. Shamefully had +he been beguiled, trapped, bound by a promise; +and wanton goading had not lacked, all but +intolerable. Fools! their lives were in his +hand; and he was awake. Awake, as for +months he had not been; his pulses were leaping +to full heart-beats, there was stir in his +brain; and therewith, dislike and contempt +exciting, the keen human passion of hate lay +torpid no longer; it moved, it threatened to +run riot.</p> + +<p>Who dare claim loyal service from him? +Philip! One boat had been familiar with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +these reefs: somewhere in the past murder +rested unavenged. Philip!</p> + +<p>In the deep water that the boat shadowed a +darkness slid, catching his eye. He peered, +but it was gone. Before, and not once only, +had an impression seized him, by deliberate +sight not verified, that a sinister attendance +lurked below. Now unconstrained he could +watch.</p> + +<p>Great dread possessed him. Storm and +chase were light perils, not to be compared +with her displeasure, her mere displeasure, +irrespective of how she might exert it. With +heavy grief had he borne late estrangement, +and her severe chastisement of offence. Were +his limbs but for his own service, lightly, so +soon as they were able, had he risked them +again to worship his love and seek grace. Alas! +she could not know that loyal, and strong, and +tender his devotion held; she would but see +an insolent and base return, meriting final +condemnation. Helpless rages of grief urged +him to break from all bonds, and plunge +headlong to engage her wrath or her mercy. +He cast on the sleepers then a thought, with +ugly mirth, mocking the control of his old +enemy in his heart.</p> + +<p>How would she take the forfeit! With her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +rocks and waves she had broken him once, and +the surrender of all his bones to them in +despair he had firmly contemplated; but +human flesh and spirit shrank from horrors +unknown, that she might summon for vengeance. +Could he but see what lurked below.</p> + +<p>Spite of the ripe mutiny in him he minded +his watch, and swept the horizon momently +with due attention. The day altered as the +slow hours dragged: a thin film travelled up +the clear sky; the sun took a faint double +halo, while the sea darkened to a heavy purple. +He knew the signs: small chance was there +now of a stormless night. Not two hours of +full daylight were left when below the sun rose +a sail. His hopes and fears took little hold on +it, for as yet it was but a speck; and he knew +that before it could close darkness would be +upon them, and belike storm also.</p> + +<p>With a desperate remedy before his eyes a +devil's word was in his ears: the League makes +good all loss. Foul play? Nay, but had +not the League by Philip played him foul +first, with injury not to be made good. And +those for whose sake he had owed regard for +his wretched life would be bettered by his +loss.</p> + +<p>When Philip rose up from sleep a blackness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +stood upon the distant sea, threatening the sun; +the chill wind had dropped, but a heavy, sullen +swell insisted of a far-off tyranny advancing. +To him no sail showed, but Christian flung +him word of it, and his sinking heart caught at +high hope.</p> + +<p>Then, since their vigil was soon to pass, +Philip dared greatly; for he bade Christian +sleep, set hand himself to sail and tiller, +glided in past the buoys, and rocked at +trespass.</p> + +<p>'It is safer so, should the haze part,' he said, +but his voice shook.</p> + +<p>The Alien said never a word; each looked +the other hard in the eyes, paling.</p> + +<p>'The League makes good all loss,' said +Philip, low. 'And if so be that only some +forgery of a loss can cover a fair claim, you +may count on my—what you will—as you +please.'</p> + +<p>Christian refused hearing. Flung down for +unattainable sleep he lay stretched, covering +his head to inspect by the light of darkness +his wrongs, and Philip's treason, that left to +him nothing but a choice of transgression.</p> + +<p>The blackness stood higher and crept on. +The sun was captured, shorn, disgraced, and +sent bald on his way; a narrow streak of red<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +bleeding upon the waters died slowly; all else +was slate-black. Above the gloom of the cliffs +the sky showed blanched, clear and pale. +Ghostly white the sea-birds rose and fell. The +tide was rising, deepening the note of the surf; +between the warders white columns leapt up +with great gasps.</p> + +<p>It was Rhoda's name that Philip whispered +over, to strengthen his heart at the perilous +outlook. The make of his love had a certain +pride in overbearing such weak scruples as a +tough conscience permitted. Half he feared +that the Alien's poor wits had yet not recognised +the only path left open by a skilful +provision; for there he lay motionless, with +the slow breath of untroubled sleep. He +would not fear him; with Rhoda's name, +with hope on the unseen sail, he fortified his +heart.</p> + +<p>In the deep water unshadowed by the boat a +darkness slid, catching his eye. He peered, +but it was gone. His heart stood in his throat; +a palsy of terror shook him. Oh speak, speak, +St. Mary, St. Margaret, St. Faith, help a poor +body—a poor soul!</p> + +<p>When he could stir he headed about, and +slunk away for the open, out of the accursed +region. A draught of wine steadied him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +somewhat, and softly overstepping Christian +he roused the Adventurer, to get comfort of +human speech. He told of the coming storm, +he told of the coming sail, but of that other +thing he said nothing. Yet presently the +Adventurer asked why he shook. 'It is for +cold,' and he drank again. And presently +asked, what did he look for over the side? +'A shark's fin,' he said, 'that I thought I saw,' +and he drank again.</p> + +<p>At their feet Christian lay motionless, heeding +nothing outside his darkness. Yet presently +the Adventurer said further: 'He sleeps. +From what disquiet should you eye him so?'</p> + +<p>'If you list you shall know of his past,' +muttered Philip. His speech was a little +thick.</p> + +<p>From the coming from the sea of the alien +child he started, and rambled on, with fact and +fiction very inextricably mingled; but the +hearer could make out the main truth of the +blasting of a proud young life, and pitied, and +was minded now to make large allowance for +any misdemeanour.</p> + +<p>From their feet Christian rose, and without +a look removed to the bows. They were +stricken to silence.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Philip clutched the other, staring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +down. Both saw and blanched, though what +they glimpsed gave to them no shape for a +name. It was gone.</p> + +<p>'What is it?'</p> + +<p>'No rowan! not a leaf.'</p> + +<p>At that the old man mastered his nerves +and laughed scorn in his beard. Philip cast +a scared look towards Christian.</p> + +<p>'Last night,' he whispered, 'he looked over +the side. I saw him—twice—it was for +this.'</p> + +<p>'What is it?'</p> + +<p>'You saw. That was his familiar.'</p> + +<p>'Now look you,' returned the other with +grave sarcasm, 'that is a creature I have seen +never, and would gladly. You, if you be +skilled as a fisher, catch me that familiar, and +I will pay you in gold; or in broad silver if +you win me but a fair sight.'</p> + +<p>Philip, ashy white, crossed himself. +'Heaven keep us! The one bait were a +human soul.'</p> + +<p>Not with all his art and wisdom could the +Adventurer now reinstate the earlier hardihood +of his companion. Against a supplement by +wine he protested.</p> + +<p>'Sir,' said Philip, sullen, 'I have braved +enough for you and my conscience, and more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Longer here I will not bide; no, not for any +price. We go to meet our fortune yonder +of friend or foe.'</p> + +<p>The Adventurer looked at him and smiled. +'You miscount. Should I and he yonder, the +Alien, be of another mind, your course may be +ordered otherwise.'</p> + +<p>Taken in his own toils, Philip glared in +wrath and fear, sundered from a common +cause, an adversary.</p> + +<p>From the shrouded sea grew a roar; +Christian sprang up; the darkness swayed +forward, broke, and flew shredded; a line of +racing waves leapt upon them as with icy +stroke the squall passed. Through the broken +vapours a rim of sun showed on the horizon; +and there full west beat a tall three-master; a +second was standing nearer; of a third a sway +of mist withheld certainty. Here rose hope +wellnigh clear of doubt.</p> + +<p>But the mists spread down again with +twilight adding. The House Monitory woke +and spoke far behind as they went to windward. +Now Christian steered.</p> + +<p>Again was he aware of a stealthy threat +moving below, and again looking he could +nothing define. He was seen of both: the +Adventurer came boldly to his side, and Philip<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +dare not bide aloof. They peered, and he +would not.</p> + +<p>For an intolerable moment he forbore them, +gripping the tiller hard.</p> + +<p>'There is it!' said the old man. 'What +say you is the creature? Your mate has +named it—your familiar,' and he laughed.</p> + +<p>Even then Christian forbore still, though +the stress of long hours of repressed passion +culminated in a weight of frantic anger and +loathing, cruel to bear.</p> + +<p>Then Philip lied, denying his words, and +Christian knew that he lied; his crafty wits +disturbed by wine, reverse, and fear, he +blundered, protesting overmuch.</p> + +<p>Said the Adventurer grimly: 'Now my +offer holds good for silver or gold; be you +man enough to back your words, you who +would give me the lie?'</p> + +<p>Without tackle men take fish by flamelight, +spearing; and thus fell the wording of Philip's +menace, as, reeling between fear and resentment +on either hand, he cried wildly:</p> + +<p>'I care not—though, by heavens! a famous +take may come of it. We have but to try +fire.'</p> + +<p>Christian gripped him, very death in his +face and in his strength; swayed him from his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +feet; gripped the harder for his struggles, till +the ribs of the poor wretch gave, and cracked +within his arms; with a great heave had him +shoulder high; with another could have flung +him overboard. And did not.</p> + +<p>On the finest verge of overpoise he held, +swung round with a slackening hold, and +dropped him like a cast bale to the bottom +of the boat. Then he caught the tiller and +clung to it with the strength of a drowning +man.</p> + +<p>Philip lay groaning, broken and wrung in +body and mind. He realised a dreadful truth: +for one brief second he had seen in Christian's +eyes fierce, eager hatred; clear, reasonable, for +informed by most comprehensive memory; +mad he was, but out of no deficiency; mad, +with never a blank of mind to disallow vengeance; +as cunning and as strong he was as ever +madness could make a man; unmasked, a +human devil.</p> + +<p>The Adventurer lifted him and felt his +bones, himself half stunned and bleeding, for +he had been flung heavily from unpractised +balance, as suddenly the boat lurched and +careened in the wallop of the sea.</p> + +<p>The menace of an extreme peril closed +their difference, compelling fellowship. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +counselled and agreed together with a grasp +and a nod and few words. Philip fumbled +for his knife, unclasped, and showed it. +'Our lives or his. Have you?' 'Better,' +returned the other, and had out a long dagger-knife +sheathed, that he loosened to lie free for +instant use. 'It has done service before. Can +you stand? are you able?' It was darkening so +that sight could inform them but little concerning +the Alien.</p> + +<p>Christian was regarding them not at all. +From head to foot he was trembling, so that +he had ado to stand upright and keep the boat +straight. Not from restraint his lips were bitten +and his breath laboured hard: quick revulsion +had cast him down, so passion-spent, conscience-stricken, +and ashamed, that scarcely had he +virtue left for the face of a man.</p> + +<p>Their advance strung him, for he saw the +significant reserve of each right hand. That +his misdeed justified any extreme he knew, not +conscious in his sore compunction of any right +to resist even for his life. He waited without +protest, but neither offered to strike.</p> + +<p>Reason bade for quick despatch—very little +would have provoked it; but not Philip at his +worst could conduct a brutal butchery, when +conviction dawned that a human creature stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +at their mercy by his own mere resolute submission. +With names of coward and devil +he struck him first, but they did not stir him +to affording warrant. The Adventurer took +up the word.</p> + +<p>'Brutal coward, or madman, which you be, +answer for your deed; confess you are a traitor +paid and approved.'</p> + +<p>He shook his head.</p> + +<p>'Why else have you now half murdered +your fellow? Verily are you an alien through +and through, for no man born on these shores +would so basely betray a trust.'</p> + +<p>'Nor I,' he got out, and rather wished they +would strike with their hands.</p> + +<p>'You lie!' said his accuser; 'or robbery, or +murder, or treachery you intend—or all. Own +your worst; try it; this time openly, fairly: +your brute strength upon two who are not +your match: on your mate damaged from +your foul handling: on an old man, whose +gold you have taken, the trust of whose life +you have accepted.'</p> + +<p>He could not attempt a protest, though his +heart was like to break enforced to silence. +The other advanced in temerity with an order.</p> + +<p>'You have a knife. Give it up.'</p> + +<p>He obeyed without a word. Then the two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +made no reserve, but with a show of bare steel +proved his temper. He did not lift a hand.</p> + +<p>Lois might come to hear of his transgression: +she would never know how hard it was to atone, +because they dawdled so cruelly, because he +knew they would bungle so cruelly: he did +not think either had force to drive a blade +home at a stroke.</p> + +<p>The Adventurer paused. Here without +madness was a guilty wretch cowed at detection, +abject as a wolf in a pit!</p> + +<p>'We would not your blood on our hands, +yet to no oath of yours may our lives trust.'</p> + +<p>'I would not offer it.'</p> + +<p>'Only as the wild beast you showed yourself, +look to be kept bound.'</p> + +<p>Such putting to shame was simply just, but +oh! hard.</p> + +<p>'I may not withstand you,' he said, hardly, +steadily, 'but ah, sir! ah, Philip, suffer me! If +this night I am to go to my account, I do +greatly require that, through my default, the +lives of two men may not drop in the loaded +scale.'</p> + +<p>To them the plea rang strained and false.</p> + +<p>'We choose our risk; against treachery of +the skies will we rather provide.'</p> + +<p>He surrendered his hands to the Adventurer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +Philip took the helm, but the miserable culprit +winced to hear how the strain brought from +him a sob of distress. The old man did his +best under direction for shortening sail; but +while yet this was doing, again the ominous +roar sounded and grew, and a squall caught +them unready.</p> + +<p>The light boat quivered in every plank as +she reared against the heavy charge; sheets of +water flew over, blinding. Christian heard +from the helm a shriek of pain and despair, and +at that, frantic, such an access of strength +swelled in him, that suddenly his bonds parted +like thread, and he caught the restive tiller out +of Philip's incompetent hold. There could +be no further question of him whom by a +miracle Heaven had thus graced in strength +for their service. And for their lives they +needed to bale. Christian blessed the cruel, +fierce elements.</p> + +<p>Far ahead heaved lights, revealed on the +blown seas: far, so far. Right in their teeth +drove the promised gale, with intermittent +bursts of sleet and hail. Upon bodies brine-wet +the icy wind cut like a knife. Twin lights +sprang, low down, giving the wanted signal; +bore down, then stood away: the appointed +ship followed after her consorts, not daring,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +with a gale behind, to near the cruelest coast +known.</p> + +<p>Struggling on under a mere stitch of canvas, +the wind resenting even that, clutching it, +threatening to tear out the mast, they went +reeling and shuddering on to their desperate +fortune. For hours the long endeavour lasted, +with gain on the double lights by such slow +degrees as mocked at final achievement.</p> + +<p>Except that his hands were like to freeze out +of use Christian cared marvellously little for +outer miseries. To him all too short was the +span of life left for retrieving one guilty +minute; no future could he look for to live it +down, so certain had he become that this night +death was hard after him.</p> + +<p>Two stars reeling, kind, bright stars, shone +life for others though not for him. Perhaps +for him, he wanted to believe; some coward +drop in his blood tried to cheat reason and +conscience. Why not for him? Could his +doom be so heavy as to sink that great bulk +with its scores of souls? And though now he +should freely release others of his peril, who +would ever count it to him for righteousness, +to soften the reproach that would lie against +his name so long as ever it were remembered?</p> + +<p>The cold touched his brain. Surely he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +died before, long ago, out of all this pain and +distress. Waves heaved gigantically; spray +dashed hard in his face; he shrank humanly, +knowing he was not fit to die; she was coming +through the sea bringing life. No, ah! not +now. She was lurking in the sea holding death.</p> + +<p>'Madness and treason are not in him.'</p> + +<p>'He is a devil,' said Philip, 'a very devil. +See! Go you now, and feign to persuade for +abandoning the boat, and shipping together.'</p> + +<p>'That will I in all good faith,' and he went +and came again.</p> + +<p>'First he refused outright; then he said, +when the moment came we should know as +well as he.'</p> + +<p>'I knew it, I knew it,' chattered Philip, 'oh, +a devil he is! Sir, you will see me out of his +hands. I know what he intends: on the instant +you quit the boat he casts off and has me +at his mercy, he and that thing below. I am +no coward, and it ill becomes you to hint it; +and I fear death no more than any sinner must, +no clean, straight death.</p> + +<p>'Sir, his putting out of life was long and +bloody: I saw it; death by inches. And he +looked at me with infernal hatred then; the +very same I saw in his eyes but now. Why +should he check at sudden murder, but for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +fouler revenge. You cannot judge as I. You +have not seen him day after day. Treacherously +he accepts friendship; he feigns to be +witless; and all the while this hell-fire is hidden +out of sight. You do not know how he has +been denied opportunity, till rashly I offered +it.</p> + +<p>'O sir, quit of him this once, I am quit of +him for ever! No, I mean no villainy against +him, but—but—it happens—there is every inducement +for him to choose that he and his +boat never be seen of us again. Drown? no, +he never was born to drown. The devil sees +to his own.</p> + +<p>'It is true—true. You saw the Thing yourself. +Also, did he not refuse an oath? So has +he all his life. Now know I: there are certain +words he for his contract may not utter.'</p> + +<p>When tall masts rocked above, and voices +hailed, and a rope shot across, again the +Adventurer pressed Christian hard with precious +human kindness. Men big and fair-haired +were shouting, knocking at his heart strangely. +Most foolish and absurd came a longing just +once before he died to be warm and dry again, +just once. He shook his head.</p> + +<p>Philip kept off, nor by word or sign offered +the forgiveness he ached after, but hasted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +pass first. Then the other followed; he loosed +the rope; it leapt away. The last face he +saw gleaming above him was Philip's, with its +enmity and a ghastly drawn smile of relief: +never to be seen of him again.</p> + +<p>How long would her vengeance delay? The +vast anger of the sea leaped and roared round +him, snatching, striking. An hour passed, and +he was still afloat, though the mast was gone; +and near another, and he was still afloat, but +by clinging to an upward keel. In cruel extremity, +then, he cried the name of Diadyomene, +with a prayer for merciful despatch, and again +her name, and again.</p> + +<p>Diadyomene heard. The waves ran ridged +with light that flickered and leaped like dim +white flame. Phosphor fires edged the keel; +a trailing rope was revealed as a luminous +streak. He got it round his body, and his +hands were eased.</p> + +<p>Up from below surged a dark, snaky coil, +streaming with pale flakes of fire; it looped +him horribly; a second length and a third flung +over him; a fourth overhung, feeling in air. +A loathsome knot worked upon the planks, +spread, and rooted there. He plucked an +arm free, and his neck was circled instead. +His knife he had not: barehanded he fought,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +frenzied by loathing of the foul monster, the +foulest the sea breeds.</p> + +<p>Before his eyes rose the sea's fairest, towered +above him on the rush of a wave, sank to his +level. Terrible was her face of anger, and +cruel, for she smiled. She flung out a gesture +of condemnation and scorn, that flashed flakes +of light off shoulder and hair. She called him +'traitor,' and bade him die; and he, frantic, +tore away the throttled coil at his throat, and +got out, 'Forgive.'</p> + +<p>Like challenge and defiance she hurled then +her offer of mercy: 'Stretch, then, your hand +to me—on my lips and my breast swear, give +up your soul: then I forgive.'</p> + +<p>She heard the death agony of a man cried +then. Ceasing to struggle, his throat was +enwound again; both arms were fast: he cried +to his God to resume his soul, and to take it +straight out of his body and out of hell.</p> + +<p>Away she turned with teeth clenched and +furious eyes; then, writhing, she returned, +reached out, with one finger touched, and the +foul creature shrank, relaxed, drew coil by coil +away, dropped, and was gone. Diadyomene +flashed away.</p> + +<p>When the night and the trouble of the +storm were past, not a ship afloat was scatheless.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +From one that crawled disabled, a boat was +spied, drifting keel upward, with the body +of a man hanging across it, whose bright hair +shone in the early sun, making a swarter +race wonder. Against all conjecture life +proved to be in him yet. And what unimaginable +death had been at him? What garland was +this on his throat: blossoms of blood under +the skin? When he was recovered to speech +he would not say. Good christian men, what +could they think? His boat was righted, and +with scant charity he was hustled back into it; +none of these, suddenly eager to be quit of +him, wishing him God-speed.</p> + +<p>Under cover of night he crawled up to his +home, dreading in his guilt to face the dear, +stern eyes of his mother. Ah! no, he entered +to no questioning and little heed: the two +women sat stricken with sorrow; not for him: +in the room beyond Giles lay dead.</p> + +<p>So Christian's three gold pieces buried Giles +with such decent honour as Lois could desire.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<p>Christian's misdoing was not to pass unregarded.</p> + +<p>A woman turned upon Rhoda passing with +a mutter so like a curse that the girl's surprise +struck her to a pause. It was Philip's mother +who faced her, glowering hate.</p> + +<p>'What have you done with my boy?'</p> + +<p>'I?' said Rhoda, with widening eyes, though +she blushed.</p> + +<p>'You—smooth-faced chit—yes, you! Oh, +keep those fine eyes and that colour to take in +men, for me they will not! I can see through +you! I know you, and the games you are +playing!'</p> + +<p>'What then?' flashed Rhoda. 'You accuse +me? Of what? and by what right?'</p> + +<p>'Right! The right of a mother whose son +you have driven away.'</p> + +<p>'He is nothing to me—never will be—never—nothing!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I know it. I know it well, and I told him +so: nothing! 'Tis only your vanity to have at +your heels the properest lad and the bravest of +the place.'</p> + +<p>'He!' cried Rhoda, in disdain.</p> + +<p>'Ay, I know how your fancy has run, +against natural liking for the dark-haired and +dark-eyed of your own race; your vagary +goes after fair hair and grey eyes. Well, see +for all your sly offers that great blond dolt +gapes and gapes over your bait, never closing +to it. That northern blood is half brine.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda stood speechless; her anger, shame, +and pain transcended blushes, and she changed +to dead white.</p> + +<p>'And you pick out one who can love like a +man, who fires at a word or a look, and him +you delight to stab and torment with your +cruel tongue, while you use him for your ends. +Shameless! You have dropped yourself into +his arms even, so to heat the Alien from his +fishes' blood. May I live to see you put to +shame of some man!'</p> + +<p>'He said—oh, vile—of me! Cur, cur!'</p> + +<p>''Tis I that can read between the lines, not +he, poor blind fool! Miscall him! ay, you +have got the trick. You may bring up faults +against him—some do; but I tell you no man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +will do greatly amiss who still goes to his old +mother and opens his heart to her.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda's breath caught like a sob at that, for +there unknowingly went a stroke at Christian. +She gathered herself together for bitter onslaught, +for outraged pride and indignation +drove out compunction, drove out any mercy. +Out it all shrivelled at a blasting thought that +stopped her very heart. Mute she stood, white, +shuddering, staring. Then she got out a whisper.</p> + +<p>'When did he go—tell me? Since—my +uncle died—or—before?'</p> + +<p>'Well enough you know 'twas before——'</p> + +<p>Rhoda turned and fled homeward, fleet as +terror, though her knees went slack and her +brain reeled. She drew bolts before her +dreadful incoherent whispers welled out to Lois.</p> + +<p>'Where he went she did not know, did not +guess, never thought it was on a planned +venture. None would think of that, or think +that two alone would suffice, or dream of +Christian—I had thought that strange—you +too. And we know Christian went on a +venture, by the three gold pieces we know: and +that could not have been alone, and he is not of +the League. And I thought it had been with +Philip; and I thought Philip meant kindness—perhaps +for my sake, which vexed me. Oh,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +perhaps it was for my sake, and I was vexed! +Yet see, none others guess it nor do conceive +that any, in any cause, would go hand in hand +with our Christian. And none would greatly +mark his goings and comings—Christian's—for +unreason has so chartered his ways. Then, +though both were away that same day, not +even his mother had noted it. And oh! think +of Christian in these days! Has sorrow only +been heavy at his heart? And a hurt on his +throat he would not show. And oh!' she said, +'and oh!' she said, and failed and tried again, +'oh! his knife—<i>he has not his knife</i>.'</p> + +<p>The love and faith of Lois sprang up against +belief.</p> + +<p>'Child, child! what do you dare to say—to +think? Would you hint that Christian—my +boy Christian—has done murder?</p> + +<p>'No, no, never! No, never, never! I would +stake my life—my soul—that it was fair fight!'</p> + +<p>Lois looked at her and said a cruel thing: +'You are no helpmeet for him. Thank God! +you are not his wife!'</p> + +<p>Rhoda quivered at that, and found it a saying +hard to forgive. Her heart swelled to refute +it, and might not for maidenhood. Long ago +she would have had Christian rise up to avenge +himself terribly; her pride had suffered from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +poor temper she saw in his. Now, though he +had exceeded the measure of her vague desire, +he stood fair and high in her estimation, +illuminated, not blackened by the crime she +imputed. Against all the world, against his +mother, she was at one with him. Was +there any other who desired and deserved the +nearest and dearest claim, that she had renounced.</p> + +<p>A wedge of silence drove between them. +The character of the mother's stern virtue +dawned upon Rhoda, appalling her: for the +salvation of her son's soul she might bid him +accept the full penalty of his crime—even that. +A horror of such monstrous righteousness took +the girl. She stole to unbolt the door and away +to warn Christian, when a whisper stayed her.</p> + +<p>'I failed him. I thought then only of my +man, and I had no prayers for my boy. Ah, +Christian, Christian!'</p> + +<p>Doubt had entered. Lois knelt and prayed.</p> + +<p>Rhoda wavered. Her estimate or the world's, +the partial or the vindictive, shrank to their due +proportions, as Lois thus set Christian's crime +before the eye of Heaven. She wavered, turned, +and fell kneeling, clinging and weeping, convicted +of the vain presumption that would keep +Christian from the hands of his God.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was bidden away when Lois caught a +sound of Christian.</p> + +<p>His mother held him by the window for the +first word.</p> + +<p>'Christian, where is Philip?'</p> + +<p>His startled eyes were a stab to her soul; the +tide that crimsoned his very brow checked hers +at her heart. He failed of answering, and guilt +weighed down his head. She rallied on an +inspiration that greatest crimes blanch, never +redden, and 'You have not killed him?' was a +question of little doubt.</p> + +<p>'No, thank God! no!' he said, and she saw +that he shook.</p> + +<p>Then he tried to out with the whole worst +truth, but he needed to labour for breath before +he could say with a catch: 'I meant to—for +one moment.'</p> + +<p>To see a dear face stricken so! Do the +damned fare worse? More dreadful than any +reproach was her turning away with wrung +hands. She returned to question.</p> + +<p>'Then where is he?'</p> + +<p>'I cannot tell. He left me. He would not—he +was afraid.'</p> + +<p>'What had you done? You had harmed +him?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, and told how.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What had he done to anger you? Had he +struck first?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'You had quarrelled?'</p> + +<p>'No.'</p> + +<p>'Had you no excuse?' she said.</p> + +<p>He hesitated. Could she know and understand +all, there might be some pity with her +condemnation, there would be some tempering +of her distress.</p> + +<p>'I can make none,' he had to answer.</p> + +<p>When next she spoke: 'Then it was old hate,' +she said, and after a minute he answered +'Yes' to that.</p> + +<p>So she had to realise that for months, +according to her gospel, he had been a murderer +at heart; and her assurance of a merciful blank +of mind and memory tottered, threatening a +downfall that would prove the dear son of +her hope of a rotten build. She tested his +memory.</p> + +<p>'I asked a promise of you once, and you +gave it.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, and, do what he would, 'I +have broken it' got mangled wretchedly in his +throat.</p> + +<p>'Your promise! Is it believable? You +could—you!'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>'O mother! If God forgot me!'</p> + +<p>Her heart smote her because her prayers had +deserted him then.</p> + +<p>'Oh, peace!' she said, 'and do not add +blasphemy, nor seek to juggle with God.'</p> + +<p>She did not spare him, and deeply she +searched his conscience. Self-convicted already +he was, yet his guilt looked freshly hideous +worded by her, as look wounds, known to the +senses of night, discovered by the eye of day.</p> + +<p>For a whole dreadful hour Rhoda listened to +the murmur of voices. Then they ceased, and +Lois came. 'Thank God, child!' was all she +needed to say.</p> + +<p>'Heaven forgive me! Can you? can he? +Let me go to him—I must. Ah me!—can he +forgive me?'</p> + +<p>Lois held the door and turned her. 'He +has nothing to forgive,' she said, and her face +frightened questions.</p> + +<p>From among some poor hoards Lois drew +out a tiny cross of gold. It was Christian's, +sole relic left of his young unknown life. As +a little lad he had played with it and lost it, +and Lois finding it had taken it into keeping. +Now she took it to him.</p> + +<p>'I will ask no renewal of a broken promise—no. +I want no hard thing of you, only this:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +when temptation to deadly sin is overbearing, +before you yield, unfasten this and fling it from +you into the sea. You will? Christian, answer—say, +"I will."'</p> + +<p>'What worth has any word of mine?' he +said in his despair; but her arms were round +his neck fixing the knot, and stayed to clasp, +but her rare terrible sobs rose as she cried, +'Oh, God help you, my son!' and 'I will, I +will!' flew strong to assure her that that word +would never have to be fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Near was the time that would put him to +the test, and he knew it. A day passed and a +day passed, out of eternity into eternity, and the +moon filled up to Diadyomene's account.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda,' he said, 'do you know what day +this is?'</p> + +<p>'Christmas Eve.'</p> + +<p>'Yes—but to my mother—her child was +born——'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Rhoda hurriedly, and bent her +head: she for the first time knew her own +birthday.</p> + +<p>'Listen, Rhoda! She has aged and weakened +so; the day and night of prayer and fasting she +has now begun I fear may outdo her strength. +Will you keep ever at hand to listen and be +careful of her?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And you?' asked Rhoda.</p> + +<p>'I may not stay. I cannot.'</p> + +<p>She flashed a look of amazed indignation, for +instinctively she knew that he would be leaving +his mother to seek the strange-named woman, +and such filial misconduct in him was hardly +credible. No kind word or look would Rhoda +grant him. He never felt the lack: his +mother's blessing he did greatly desire, but he +dared not intrude on the day of her mourning +to ask it.</p> + +<p>Short was the day and long the way, but +over soon by some hours was he footing it. +The singular incidence of the day encouraged +belief that a special mercy of Heaven was +ordering his goings for the comforting of a +long sorrow. Ah! God grant her a soul from +the sea, and ah! God grant it by me for a +token. All his steps were taken to prayer, +and the least thing he asked of his God was +that, though his sins were so heavy, he might +not die till he had seen that salvation. His +head and his heart told him that if he failed in +his high endeavour he must surely perish.</p> + +<p>Over the wold came a harsh call, and again +till he answered and stayed. He was making +for waste stretches, gashed athwart by long +gullies preventing any fair paths. Already,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +though but half a league forward, tracks had +grown rough and uncertain. The voice came +from a mudded hollow, where a loaded cart +stuck fast, an old horse and an old man +striving with it in vain. Though loath to be +hindered, Christian turned aside to give help.</p> + +<p>He was not graciously welcomed. The old +man scowled, and swore under his breath. +'The Alien, deuce take it, he will not serve!'</p> + +<p>But he stared, and words failed when Christian +promptly laid hand on the load, saying, 'Here's +bad balancing, Gaffer; we had best uncord first +and set it right.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, it shifted. Have it that way, if so you +can and will. My two boys did the cording, +and two fools they be.'</p> + +<p>He sidled away, muttering wonderful oaths +as curiously he watched the Alien's tackling. +The load was a tree brought down by the +recent gale; protruding roots clawed the mud +behind; piled branches nodded to the fore, +orange-red berries bright as coral dangling +there. Christian's great strength made light +of the work, and soon the cart went crawling +out of the mire. He snapped off a twig to +scrape the mud from his shins, and the gaffer's +mutter then caught his ear.</p> + +<p>'He's done it—sure! Be danged if I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +reckoned he could. Well, well, some be +liars!'</p> + +<p>'In your best days, Gaffer, you might have +done as much.'</p> + +<p>The old face wrinkled with a sour grin.</p> + +<p>''Twas said you couldn't abide the rowan.'</p> + +<p>'Why?'</p> + +<p>'Well, I never asked. May be they lie who +swear that never a twig of the rowan goes in +your boat. Some have taken to say so.'</p> + +<p>'None, true enough. What then?' said +Christian, and he noticed that the man had +thrust a bunch of berries into his belt.</p> + +<p>'Well, there, 'tis not I that can give the +reason.'</p> + +<p>'Can you think mine the only boat that +goes without that garnish?'</p> + +<p>'I swear the only one.'</p> + +<p>Christian did not know how on his very +account a prevalent custom had gained ground. +He brought out a string of names.</p> + +<p>'Why, most of those from this very tree +have had takings. 'Tis an ill wind that blows +nowhere; for I reckon now to get a good price +off this timber—ay, to the last scrap, and 'tis +you I owe some thanks for that. So, look you, +I have a mind, after I have made my profit, to +open out of your doing here with me and take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +the laugh. Hey? Ah! it seems to me that +some of your wits are left, so may be all I heard +tell of was lies, when 'twas said you had had +games with the Evil One, and had lost to him +both wits and soul.'</p> + +<p>Christian said slowly, 'You thought I had +no soul?'</p> + +<p>'Never thought at all; why should I? Let +fools think; I see. You, I see, but now handle +the rowan freely, and pass it to and fro, as +never could you have done had your soul +known unholy tampering.'</p> + +<p>Christian stood stock-still, with an unseeing +stare, till the old man called back to him, +'Come on, just to lend a hand up this pitch.' +Then he ran after, and so eagerly bore, that +one spoke he broke.</p> + +<p>On the level he said, strangely breathless, +'Now I want payment.'</p> + +<p>'What! A great hulking fellow can't go +two steps out of his way and lift a hand for +one with old age in his bones but he asks +payment!'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Christian, 'and for the love +of God, give me the payment I shall ask.'</p> + +<p>'No promise, but what's your asking?'</p> + +<p>'Give me berries of the rowan.'</p> + +<p>With his sour grin the old fellow muttered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +'Well, well, no wits after all!' as he plucked +some bunches and chucked them across.</p> + +<p>'More! more! and oh! quick; I lose time. +See, fill up my cap.'</p> + +<p>'All you can't have. My brats have been +promised their handfuls, and want you may.'</p> + +<p>When all that entreaty could get he had, +Christian parted at a run, and the way he took +was home.</p> + +<p>Rhoda wondered, seeing him pass the window. +Presently, laying aside resentment, she +went out to seek him in the linhay. The +door resisted her hand.</p> + +<p>'Christian,' she called, and after his answer, +'Come in. What are you about? Bring in +your work; there is fire still.'</p> + +<p>He said 'No' so forcibly, that she went +away aggrieved, and a little curious.</p> + +<p>All was very quiet; of Lois she heard and +saw nothing, and Christian made no noise at +all. She wondered if he too were engaged in +prayer; she wondered if she ought also to be +so devoted.</p> + +<p>From the window she saw two figures on the +road, and watched them idly. They neared, +and from the opposite approach came two +others. All four were known to her by sight, +though hailing from some distance; they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +kin to Philip; two were father and son, two +were brothers. At the gate they stood, and +turned in.</p> + +<p>Rhoda's heart dropped as she guessed their +errand. To her a word from Christian were +enough; but what solemnest oath, what evidence +short of Philip's self, would convince these?</p> + +<p>They were knocking, while still her countenance +was out of command; and when they asked +for Christian, her wits were so troubled, that +she said lamely, 'It is Christmas Eve; can you +want him now?</p> + +<p>'Wait then—I will go—wait here, and he +will come.'</p> + +<p>When she passed out and turned the wall, +she knew by the sound of feet that two had +started to go about the contrary way to make +against any escape. At the linhay door she +knocked, again getting an impatient answer.</p> + +<p>'Christian, come out, or let me in. You +must.'</p> + +<p>He came out and closed the door, keeping +his hand upon it while she told.</p> + +<p>'I cannot come. Go, say I cannot come; I +will not!' and desperately impatient his hand +beat upon the door.</p> + +<p>'You must,' she said, and her white face +and shaking voice went far to convince him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +'I think you must. O Christian, don't you +know why they come?'</p> + +<p>He looked at her blankly.</p> + +<p>'To ask after Philip.'</p> + +<p>His face burned red, and he stood dumfoundered.</p> + +<p>'You know? From my mother?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' she said. 'No,' she said. 'I thought +that first, and told her. Oh! why did she not +tell you all when she would not let me confess? +Yes, I thought that, and O wretch that I was! +I thought no blame either. Now hate me, and +never forgive me.'</p> + +<p>He also said, 'I have nothing to forgive'; +and half audibly he groaned, 'Ah, Christ! is +there no forgiveness of sins?'</p> + +<p>Footsteps made them turn to see two rounding +the linhay; and again, footsteps behind brought +two after Rhoda, impatient of delay. None of +the four from that moment judged Christian to +be innocent, nor Rhoda wholly ignorant: their +looks so bespoke guilt and apprehension.</p> + +<p>Some touch of resentment at the intolerant +intrusion set Christian's head high, and his +eyes were not to be daunted as he measured +each for strength of will and strength of body. +He knew them for the pick of Philip's kin; +all were of the League.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Say why you come,' said Christian.</p> + +<p>'Bid me stay,' whispered Rhoda, though +she saw that her presence hindered a ready +answer; but Christian bade her go, and reluctantly +she withdrew.</p> + +<p>Out of earshot she went, but no further than +to the gate. There she leaned, and tried to +keep her face averted, but against resolution +now and then her head would turn to better +her heart. Uncloaked, in the cold she shivered, +and from apprehension.</p> + +<p>'Concerning our kinsman Philip,' began the +eldest.</p> + +<p>His colour went and came for witness +against him.</p> + +<p>'Speak low,' he said, glancing at a near +window, 'lest my mother hear,' and at that +a second score went down against his innocence.</p> + +<p>'You put to sea with him; you came back +alone. Where is he?'</p> + +<p>In his haste Christian answered to more than +was asked.</p> + +<p>'Alive he was when I saw him last. Where +he now is I know little as you.'</p> + +<p>The youngest put in a word. 'Alive! But +was any plank under him? Will you take +your oath that he was alive and safe, and +unhurt by you?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> + +<p>At that red guilt flew over his face, for he +could not.</p> + +<p>Another turn of words might give him a +chance, but he had no skill to play for it. +The imposition of an oath he might not resent +with his old high claim: a promise had been +broken, though they knew not, and his head +sank for shame. That, with his brief pause, +sealed conviction.</p> + +<p>One muttered, 'Now I would not believe +him though he swore'; but the other three +frowned silence upon him, the spokesman +saying, 'We do require an oath before we +ask further.'</p> + +<p>No protest did he offer to hinder a quick +despatch. He uttered the form prescribed, +though conscience and pride alike took +deep wounds of it. Afterwards it was told +against him how his countenance worked, as +for the first time an oath had been forced +upon him.</p> + +<p>'Now be speedy,' said Christian, 'for I have +little leisure or list to bide.'</p> + +<p>At that crass speech something of grim +smiling hardly kept to concealment.</p> + +<p>'Is Philip alive?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' he said, 'if he be not dead,' an +answer that angered them. 'God knows';<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +then he said, 'I have no cause to think him +dead.'</p> + +<p>'You saw him last alive and like to live?'</p> + +<p>'More like to live than I.'</p> + +<p>'Where, then, did you leave him?'</p> + +<p>'I may not say. I am pledged to silence.'</p> + +<p>'How pledged? To whom?'</p> + +<p>'To Philip.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, we know; but we all are of the +League.'</p> + +<p>'None were excepted; "not to a soul," he +said.'</p> + +<p>'He, speaking for the League, meant to not +a soul beside.'</p> + +<p>'I mean to the League no less. So I think +did he.'</p> + +<p>A poor satisfaction was in standing to his +word against those who compelled him to an +oath.</p> + +<p>'Crack-brained devil——'</p> + +<p>'Lower!' Christian said, glancing anxiously +up at the window.</p> + +<p>'This is no case for foolery or brag. Out +of you we must have the whole truth, lief or +loath.'</p> + +<p>His stubborn face said no. To no man on +earth could he tell the whole truth, nor, were +that possible, would it be believed; less than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +the whole doomsday truth could scarce +make his own outrageous act comprehensible.</p> + +<p>'Philip may tell you, but not I,' he said +witlessly. And as he spoke and looked at +these four, it came upon him that he might +not long outlive Philip's telling of the tale, if +only by reason of that lurking thing uncertainly +seen. He clapped his hand upon the hidden +cross, as a perilous flash told how less cause +had set down a record that might not bear +the light. So close was he ever to the mouth +of hell.</p> + +<p>Live temper faded from his face, and it +settled to the old blank mildness that had been +lifting somewhat of late days.</p> + +<p>'Is he so mad?'</p> + +<p>'No, he shams.'</p> + +<p>'Leave fooling, and speak straight in a +matter of life and death.'</p> + +<p>'Oh! more—more than life and death. For +the love of God, make an end, and take a final +answer. I will tell no more; nor would the +most I know further you to Philip.'</p> + +<p>The comment of a vigorous curse checked +him there.</p> + +<p>'Hear me out. If you need but to know +how a venture went, I can tell you: well. If +you have other need of him that does not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +brook delay, I can but offer to serve you to +my best, for following and bringing him +again; whatever be the risk, I owe that to +him and you. Only this day I must have to +myself. I must, though I pay for it with the +rest of my life.'</p> + +<p>That preposterous offer took away breath. +Then an oath yelping high with derision above +anger brought Christian to entreat for his +mother's quiet.</p> + +<p>'Let us in here, then,' said one, and reached +to the latch behind him.</p> + +<p>Christian struck up his arm. 'No!' he +said, and barred the way.</p> + +<p>Instantly, moved by a prompt suspicion, the +four sprang out ready steel and swung one +way, ringing him in. At that, Christian realised +his desperate case. He blanched, and +sweat started. 'For life and death!' he said +hoarsely. 'O my God, my God!'</p> + +<p>Rhoda shot in between, and, voiceless from +fear and speed, clung to Christian, presuming +her weakness to turn offence.</p> + +<p>'Cowards!' she panted, 'four against one, and +he empty-handed. What—why? Christian?'</p> + +<p>'You would do well to counsel your madman +to give way and let us pass, if he care +greatly for the quiet of any there within.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>Christian yielded. He lifted the latch and +thrust the door open, standing aside that they +might pass him by; but two linked arm with +him, walked him in, and held him a prisoner. +He did not offer to resist. Rhoda pressed +after him close; the last to enter closed and +bolted the door.</p> + +<p>Puzzled silence fell. Not a corner of the +bare place could harbour suspicion. Some +tools were ranged against the walls; twine and +canvas and common oddments lay there, a +small enough show of garden store, and of fuel +a pile pitifully low. A stool overthrown told +of Christian's last hasty rising; on a bench lay +his cap, half filled with scarlet berries, and +strung berries were spread beside. Four blank +countenances were turned upon him, whose +looks were sullen and guilty like a criminal's +taken in the act. Rhoda, bewildered, owned +to her sinking heart that here showed such +vagary of his wits as passed her reckoning.</p> + +<p>'You were best away, Rhoda.'</p> + +<p>'I will not go,' she said, 'except I be thrust +out.'</p> + +<p>None urged for that rough kindness now, +having gone so far; her presence might even +turn to account, for it must lie with the Alien +to spare her distress.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p> + +<p>The prisoner took up question.</p> + +<p>'The League has charged you to be +judges?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'To give sentence?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'To execute it?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>Christian grew as white as a coward; he +went on steadily nevertheless.</p> + +<p>'You are charged to do murder.'</p> + +<p>'To do justice.'</p> + +<p>'Without any proof that Philip is dead.'</p> + +<p>'Lack of proof that he is alive comes to the +same as the case stands.'</p> + +<p>No lie would now avail of Philip lost overboard. +In the stress of clear thinking for +his life he felt relief that he could not be +so tempted to damn his fair cause before +Heaven.</p> + +<p>'He will return,' he muttered, 'but too late, +for me too late.'</p> + +<p>'Christian, they dare not,' gasped Rhoda; +'no, you dare not, for Philip will return to +confound you. Should he return—too late—then +may God have no mercy on your souls.'</p> + +<p>Christian said 'Amen' to that.</p> + +<p>The spokesman turned to Rhoda.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You speak positively: can you bear witness +in his favour?'</p> + +<p>'I know nothing—nothing.'</p> + +<p>'Yet have you shown singular quickness of +apprehension.'</p> + +<p>She looked piteously at Christian, galled by +remorse.</p> + +<p>'Oh me! Must I say?'</p> + +<p>'Why not? None here will blame you. I +cannot.'</p> + +<p>So Rhoda faltered out how she too had +entertained a wicked suspicion.</p> + +<p>'What evidence then routed it?'</p> + +<p>'His.'</p> + +<p>'His evidence?'</p> + +<p>'His denial.'</p> + +<p>Her sincerity was beyond question; her +simplicity commanded respect; no ingenuity +could have spoken better to his credit. Yet +all was vain.</p> + +<p>'Bare denial may not suffice for us, when +furthermore without valid cause he has refused +any clear statement to satisfy a reasonable +demand, and quibbled and defied.'</p> + +<p>'Give me a moment's grace,' pleaded +Christian, 'to make sure if I can go no +further.'</p> + +<p>He might take his time; but little he needed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +to gain conviction for despair; for he saw how +inevitably answer would beget question point +by point, till, again at bay, having traversed +ground bristling with hostile indications, he +must stand at yet worse disadvantage.</p> + +<p>Before his eyes, one, fingering in mere impatience, +took hold of the strung berries; at a +rough twitch some scattered. Christian, exasperated, +plucked for a free hand, and a +tightened grip set him struggling for one +instant with the natural indignation of young +blood at rude constraint. So well dreaded +was his strength, that on a misconstruction +of his aim, every tool that might serve as a +weapon was caught up and thrust hastily from +the window, while more of the rowan danced +down. Balked the Alien seemed, resisting +no longer, and sweating, shaking, choking, +with eyes miserably wet with rage. But +Rhoda, who had watched his face, turned, and +gathering all the berries loose and strung, laid +them safe from handling.</p> + +<p>'God bless you, dear!' he said; and so she +knew that she had guessed right, and so she +could not doubt but his wits had fallen again +to their old infirmity.</p> + +<p>He had ended patience and grace when a +gleam of hope came.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It must be within your knowledge,' he +said, 'who last saw him with me.'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'Then this I may say—he and Philip went +together when we parted company.'</p> + +<p>'That too we had thought to be possible.'</p> + +<p>Christian recognised an ominous note, and +the hostile faces he saw more dark and grim.</p> + +<p>'Speak out!' he cried; 'what is it you +think?' Yet half he knew; yet quite he knew. +'Speak out! Do you dare think I have betrayed +them?'</p> + +<p>'We have little doubt. Traitor, thrice over +traitor, the League's account with you is overdue.'</p> + +<p>He laughed out savagely.</p> + +<p>'Now, devils that you are you show, that +bring a false accusation, since well you know +that once only have I been on a venture.'</p> + +<p>'Well we know how two ventures before +failed—well-planned ventures. Now we know +how you have played the fool and the spy +together. Two times have you been gone, no +man knew where; over a day gone, and not at +sea. Will you say now where you went?'</p> + +<p>He despaired, and did not answer, while +Rhoda's glance wavered consciously. At last +he said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Though I myself can make no defence, in +due time I cannot fail to be cleared—of murder +and treason. I cannot wait. This day I want; +I must be free on any terms. No terms? +But hear! I claim judgment instantly, this +hour. Men, you dare not give it. Then I +claim the judgment of God. I will fight it +out. Choose your place and pick your man,—nay, +any two. What? Cowards! three, all +four together, but forgo your knives or lend +me one.'</p> + +<p>'Fight you may, but the place shall be here, +and the odds against you, as you see.'</p> + +<p>The door was fast, and the six within +stood close in the limited space; he was held +at disadvantage, and weaponless, against choice +men prepared. Also he cared for two women.</p> + +<p>'Oh!' he cried, shaken and white with +fury, 'I must, I must have one day. With +what but my life may I purchase? Is it cheap, +think you? As you hope for heaven by +mercy, deal with me. Only one day! By +this hour to-morrow, if I breathe, I surrender. +I will swear to it by any form you will. Make +harder conditions, and I take them. All my +life-days after would I engage to set this day +free. What more can a man offer than his +life for lending or ending?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> + +<p>His face and voice were so dreadful to +Rhoda's heart, that she could not brook the +limits of reason.</p> + +<p>'Mine! Christian, you have mine. You +will not refuse; you will let him go, for I will +be his surety.'</p> + +<p>'This is folly.'</p> + +<p>'It is not. Is it not enough? I—life—honour, +in pledge for him. O Christian, +you cannot gainsay, else you dishonour your +own purpose.'</p> + +<p>'We are plain men who are dealing for +justice. An innocent girl cannot be substitute +for a traitor all but proved, whom, moreover, +the League needs for a better information.'</p> + +<p>Still Rhoda tried protests.</p> + +<p>'Girl, are you out of your senses too? dishonest +too? Can you state any circumstance +to justify this urgency for a day's grace? Failing +that, well we can guess what he would do +with it. It is somewhat barefaced.'</p> + +<p>Christian checked her answering, and owned +defeat.</p> + +<p>'Give over now,' he said. 'An hour have +I wasted fighting over losing ground. You +have gained all along, and I know it. In +every way you have the advantage. Say now, +what will you do with it?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You surrender?'</p> + +<p>'No. By your force, not by my will, shall +liberty go. Quit words and be doing. No: +what then?'</p> + +<p>'Consider that the odds are against your +taking boat alive were a hint out of your foul +dealing with the League. Yet if you promise +resistance we have no choice but to hale you +an open prisoner. Have you a mind to face +stones?'</p> + +<p>Rhoda's scared looks drew one to assure +her, that were Christian free from guilt, his +cause could not miscarry at their hands, unless +by his own intemperance; therefore should she +persuade him to voluntary submission. He +groaned in miserable despair.</p> + +<p>'I yield, but only till these stringent conditions +be passed. Dispose with me as you +will, and I submit—yes, absolutely—yes; but +for a time only. A limited term; for one +half-hour? More I will not, and look you +after. I cannot surrender my will to be free +this day.'</p> + +<p>Likely enough it was out of pity for the +girl that his offer was taken. Against suspicion +of some reservation he was constrained +to swear faith under dictation; also the order +of his going was ruled minutely, with warning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +that the lifting of a hand unallowed would be +instantly fatal. 'Be doing—be doing quickly,' +he said, and the bolt was drawn.</p> + +<p>Christian turned to stay Rhoda, who came +following, and the four men, with fine consideration, +passed out first, letting the door +swing to on the unhappy pair. Their eyes +met, poor souls, with miserable consciousness +that a barrier of reserve thwarted solace.</p> + +<p>'Keep heart, dear,' he said; and bravely +tearless she echoed him.</p> + +<p>'But, oh!' she said, 'be patient, and not +rash, for the sake of those who love you.'</p> + +<p>'O Rhoda, Rhoda! you do not know. I +have a work this night. I think—I know it +was meant for me. By Heaven, I think. My +own sins have risen up against me now. They +thwart. Hell itself striving against me has +advantage by them. There must be some +way. But I cannot see it. There must be! +Oh! I cannot be condemned through turning +back on an amended hope. So Heaven-sent +I blessed it. No way—no way!'</p> + +<p>Muttering, he reached over to the rowan and +absently fingered it, while Rhoda urged on +him what she knew of reason. He turned on +her a musing look.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda, will you help me?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh, tell me to: never ask.'</p> + +<p>'Take the rowan, and finish what I was +about.'</p> + +<p>She broke down at last, and turned away in +such a passion of sobbing as owned desertion +of hope.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda! You desert me, Rhoda!' in so +broken a voice he said, that against all sense +she cried: 'But I will! Yes, yes; trust me, I +will!' and could not after retract when she saw +his face.</p> + +<p>'I am not mad,' he said; 'look at me: I am +not.' And with that she knew not how to +reconcile evidence.</p> + +<p>'Be speedy against my return.'</p> + +<p>'Is it possible? How?' she whispered.</p> + +<p>'As God wills, I cannot know; but some +way will show, must show.'</p> + +<p>Again she entreated against temerity, and +for answer he taught her of a lonely spot, +asking her to carry the threaded rowan there, +and to wait his coming. 'If I do not come,' +he said, 'I shall be——'</p> + +<p>'Not dead!' she breathed.</p> + +<p>'Oh, damned and dead,' he said.</p> + +<p>'It cannot be. No. Yet, O Christian, +should any harm befall you, avenged you shall +be. Yes. No law can serve us here efficient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +against the tyranny of the League; but if in +all the land high places of justice be, there will +I go, and there denounce the practice of such +outrage and wrong. Those four, they shall +not escape from account. For that I will live—ay, +even hazard living—I know.'</p> + +<p>'You will not,' ordered Christian; 'for I +myself freely have served the League, and have +taken payment. And these four mean to deal +justly; and I have no right to complain.'</p> + +<p>A hint of impatience sounded against the +door, and Christian, with a last word enjoining +secrecy, turned and lifted the latch. A forlorn +sob complained. He caught both her hands +in his.</p> + +<p>'Dear heart, dear hands, a farewell were +misdoubt,' he said, and on brow and hands he +crossed her. 'A human soul shall bless your +faithful doing.'</p> + +<p>He loosed and left her. She saw the door's +blank exchange for him; she heard the brisk +departure of feet; away fled the spurious confidence +she had caught in his presence, and +desolate and despairing, blind and choked with +grief, she cursed her own folly and bewailed +his.</p> + +<p>When she took up her lunatic task the red +berries like told beads registered one by one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +prayer too like imprecation, for sure she was +that the strange-named woman stirred at the +heart of this coil. In heats of exasperation she +longed to scatter and crush the rowan; yet the +thread crept on steadily through her hands, +inch by inch, till that misery was over.</p> + +<p>Then it pleased her grief to bring out +her own best scarf for enfolding. 'So I +further him to her,' she said; 'so I fashion +some love-token between them.' As soft-foot +she went for it, outside a fastened door she +stood to listen. She heard the low mutter of +petition, and jealous resentment sprang up +against a monopoly by the dead of the benefit +of prayer, so wanted by the living.</p> + +<p>As she stood, a patch of calm sea shone into +her eyes through a narrow light; and from +the frame, small as a beetle, moved a boat +rowing across. Five men she counted, and +she made out that the second rower was the +biggest. So had he entirely surrendered. All +hopeless she turned away to fulfil her promise.</p> + +<p>At that moment Christian was speaking.</p> + +<p>'I take it, the time is now up.'</p> + +<p>By a mile of engirding sea the prospect of +escape looked so vain that one joined assent +with a fleer. Placid as the sea's calm was the +Alien's countenance, and he pulled on steadily.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +The leader from the helm leaned forward to +regard him fixedly, finding his tranquillity consonant +only with imperfect wits.</p> + +<p>'You think better of resistance, nevertheless?'</p> + +<p>'Truly I do,' he answered. 'I think better +of resistance now,' and in his eyes was no +reading of resentment or anxiety.</p> + +<p>His glance turned with his thoughts to distinguish +the roof that covered his mother and +Rhoda. Dear heart, cried his, do your part +and I will mine.</p> + +<p>Rhoda by then was doing after her own +thought and liking. Though fasting herself, +poor child, that on the morrow the board +might be the better spread, for Christian she +was lavish. Wine she took that Giles had not +lived to drink; of griddle cakes the best she +chose, and also of figs from those she summer-time +ago had gathered and dried. Then she +wound the silly rowan in brown moss, knotted +it up in her scarf, and cloaked herself, and +went out on her fool's errand.</p> + +<p>Some miles to the west, on the edge of waste, +stood a landmark of three trees, and near by, +off the path, a furze-stack. Thither by devious +ways of caution came Rhoda on the first wane +of daylight, and having done all, faced the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +drear without heart, crouching into shelter of +the furze.</p> + +<p>Poorly clad for such a vigil, thin from days +of want, fasting, exhausted by excitement and +grief, she had no strength left to bear bravely +any further trial. Though Christian's desperate +emphasis stood out to bar despair, she told +herself his coming was impossible, and her +spirit quailed in utter cowardice as she realised +her own outlook. She was afraid of the night, +and her engagement had taken no limit of time. +Should the dreaded ice-wind of the season rise, +there were peril to life; but her heart died +under a worse terror, that increased as waste and +tree bulked large and shapeless under drawing +dark. For was it not the Eve of Christmas, +when the strict limitations of nature were so +relaxed that things inanimate could quit station, +and very beasts speak like men, and naked +spirits be clothed with form. Her mortal +senses were averse. With desperate desire for +relief she scanned the large through the longest +hour of her life.</p> + +<p>Night was in the valleys, but on the uplands +twilight still, when against the sky a runner +came. He, dear saviour.</p> + +<p>But his footsteps made no sound; but he +showed too white. Doubt of agony that this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +was not he in human flesh froze her, till he +came and stood, and not seeing her close +crouched, uttered his heart in a sound dreadful +to hear.</p> + +<p>'Here, here!' cried Rhoda, and had her +hands on him before her eyes had fairly +realised him. He was mostly naked.</p> + +<p>Coatless, shirtless, unshod, his breeks and +his hair clung damp, showing by what way he +had come free. She held him, and laughed and +sobbed.</p> + +<p>'You have it?' he said. 'Give it here—give +it.'</p> + +<p>'This also—this first. Drink—eat.'</p> + +<p>'No; I cannot stay.'</p> + +<p>'You shall—you must,' she urged. 'Do +you owe me nothing? What, never a +word?'</p> + +<p>He declined impatience to her better counsel; +and when he had got the rowan and belted it +safe, to the praise of her providence he drank +eagerly and ate.</p> + +<p>Rhoda spied a dark streak on his shoulder. +'You are hurt—oh!'</p> + +<p>'Only skin-deep. Salt water stanched it.'</p> + +<p>'And what of them? Christian, what have +you done?' she asked with apprehension.</p> + +<p>'Yes; I have a charge for you. Oh, their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +skins are whole all. Can you step on with me +a pace? You will not be afraid?'</p> + +<p>She looked at the wan south-west, and the +sable heath, and the stark trees; but she could +answer now: 'No,' stoutly and truly, and +shiver for fear only. He withheld his pace +for her, she stretched to a stride for him.</p> + +<p>'Well done, I know,' she said, 'but tell me +how.'</p> + +<p>He gave a meagre tale, but many a detail +she heard later to fill it out. It was easy doing +according to Christian, when time and place +suited, to beat out a rib of the boat, to stand +his ground for a moment while the sea accomplished +for him, then to drop overboard when +blades struck too quick and close. The boat +went down, he said, near three miles from shore.</p> + +<p>'O Christian! are any drowned?'</p> + +<p>'No, no. I had done my best by them. +You know how the Tortoises lie. We were +well within a furlong of them. I got there +first, and was doffed and ready when they +came, waiting to offer them fair. Rhoda, +you will carry word of this that some fellows +may go to take them off.'</p> + +<p>'Not I,' she said vindictively; 'let them +wear the night there for due quittance.'</p> + +<p>'No. They might be perished. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +'twas I counselled them not to attempt the +shore, and said I could send word of their +plight; and I meant it honestly, though the +fools grew so mad at that, that they took to +stoning.'</p> + +<p>When, later, Rhoda heard the tale more fully, +it showed elements of incongruous comedy; +later still, she heard it grown into monstrous +proportions, when the name of the Tortoises +was put aside, and the place was known as the +Devil's Rocks thenceforward. The Alien's +feats that day, his mighty stroke staving the +boat, his swimming of marvellous speed, his +confidence and temerity, were not passed on to +his credit: adverse was the interpretation, and +he never lived it down.</p> + +<p>'Tell me, Christian, where you will be, and +how we are to get news of you till you dare +return.'</p> + +<p>'Dare return! If I be not dead, that will I +to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>She cried out against such insanity.</p> + +<p>'You must not. It is wicked with a foolhardy +parade to torment us—your mother.'</p> + +<p>'Have no fear, dear. If I come again, it +will be with joy, bearing my sheaves.'</p> + +<p>She could put an interpretation on his words +that loaded her heart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Rhoda, dear sister, I owe you much this +day, and now I will ask for one thing more.'</p> + +<p>She said 'Yes,' though foreboding ordeal. +It was a minute before he spoke.</p> + +<p>'Will you pray for us?'</p> + +<p>Poor heart, how could she? Anything but +that.</p> + +<p>'What worth are the prayers of such an one +as I? Desire rather your mother's prayers.'</p> + +<p>'She for another cause will be praying the +night through. Will you do as much for +us?'</p> + +<p>He stopped her, for she did not speak, and +held her by the shoulders, trying to see her face +to get answered.</p> + +<p>'O Rhoda, will you not pray for us?'</p> + +<p>She made her answer singular. 'I will pray +for thee'; but his greater want overcame her +into ending: 'and—for Diadyomene.'</p> + +<p>He stood stock-still and gripped her hard +when that name came, but he asked nothing. +'I will, I will,' she whispered; and then he kissed +her brow and said: 'God bless you.' She +flung her arms round his neck without reserve; +her cheek lay against his bare breast, and +because she felt a cross there she dared to turn +her lips and kiss. He gathered her to close +embrace, so that swept from her feet she lay in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +his arms rapt for one precious instant from all +the world.</p> + +<p>When he had set her on her feet, when he +had blessed her many times, she clung to him +still, heaving great sobs, till he had to pluck +away her hands.</p> + +<p>'Yes, go,' she said. 'I will pray for you +both,' and down she knelt straightway.</p> + +<p>'God be with you.'</p> + +<p>'God be with you.'</p> + +<p>He passed from her into the darkness, away +from sorrows she knew to some unknown. +Rhoda, flung prostrate, wept bitterly, rending +her heart for the getting of very prayer for +that unknown woman, her bane.</p> + +<p>Too little thought Christian, though he +loved her well, of her who so faithfully went +on his bidding, trudging wearily on to make +good his word, kneeling afterwards through +the long hours in prayer that was martyrdom. +If the value of prayer lie in the cost, hers that +night greatly should avail.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<p>Late knocking came importunate to the House +Monitory. One went to the wicket and looked +out. Her light, convulsed, for an instant +abetted a delusion that he who stood knocking +outside was Christ Himself with the signs +of His Passion: unclothed was the man she +saw, bloodstained, both head and hands. Then +she noted fair hair, and had to believe that +this haggard man was one with the brave-faced +boy of earliest summer. He clung to +the ledge for support; so spent was he that +a word was hard to compass.</p> + +<p>'For the love of God,' he said, 'you who +are watchers to-night pray for a human soul in +sore need.'</p> + +<p>She would vouch for that; she would summon +one with authority to vouch for more.</p> + +<p>When she carried word within: ''Tis the +same,' said one, 'who twice has left fish at +the gate, who slept once at the feet of St. +Margaret.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>To the wicket went the head monitress, and, +moved to compassion by the sight of his great +distress, she gave him good assurance that +not the five watchers only, but one and all, +should watch and pray for him that night, +and she asked his name for the ordering of +prayer.</p> + +<p>'Not mine!' he said. 'I ask your prayers +for another whose need is mine. Pray for her +by the name Diadyomene.'</p> + +<p>He unfastened the cross from his neck and +gave it.</p> + +<p>'This is a pledge,' he said, 'I would lay out +of my weak keeping for St. Mary, St. Margaret, +and St. Faith to hold for me, lest to-night I +should desire I had it, to be rid of it finally +according to promise.'</p> + +<p>He had not made himself intelligible; clearer +utterance was beyond him.</p> + +<p>'No matter!' he said. 'Take it—keep it—till +I come again.'</p> + +<p>He knotted the empty string again to his +neck, and, commended to God, went his way.</p> + +<p>Now when these two, little later, asked of +each other, 'What was the strange name he +gave?' neither could remember it. But they +said 'God knows,' and prayed for that nameless +soul.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>Somehow Christian got down the cliffs to +the shore, as somehow he had come all the +way. Little wonder head and hands showed +bloody: every member was bruised and torn, +for he had stumbled and gone headlong a score +of times in his desperate speed over craggy +tracks, where daylight goings needed to be +wary. Scarcely could hoofed creatures have +come whole-foot, and he, though of hardy +unshod practice, brought from that way not an +inch sound under tread. An uncertain moon +had favoured him at worst passes, else had he +fallen to certain destruction.</p> + +<p>He stood at the sea's edge and paused to get +breath and courage. To his shame, he was +deficient in fortitude: the salt of the wet +shingle bit his feet so cruelly, that he shrank +at the prospect of intensified pain through all +the innumerable wounds he bore. He saw +exposed a pitiful, unstable wretch, with a body +drained of strength and nerve, and a spirit +servile to base instances. In desperate spite he +plunged and swam.</p> + +<p>He had ever waited for an outgoing tide; +he had ever taken a daylight tide; now for his +sins he had night and the flood against him. +But still the moon blessed him. Delusions +beset him that pains of his body came from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +the very teeth of sea-creatures, too fierce and +many for him to cope with, crowding, dragging, +gnawing hard at his life. For ease a passive +moment and a little painful, airless sobbing +would suffice: soonest, best. And had the +pale moon darkened, he had gone under as at +a supreme command, to such depravity and +destitution were come his vital instincts. But, +her light holding him alive, by hard degrees +he won his way, till, for the last time, he +stood upon the Isle Sinister.</p> + +<p>But when he had made his way through the +narrow gorge, and trod sand, the moon was +dark, and night fell upon his heart. He dared +not call, and neither sight nor sound granted +him assurance of Diadyomene's presence. +Wanting her footprints to tell she had passed +in, he feared lest he should be barring her very +entrance. He fell down and prayed, being +without resource.</p> + +<p>And Lois was praying, and Rhoda with +bitter tears, and the House Monitory with the +ring of its bells. Very faint was the moan of +the sea in their ears.</p> + +<p>Slowly, slowly, the blessed moon stepped out, +and lifted him up and delivered to his sight +the track of light feet set from seaward—one +track only. In haste, by the wavering light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +of the moon, he laid out the threaded rowan +and weighted one end against the rock. The +whole length extended came short of the +further wall by about two feet.</p> + +<p>He rallied from the momentary shock, +resolving that he himself could stand in the +gap to bar passage.</p> + +<p>No form nor motion could he discern +within his range as in slow scrutiny his eyes +sought her from side to side. He lighted on +despair; the entrance to the cavern had escaped +his providence.</p> + +<p>In the dark he went to the low arch, and +felt about the sand inch by inch for the dint +of her feet. Naught could he find. Yet +what did it profit him that she had not +yet passed? To drop prone on the sand +was his poor conclusion, abandoned to +despair.</p> + +<p>He was but cast back on the morning's +portion, then of fair sufficiency, but now oh! +meagre, meagre, compared to the ripe hope +that had come of nourishment strange and +opportune as manna from heaven. Then had +he incurred to no purpose expense of blood +and sweat and anguish of body and mind, +nay, brought to the crucial hour such an +appalling deficiency.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>To contest a human soul with powers of +darkness required perfect steadfastness of +will and faith; lost, lost, with mere self-control +lost in a useless barter that left +him now a clod of effete manhood, with +just life enough for groaning pain. Before +conflict was he vanquished. Diadyomene +need but come with a word of anger or +derision to break him into childish sobbings.</p> + +<p>Yet driven to last extremity, such man's +strength as remained to him might prevail +in sanctified violence for the winning of a +soul. He would hold her by the feet; his +hands were bloody, but he would hold her +by the feet; should he have to cling round +her, he would not hurt; meek and gentle +could he be, though fury should set her to +such savage handling as a woman's strength +may compass.</p> + +<p>To win a human soul? O wretched piece +of clay, not that! The mere thought of +contact with Diadyomene, close contact with +her, cool, soft, naked there in the cold dark, +swept the bright delirium of sea-magic over +him again, stung his blood to a burning fever, +set him writhing as pain had never. At the +fiery blast, in this nadir hour the place of pure +love was assaulted and taken by base lust; his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +desire was most strong, not for the winning +of a human soul, but for the wicked winning +of a human body, ay, maugre her will—any +way.</p> + +<p>Yet, oh for the fair way of her favour! +Had she not allowed him very gracious hints?—'lay +your hand upon my breast, set your +lips to mine.' Thrice she had said it—once +when a touch on her hand had brought +magical vision, once at her kindest, once +at her cruelest. Though her command was +against him, though her anger might not be +overpast, a hope kindled that dread of the +dark hour of her fate might urge her to +his arms, there to find such gladness and +consolation as might leave no place for horror +to come into possession.</p> + +<p>'And give up your soul.' Thrice too had +that been said. He was loath to give it +remembrance, but it entered, whenever faint +bells tolled on his ear it entered.</p> + +<p>Very strangely, while good and evil fought +equal-handed for his will, he perceived that his +body had risen to hands and knees, and was +going forward very fitly like a beast. All +round the cold dark began to burn. A boulder +lay athwart his course, and then very strangely +he was aware that his arms had fastened round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +it with convulsive strength, and brow and +breast were wounded against it. He could +not take possession to end this disgraceful +treason; all that was left to him was to rescue +integrity at least by undoing the knot at his +neck.</p> + +<p>Then prevailed the blessed guile of Lois. +The trivial exaction brought her son face to +face with her, with her sorrows, with her +prayers, and the mere communion of love set +him praying frantically, and so brought him to +himself again.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i2">We beseech, we beseech, we beseech:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lord God for my unbaptized!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Dear Christ for Christian's Diadyomene!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Blessed Trinity and all Saints for a nameless soul in sore need!</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Vile, vile indeed, were he to desert a holy +alliance.</p> + +<p>There where the token had lain on his breast +cross-edges of the boulder were wounding, and +strange human nature turning ravenous to any +gross substitution of fires, seized with wild +energy on the ecstasy of pain, till the rock +cut to the bone, while the whole boulder +seemed to stir. In nowise might the cross be +cast aside: it was kept against his will in holy +ward; it was printed indelibly in his flesh.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> + +<p>The very boulder had stirred. Then hope +rose up as a tyrant, for he had fallen spent +again. Spirit was weak and flesh was weak, +and it were task hard out of measure to heave +that boulder from its bed and set it up to +block the low entrance; and useless, when at a +sight or a sound Diadyomene were away fleet +foot to the sea.</p> + +<p>And yet he felt about, set feet and shoulder +for an arch of strength, and strained with great +hefts; and again the mass seemed to stir. He +dropped down, trenched painfully round, and +tried again till his sinews cracked. Nor in +vain: with a reluctant sob its bed of sand gave +up the stubborn rock, and as it rolled endlong +a devil that had urged excuse went from +Christian. Foot after foot he fought that +dreadful weight along the sand, right up to the +cleft, right across the cleft he forced it. Not +yet had he done enough; for he could feel +that as the boulder lay, there was space for a +slim body to press across and win the cavern. +To better the barrier by a few poor inches, this +way and that he wrung his wearied body and +broke flesh; and to no purpose. 'Except +my bones break, I will.' He grappled +strenuously; a little give responded. He +set his feet closer in, and lifted again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +mightily, and the boulder shifted, poised onward +to settle.</p> + +<p>Who struck? Death.</p> + +<p>Nerveless, he swayed with the rock, on +a motion its own weight consummated, +agape, transfixed by the wonder of living +still.</p> + +<p>Fresh, horrible pain seized him by foot and +ankle, casting him down to tear up the sand, +to bite the sand, lest in agony he should go +shrieking like a woman.</p> + +<p>He writhed round to strike in the dark +at the senseless mass, in the madness of terror +and pain deeming the boulder itself had +moved with malignant intelligence, not merely +according to the preponderate laws that lift +the world. To him the presence of infernal +powers was manifest in this agent. +In foul warfare they held him fast by the +heel, and mocked the impotent spirit within +the bonds of flesh. The dark grew pregnant +with evil beings as he struggled to +swooning.</p> + +<p>Pray for us, faithful hearts, pray! In the +name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy +Ghost, for her service! Then he prevailed, +and out of the teeth of hell he wrenched his +heel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>Broken, crippled, strengthless, Christian +crawled over the sand to the spot where he +would die. Indistinguishable in the dark +was the furrow he left stained till the tide +should come: long before daylight broke the +tide would come up to smooth and whiten it. +He knew he was dying, and, touching the +ended rowan, rendered thanks that it was to +be there. All was nearly over, pain and a +foolish, arrogant hope on which he had staked +his life: presently, when he was dead, Diadyomene +would come, to overstep his body, +eluding there the toils. He misliked the +thought that her feet might go red from treading +him, and he stretched about weakly for +briny hollows along the rock to cleanse the +hot, slow oozing that chilled and stiffened into +long stripes.</p> + +<p>Why should he be gasping still, as breathless +as after his hardest race, as after his +mightiest heft? He required breath to help +endurance of thirst and exorbitant pain; air +could he gasp in, deep and free, and yet he +wanted for more.</p> + +<p>Why he should be dying, and how, Christian +did not know. Life's centre had been stricken +mortally quicker than a lightning-flash, too +subtly for the brain to register any pain, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +unmistakably he wondered only he was yet +alive. From breath to breath he awaited +another touch and a final, yet nothing lacked +for vital order save air, air, more air. At +short, merciful intervals he drifted out of the +range of any pain.</p> + +<p>On this his third death he did not so very +greatly shrink from passing out of the body to +stand before the face of his Maker. He +could not take up any meaning for prayer. +He was discarded from service; perfect +justice had tried him, judged him, and condemned +him as unfit. It was bitter for +him; but review of his finishing span of +life, its sin, failure, impotence, brought him +to acquiescence. 'Thine is the kingdom, and +the power, and the glory' was all he had of +prayer.</p> + +<p>The apprehension of each human principle +was straitened, by darkness about him, by pain +in strong possession, by recognition of death +closing in. As visitants to his heart from +some far-distant sphere came Rhoda, Lois, +Diadyomene; they vanished away; he could +not keep them close—not even Diadyomene. +'Dear love, my love!'</p> + +<p>Through the dark she came.</p> + +<p>He rose to his knees, aware of a moving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +glimmer of grey, nearing, near. At her swift, +beautiful pace she made for the sea. Suddenly +she stood. He heard the catch of her breath; +swiftly the dim oval of her face was turned +to him; then away. She swayed back a step; +she swayed forward; hung a moment at poise +upright; reeled aside, and fled back into the +dark.</p> + +<p>Then Christian found he had yet strong +faculty for life. He had retained small +certainty that she had not long passed him +by; speculation had fallen faint. Lo! she +was here, controlled, and he not dead. +He could pray, for her and for a little life, +passionately.</p> + +<p>A low, bitter cry quivered through the dark +to his heart. Diadyomene had fled for a way +of escape, and found it barred. Soft rapids +were her feet; she came speeding full to leap +past. In vain; with a cry she flung up her +arms, revulsed irresistibly, swerved, and stood +stone-still. She moaned out long, agonised +sighs; she seemed to turn away in pride, +ignoring him; she seemed to face him +again, not defiant. He saw her hands outstretched +in appeal. 'What have you done?' +she said; 'what have you done?' and +then the woful complaint was changed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +wilder: 'What have I done? what have I +done?'</p> + +<p>He did not dare to speak, nor had he the +breath. He was weeping for her. But she, +not seeing, was stirred to wrath and fear by a +silence so cruel. To her height she rose above +the gasping, crouched shape, and her voice rang +hard and clear.</p> + +<p>'Stand away. Once you trespassed, and I +forgave you fully; twice, and I spared you; +this third time—get you gone quickly, and find +yourself some easy death before it be out of +reach.'</p> + +<p>Still he did not answer. Her fear outdid +her anger, and she stooped her pride.</p> + +<p>'Only be kind and true, and let me go,' +she implored, and knelt low as he. 'I let +you take my secret, and you turn it against +me treacherously. You plan a shameful snare, +you, you, whom I counted true as the sun. +To you, a bold, graceless stranger, I granted +life at the first; to you I gave the liberty +of my dearest haunt. Be just, and leave +me free in my own. Have pity, and let +me go. Woe and horror are coming upon +me to take me, awake and astray from the +comfort of the sea.' She moaned and sighed +piteously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> + +<p>His tears fell like rain for grief of his +doings, for bitter grief that he might not +comfort her.</p> + +<p>Because of a base alloy that had altered +sacred love he had to fear. He turned away +his head, panting and shaking, for pain and +thirst made almost unendurable a temptation +to stretch out his hand to hers, by the magic of +her touch to lose himself till death in a blissful +swoon.</p> + +<p>Her wail had in it the note of a deserted +child and of a desolate woman.</p> + +<p>'I am crying to you for pity and help, and +you turn away; I, who in the sea am regnant. +But late you cried to me when no mercy +and pardon were due, and I let you live. +And if then I judged you unheard and +wrongly, and if I condemned a breach of +faith over harshly, here kneeling I pray +you to forgive—I, who never bid vainly, +never ask vainly, of any living creature but +of you.'</p> + +<p>Christian only was weeping; Diadyomene +shed no tear, though her voice quivered +piteously.</p> + +<p>'Ah, my sea, my sea! Hark how it moans +to me, and cannot reach me! My birds fail +me, nestling afar—that you considered when you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +came by night. Undo, undo your cruel work, +and I will reproach you never.'</p> + +<p>His silence appalled her. 'Why should you +do this?' she cried. 'What would you have +of me? A ransom? Name it. The wealth of +the sea is mine to give; the magic of the sea +is mine. To all seas, to all sea-creatures, you +shall bear a charmed life henceforward, only +let me go.'</p> + +<p>He sobbed, 'But I die, I die!' but so +brokenly that the words failed at her ears.</p> + +<p>'Hear me,' she said; 'I make no reservation. +Ask what you will, and nothing, nothing +I can grant will I refuse—only quickly let me +go.'</p> + +<p>She was crouched before him, with her face +downward and hidden, as she moaned, and +moaned surrender. Presently she half lifted, +and her voice was at a lovely break between +grief and gladness.</p> + +<p>'Fool, dear ignorant fool, Diadyomenos, are +you blind? You have come to me often; have +I ever looked unglad? Have I wearied of you +soon? Have I failed you? Could you read into +that no favour from me, Diadyomene, who have +the sea to range? Can you wrong so my grace +to you in the past as to plan an extortion? +Ah, foolish, needless, empty wrong! Your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +eyes have been fair to me when they said what +your tongue would not. Speak now fair words, +since I cannot read your eyes. Dear hands, +reach out for mine, take them and draw me +out of the snare, and with gladness and shame +own it needless, as with gladness and pride +will I.'</p> + +<p>So vile a wretch she took him to be! and the +bitterness was that he might not disclaim. For +a moment he had fallen to that baseness; it +might be that only because life was going out +of him so fast was he past such purpose now. +A stupid 'No, no,' was all he could bring out.</p> + +<p>She sprang up at a bound, driven to fury. +She longed to strike with mere woman strength, +yet she dared not a contact, lest hers be the +disadvantage. With a shriek she fled back +into the dark, and he heard the dreadful +wailing cries wheeling away. Desperately he +prayed for himself and for her; for his pain +and an agony of pity were almost more than +he could bear.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she came upon him and stood +close. Her tone was changed.</p> + +<p>'At last,' she said, 'miserable creature, you +shall know the truth. You love me. I know +it well; I have known it long. And with all +my strength—I—hate you. Not for this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +night's treachery and insolence only; from the +first I hated you; and hatred has grown since +more bitter-strong, till your one life and body +seemed all too little to stay it. Ah! the love +I read in your eyes has been sweet sustenance. +So I waited and waited only for this: for love +of me to take deep hold of your heart, to be +dearer than life, before I plucked it up by +the roots; and to laugh in your face as I did +it, knowing it worse than any death. Oh! it +should have been by daylight. I would like to +see your face and your eyes now, and watch +your great body writhe—I think it does! +Why, laugh I must.</p> + +<p>'Can you fathom my hate by its doings? +You stood here first, glad, proud, strong in +your youth; but a few short weeks, and I had +turned all to ruin. Yes, I—I—only was your +bane, though I but watched, and laughed, and +whispered beneath my waters, and let you be +for the handling of your fellows. Truly my +hate has worked subtly and well, and even +beyond device; it has reached beyond you: +an old man treads the quay no more, and a girl +comes down to it grown pale and heavy-eyed, +and a woman ageing and greyer every time. +Think and know! You never shall see them +again; for a brief moment you check and defy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +me, but the entrance of the tide shall bring you +your death.</p> + +<p>'Now, I the while will plan the worst death +I may. You think you have faced that once +already? Fool! from to-morrow's dawn till +sunset I will teach you better. The foulest +creature of the deep shall take you again and +hold you helpless—but that is nothing: for +swarms shall come up from the sea, and from +twilight to twilight they shall eat you alive. +They shall gnaw the flesh from your limbs; +they shall pierce to the bone; they shall drill +you through and rummage your entrails. +And with them shall enter the brine to +drench you with anguish. And I, beside +you, with my fingers in your hair, will watch +all day, and have a care to lift your head +above the tide; and I will flick off the sea-lice +and the crays from your face and your +eyes, to leave them whole and clear and legible +to my hate at the last. And at the very last +I will lay my face down against yours, and +out of very pure hate will kiss you once—will +kiss you more than once, and will not tire +because you will so quicken with loathing. +Even in the death agony I mean you to know +my fingers in your hair. Ha! Agonistes.</p> + +<p>'And now you wish you had died on that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +moonlit, warm night long ago: and me it +gladdens to think I did not then cut you off +from the life to follow after, more bitter than +many quick deaths. And you wish I had +finished you outright in the late storm, that so +you might have died blissfully ignorant of the +whole truth: and I spared you only that you +should not escape a better torture that I had +contrived.</p> + +<p>'Ah! it has been a long delight to fool you, +to play my game with flawless skill. As I +choose a wear of pearls, so chose I graces +of love for adornment. Am I not perfect +now? What have I said of hatred and love? +No, no, all that is false. Because you scorn +the sea-life so dear to me, I try to keep hatred; +but it may not abide when you stand before me +and I look in your eyes—oh! slay it, slay it +quite with the touch of your lips. My love!' +her voice fell softly: 'My love, my love, my +love, my love!' She was chasing the word +along all the ranges of derision.</p> + +<p>She stood no more than a pace from him, +a flexile figure that poised and swung, to provoke +the wild beast in him to spring. Christian +never stirred nor spoke.</p> + +<p>'Would the moon but shine! I mean to +watch you when you die, but I think a better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +sight your face would be now than then. +How well it pleases me your eyes are grey! +Can grey eyes serve as well to show hate as +love? Ay, I shall laugh at that: to see in +them hate, hate like my own; but impotent +hate, not like mine. It hardly has dawned yet, +I guess, but it will; and presently be so strong +that the dearest joy left would be to have your +hand on my throat to finish my life. Do you +think I fear? I dare you, defy you! Ha! +Agonistes.'</p> + +<p>He did not come hurling upon her; he did +not by word or sign acknowledge her taunts.</p> + +<p>'Why, the night of my dread goes blithely +as never before. There is no bane left in it. +I have found an antidote.'</p> + +<p>She forced a laugh, but it went wild, strangled, +and fell broken. Again she fled back into the +dark, and, like a prisoned bird, circled frantic +for the sea that she could not reach. Far from +Christian, she halted and panted low: 'Not yet +have I failed, dear sea. Though love may not +prevail, nor hate, yet shall my song.'</p> + +<p>Though the incoming tide sounded near, +echo still carried the tolling of the bells. +For the knell of that passing soul fittest names +they bore out of all the Communion of Saints. +St. Mary! bitter dregs had his life to drain;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +St. Margaret! his pearl of the sea was lost in +deep waters; St. Faith! utter darkness was +about, and desperate striving could find no +light of Heaven; his life, his love, his God +forsook, rejected, disowned him.</p> + +<p>Loss or fear could not touch him any more, +for not one hope, one joy remained. From the +cruel havoc, calm, passionless wonder distilled, +and new proportions rose as his past came +before him to be measured anew: so tolerable +looked the worst of inflictions, a passing wrong, +forgivable, forgettable; so sorry looked the +best endurance, a wretched contortion, +defacing, deforming. Against Diadyomene not one +throb of passion stirred: she had broken his +heart outright, so that it had not true faculty +of life for any new growth. Strangely, to his +wonder, under this her doing, the old derangement +passed away, and the way of loving-kindness +to all men showed clear. Too late! +Never in this life could he meet his fellows +with good, quiet blood, and frank eyes, and +wholesome laughter, unafraid, simply acknowledging +all records, free, candid, scrutable.</p> + +<p>He began even before death to resolve to +impersonality; he surveyed the perverse +obstinacy of vitality that would not quit its old +habitation, though fierce pain was in possession;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +and he could wonder at the wretched +body heaving, tortured by a double thirst +for air, for water, when so short a time +would render it mere quiet earth, soon to +unshape.</p> + +<p>Out of the darkness rang her voice, noting +beauty wordless, and sunlit seas glanced through +the nights: the magic of the sea was upon him.</p> + +<p>Brief sweetness! the bright sound faltered, +broke. O blackness and pain! The far, +slow knell struck in.</p> + +<p>Again, up welled the buoyant voice, poised +and floated exquisitely, mounted and shrilled +frantically sweet, caught up the failing senses +from the death sweats, and launched them on a +magic flood of emotion, through racing sprays, +and winds vivid and strong of the brine.</p> + +<p>Gone, ah! gone; for a wailing cry came, +and then thwart silence suddenly, and flung +him back to the dominion of black anguish.</p> + +<p>And again and again, high-noted, above the +tramp of the nearing tide, that perfect voice +flew to delicious melody; and promise of words +strengthened the enchantment; and yet, and +yet, a cry and a silence stabbed and bled the +spell she would fashion.</p> + +<p>Perfect achievement came. Up rose a +measure transcending in rapture all forgone,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +and flawless, unfaltering, consummate, leaped +on and on, rhythm by rhythm, clear-syllabled +for conquest.</p> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">'Where silver shallows hold back the sea,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Under the bend of the great land's knee,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">And the gleaming gulls go nestled and free.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Where the tide runs down in the round of the bay,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">There in the rings where the mermen play,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">On ribs and shallows their footprints lay.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">In liquid speech they laughed and sung,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Under the rocks, till the rout outswung,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Called from the echoing cave its tongue.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">They were away with the glimmering seas:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Off with the twilight, off with the breeze,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Wave-weeds fell from their glancing knees;</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Robes laid by, which the hollowed spars</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Held and hid, while the wet sand-bars</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Failed of the sunlight and filled with stars.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Sea-mists rose for a dream, but when</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Mists wore faint in the sunlight, then</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lo, the sea with its dancing men.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Spume and swirl spun under their feet;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Sparkle and flash, for the runners were fleet;</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Over them climbed the day to its heat.</span><br /> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">And the day drew a draught of the tide-winds strong,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As a singer the breath to be rendered song,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As a child the life that will last so long.'</span><br /> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Christian had fallen prone.</p> + +<p>While she sang, so potent was the magic, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +lusted to live. Sentient only to the desires she +kindled, out of account lay the dead heart, and +the broken strength, and the body so shattered +within and without, that wonder was it yet +could hold a man's life. Pain was excluded by +a great sensual joy of living.</p> + +<p>Her song manned the mirage of her delight, +and straightway he was passionate for +life. Never before had she acknowledged the +sea-fellowship to occasion the ravenous ache of +jealousy. She sang of the mermen, and they +rose before him visionary at the spell, with +vigorous hair and frolic eyes, very men, lithe +and sinewy for the chase and capture of their +feminine fairest in amorous play. Life was +one fire burning for the hot war of nature's +males, as through the riot, whirling with the +song, he eyed challenge and promise of a splendid +wrestle with strong, hard limbs; and the +liquid, exquisite voice was a call to him to speed +in and win, nor suffer the wanton sea-brood to +prevail.</p> + +<p>It was then that his body fell, face forward, +never to rise again.</p> + +<p>On sang Diadyomene, not knowing that a +power stronger than her magic, stronger than +his will, kept him from her feet. On she +sang, herself possessed, uttering not with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +own will more than magic. What alien element +underlay the spell she would deliver? +what lurking revelation to be dreaded, to be +desired, hid beneath? Her voice was caught +back again, and yet again, to repeat the finish:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i2">'As a singer the breath to be rendered song,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As a child the life that will last so long—</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As a child——'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Then bell notes fell in a chime. She lifted +her head; they rang, she hearkened, motionless, +wordless.</p> + +<p>It was midnight, and joy for the birth of +Christ thrilled the world. No spell could hold. +Christian must resume the throes of death.</p> + +<p>The cold and the tide were merciful to +shorten. His limbs were stone-cold and dead +already, past motion, past pain. Against his +side the foremost lap of the tide told. It licked +and bit along his body, flanks, breast, throat, +touched his cheek. Astray against his face he +felt the thread of rowan. It kissed along +cheek, along brow, and swung wide and away.</p> + +<p>'Christ, Christ, ah! Christ.'</p> + +<p>He turned his head and drank of the brine, +and drank and drank to slake the rage of +thirst. The drawing of breath made hindrance: +not for long. The last draughts he took were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +somewhat sharp and painful, but they quenched +his thirst. He was entirely satisfied.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i2">'We beseech, we beseech, we beseech:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lord God for my unbaptized!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Dear Christ for Christian's Diadyomene!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Blessed Trinity and all Saints for a nameless soul in sore need!'</span><br /> +</div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<p>Through all creation went the divine breath +of renunciation. Joy for the birth of Christ +rang on; and motionless, wordless, Diadyomene +hearkened, released from the magic of the sea.</p> + +<p>Dawned a vision remote, but strangely distinct, +of a small life comprehending two dear +figures—one most dear; and thereto a small, +beautiful pain responded. A tale flashed across +and across, gaining coherence, giving it: the +tale of a loved and lost child, long years ago +lost to the sea; loved still. Perfect grew the +interweaving; the substance of the two became +one.</p> + +<p>Joy for the birth of Christ was abroad, thrilling +all planes of existence with the divine breath +of renunciation. In the soul of Diadyomene, +waked from its long trance, love was alive; a +finite, individual love, chief centred on one +dearest to remembrance. The beautiful pain +grew large, and the cold heart that the sea-life +had filled and satisfied was yearning for share<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +in another life long forgone. A small divine +instinct, following ignorantly in the wake of +that great celestial love that hundreds of years +ago stooped to the sorrow of life, urged her +to renounce the ample strengths and joys of +the sea, and to satisfy a piteous want, were +it by repression of energies, by eschewing full +flavours of sense, by the draining of her young +life. The soul of true womanhood in this +child for the cherishing of her mother's waxed +mature.</p> + +<p>Motionless, wordless, she hearkened while +separate bells cadenced; when again they fell +to their wonted unison, the sea-bred woman +knew that a soul was hers, and that it claimed +dominion.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i2">'We beseech, we beseech, we beseech:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lord God for my unbaptized!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Dear Christ for Christian's Diadyomene!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Blessed Trinity and all Saints for a nameless soul in sore need!'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Diadyomene flung out vacant arms, and +moaned a dear name, for years unuttered. +Across the long interval of sea-life her spirit +leaned to own the filial heart of childhood. +Clear to her as yesterday came back that +broken fragment of earlier life,—bright, partial, +inadequate, quaintly minute, as impression had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +gone into a happy, foolish infant. Not a +memory had traversed the ground since to +blur a detail, though now the adult faculties +could apprehend distortion, the beautiful +vagarious distortion that can live in a brain +over toddling feet.</p> + +<p>Recent song caught colour; reflected it.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i2">'As a woman the breath to be rendered song,</span><br /> +<span class="i2">As a child the life that will last so long.'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>From deep roots under dense forgetfulness, +the song had drawn up truth to blossom in +perfect form. Before the eager wonder of the +child, the sea had revealed its secret of men +shapes, who had beckoned, and laughed, and +tempted her with promise and play, till she +stretched out her arms to their glee, till she ran +in their circles, till, breathless, she thirsted and +drank of their offering, and so passed.</p> + +<p>So tempered was her cold sea body that no +ice-wind ever started a shiver. Now one came, +for the mother might not recognise her child, +for the child might be grown unworthy of her +mother's love.</p> + +<p>There was one to succour: Christian. What +had she done? There was one to blast her, too +foul for any love: Christian.</p> + +<p>Her hideous doings rushed back upon her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +with conviction of guilt; an old sense revived; +she shrank and cowered, bowed to the ground +by an agony of shame.</p> + +<p>Lo! the moon bared her face and looked.</p> + +<p>Diadyomene rose to her knees; with a steady +will she rose to her feet and went to suffer her +full penalties.</p> + +<p>Her portion of shame was dreadful to bear; +her bold avowal of love for Christian, her +atrocious wording of hate intervolved to +double disgrace. Then neither passion had +been entirely feigned; now she knew that +love swayed her alone, turning her to a worship +of the man. No bitterer penance could she +conceive than with confession to him to strip +heart and soul naked as her body; this only +could extend it: should his large generosity +keep under his loathing and contempt, and +order him to deal gently for her help according +to pity. No way could he remit her dues.</p> + +<p>As she went to meet his face, she lifted her +gaze up the slant moonbeams, looking piteous, +despairing appeal for darkness to come back +and cover her. Wisps of cloud made only a +poor pretence. She met the tide unhindered, +and stood; she looked, no man was there; she +wailed 'Christian, Christian,' and no voice +answered. With relief for the lengthened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +shadows below the rocks, she made for the very +spot where he had knelt; it was far overpassed +by the tide. Ankle deep she trod: knee deep. +She sets her foot upon a man's hand, leaps, +stumbles on his body to a fall: Christian dead +lies under her embrace.</p> + +<p>Supreme justice had measured her due.</p> + +<p>The placid clay had returned to an old +allegiance, and weltered with the tide according +to the joint ordering of earth and moon. +The living creature would not acknowledge +that right dominion, most desperately would +withstand it. She stooped her shoulder beneath +the low head, and heaved it up above the +tide: the air did but insist that it lay dead-still. +With all her slender feminine strength +put out for speed, she girthed, she held, she +upbore the inert weight afloat for moonlighted +shallows. There her knee up-staying, her +frantic hands prevailing over the prone figure, +the dead face fell revealed. No hope could +appeal against that witness.</p> + +<p>A strange grey had replaced the ruddy tan of +life, darker than the usual pallor of the +dead. That, and the slack jaw, and the fixed, +half-shut eyes, a new and terrible aspect gave +to the head, dear and sacred above all on earth +to the stricken creature beholding.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>For a long moment appalled she gazed, +knowing yet but one fathom of her misery: +just her loss, her mere great loss past repair. +Then moaning feebly, her arms went round +again to draw it close. Her smooth palms +gliding over the body told of flawed surfaces, +bidding her eyes leave the face to read new +scores: on the breast a deep rent, on the +shoulder another, and further more and more +wherever a hand went. Along one arm she +stretched hers, and lifted it up to the light +of the moon. Beside the tense, slender limb, +gleaming white, that other showed massive, +inert, grey-hued, with darker breaks. The +hand hanging heavy was a dark horror to see.</p> + +<p>Shadows invaded, for the moon was foundering +on the rocks.</p> + +<p>Across her shoulders she drew the heavy +burden, strove to rise upright to bear it, +tottered, fell, and then dragged on with elbows +and knees as the waves resigned to her the +full load. Heavy knees furrowed the sand +beside hers, heavy arms trailed; the awful, +cold face drooped and swayed from her +shoulder as she moved; now and again it +touched her cheek.</p> + +<p>Withdrawn from the fatal sea, what gain +had she? The last spark of life was long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +extinct, and she knew it; yet a folly very +human set her seeking Christian's self in the +shell that was left, scanning it, handling it, calling +upon deaf ears, drawing the wet head against +her breast. Cold, cold was her breast; the sea-magic +had bred out all heat from her heart.</p> + +<p>She pressed the dripping hair; she stooped +and kissed her dead lover on the lips. It was +then her iniquity struck home with merciless +rigour complete. 'I will lay my face down +against yours, and out of very pure hate will +kiss you once. Even in the death-agony I +mean you to know my fingers in your hair.'</p> + +<p>The wretched soul writhed as the hideous +words rose up against her to damn. They +were alive with every tone and laugh; they +would live stinging and eating out her heart +until she died.</p> + +<p>And after death?</p> + +<p>'Christian! Christian!'</p> + +<p>The agonised cry now was no effort to +waken deaf ears; it called after Christian himself, +gone past reach of her remorse into unknown +night. Gone deliberately, to be finally +quit of so abhorred a creature? In mute +witness the quiet body lay to vindicate +Christian: too broken it was, too darkly grey +for any death self-willed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then she could look upon the blank face +no more, for the moon passed quite away. +Then the stretching tide came lapping and +fawning, soon to sway the dead weight she +held. She was not worthy to look upon clay +so sacred, she was not worthy to touch it, +she who in wanton moods had inclined to a +splendid male, nor recognised in him a nobler +version of love. No spark of profane passion +could remain after she had kissed the cold, +dead face.</p> + +<p>The dreadful cry of a soul's despair broke +the vacant air with the name of Christian. +Many times his name, and no other word. +The desolation of great agony was hers: no +creature of the sea could bring her any +comfort now; no creature under heaven; for +the one on earth to whom her child's heart +yearned was the one on earth she least dared +face with her awful load of guilt.</p> + +<p>Nothing could atone for what she had done: +life could never give scope, nor death. Were +this that she held Christian himself, able to see +and hear, her passionate remorse could conceive +no dearer impossibility than at his feet to fall, +with supplication, with absolute confession +delivering the love and worship of her heart +before him: to be spurned by his inevitable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +hate. The inexorable indifference of the dead +was a juster, a more terrible, recompense.</p> + +<p>Yet a more terrible conception woke from +a growing discernment of Christian's utter +abstraction from the mortal shape, that so long +had represented him to her, and so well. This +his body had ceased from suffering and endurance, +yet the very self of Christian might +bear with him unassuaged the wounds and +aches her malice had compassed. Hate would +heal, would sear, at least; but oh! if he had +not quit him of a tyrannous love, then bruised +and bleeding he carried with him still a living +pain of her infliction. She dared not confidently +reckon her vileness against the capacity +of his extravagant love. She dared not. Her +full punishment reached home to her at last.</p> + +<p>Her ignorant mortal senses strained to +pierce the impenetrable mystery that had +wrapt Christian to an infinite remoteness. +For his relief, not for her own, would she +present to him her agonies of love and remorse: +him stanched, averse: him bleeding, +tender; to gratify, to satisfy, to plenish any +want.</p> + +<p>Tempests of despair raged through that +undisciplined soul. Every hope was cut off, +every joy was extinct. The sweet attraction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +of loving service, the pride and glory of +despotic rule, were not for her, an exile from +the one, and from the other abdicating. In all +the world there was no place for her but this, +between sea and land, with a hold on a dead +illusion of Christian, with vain, frantic crying +after his reality.</p> + +<p>She did not know, whelmed in gulfs of sin +and grief and despair, she did not know how +divine a dawn brooded over the waste. From +the long-lost past clear echoes swept of childish +prayers, to blend as an undercurrent with that +message her lover had so tried to deliver, that +she had repelled as hideous and grotesque. +She used no conscious memory, nor followed +any coherent thought, but, consonant with the +first instinct of her fresh awakened soul, that +longing for her mother's sake to make renunciation, +consonant with Christian's finished +achievement—his striving, suffering, enduring +even death for her unworthy sake—was this +incoherent impression of a divinity vastly, +vaguely suffering in exemplary extreme out of +great compassion and love to mankind, thence +accrediting suffering as the divinest force that +can move the world. Her also it had vanquished.</p> + +<p>The tide had turned; it pressed her gently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +to resume her old way to the deeps. The +drift of another tide took her.</p> + +<p>Out of her futile striving for direct communion +with Christian grew a sense that the +sole possibility left to her was to yield body +and soul to his will in strict possession, and to +follow that guidance. In her great misery and +helpless desolation a how and a whither with +quailing beset her going. Lo! the first step +was sure, because it entailed a heartrending +renunciation.</p> + +<p>Ah! desperately dear was this, Christian's +body, to her mortal apprehension of him. She +held it very closely with an access of love and +worship such as appertains to vacant shrines. +O woe to part from it, to lay it aside and +leave it to final obliteration!</p> + +<p>Suddenly she wept. This near, definite distress, +so humanly common, broke up the +fountain of her tears so many a year sealed. +To a creature long of the cold sea breeding +tears were scalding to the heart.</p> + +<p>Moaning, weeping, yet a little while she +failed to forgo that embrace of pure worship +and untainted love. Worthy of reverence that +piece of clay was, for its loyal alliance with a +high soul; wonderful as a noble and true<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +representative; very sacred from the record of +devotion scored deep, so fatally deep.</p> + +<p>She wept, she wept as though weeping could +cease from her never. Could the deep draught +of sea-magic in tears be distilled, void of it +should she be long before daybreak come.</p> + +<p>The shallowing run of the tide drove her +to resign the dead weight that exceeded her +strength to uphold. Weeping, heartwrung, she +bent her to replace her own will by Christian's! +So first she gave away the dead body to final +peace, and laid it down for ever in its destined +sepulchre, and thereafter went alone into +unfamiliar darkness to grope blind among +strange worlds for the ways of Christian's +countenance.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="i2">We beseech, we beseech, we beseech:</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Lord God for my unbaptized!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Dear Christ for Christian's Diadyomene!</span><br /> +<span class="i2">Blessed Trinity and all Saints for a nameless soul in sore need!</span><br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<p>Some four days after Rhoda heard what more +befell before that night was out. The chief +monitress told her.</p> + +<p>'We were watching all,' she said, 'and +praying according to that promise I had made +for a nameless soul in sore need, whose name, +Diadyomene, you have restored to us. The dull +roar of the sea came in swells of sound, filled +as often with an illusion of voices; angry voices +they sounded then. This I say that you may +understand how a cry like a human creature in +distress could pass unregarded at first. Again +and again it came more distinctly, till we were +startled into suspicion that a feeble knocking +was close by at the lych door of our chapel. +One went at my bidding to look out. Back she +fled, with terror white as death: "God and +His saints guard," she said, "that without is +not of flesh and blood!"</p> + +<p>'I and another took her light and went to +the door, and before unclosing I asked in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +name of God who was there. No answer came +but a sound of bitter sobbing. Then I looked +out, and verily doubted also if what I looked +on were indeed flesh and blood. Upon the +threshold crouched a slender woman-shape, +naked. I flung wide the door and touched +her: she was cold as marble, colder, I dreaded, +than any creature of life could be. Then did +she raise her head to show the fairest and +saddest face I have ever beheld. Her eyes +were full of tears fast falling, and oh! the +wild, hunted, despairing look they had. +"Christian, Christian!" she wailed. None +knew of any such name.</p> + +<p>'We lifted her up and led her in and covered +her hastily. Her dark hair was all drenched; +recent wet had not dried from her skin. A +few flakes of snow had been drifting down; I +noticed some that lay on her shoulders: they +did not melt there. Cold as a marble statue +she was, and as white, and of as beautiful a form +as any that man has fashioned, and but for her +sobbing and that one cry of "Christian," one +could think as dumb.</p> + +<p>'I would have led her to comfort and +warmth and food, but she would not: from +touch and question she shrank bewildered and +scared; as though the cloak we had wrapped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +about her were irksome, she slipped it off once +and again, unashamed of nakedness. Still her +tears fell like rain, and heavy sobs shook her. +But as the great bells struck overhead, she +caught in sudden breath and held it while +the air throbbed, and thereafter broke out +with her cry: "Christian, Christian!"</p> + +<p>'I bade all kneel and pray, that if this were +indeed one of God's creatures, wisdom might +be given us to deal with her for her welfare. +In great perplexity I prayed, and some fear. +I think it was that utter coldness of a living +body that appalled me most.</p> + +<p>'One spoke from her knees. "The name +of Christ is in her utterance; no creature outcast +from salvation could frame any such +word." Then I said: "I will take upon me to +offer her instant baptism. That may be her +need that she cannot perfectly utter." She did +not seem to hear one word when I spoke to +her; I could see her mind was all too unknit +for comprehension; she only cried out as +before. But when I turned towards the altar +and took her by the hand, she followed me +unresisting.</p> + +<p>'So, right before the altar we brought her, +and made her kneel among us all. All our +font was a stoup of holy water held at hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +Then I prayed aloud as God gave me the grace. +She ceased to weep; she caught my hand in +hers; I know she heard. In the name of the +blessed Trinity I baptized her, but signed no +cross; too suddenly she rose upright; she flung +up her arms with one deep sigh. I caught a +dead body from falling.</p> + +<p>'God knows what she was.'</p> + +<p>The speaker fell to prayer. Presently Rhoda +said: 'How did you name her?'</p> + +<p>'I named her Margaret.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda whispered: 'She was Diadyomene.'</p> + +<p>Then she covered her face with her hands, +lest the grave eyes should read over deep.</p> + +<p>'What else?' she said, 'tell all.'</p> + +<p>'When the grace of God had prevailed over +our doubt and dismay, we did not dread to +consider the dead countenance. It was fairer +even than in life; serene as any sleeping child; +death looked then like a singular favour.</p> + +<p>'We closed her eyes and folded her hands, +and laid her out before the altar, and resumed +prayer for the one nameless and another +Margaret.</p> + +<p>'And no more we knew of whence she came +than this: that by daybreak a powder of drying +brine frosted her dark hair, and the hollows of +her ears were white with salt.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<p>'So,' said Rhoda, 'might come one cast +ashore from a wreck.'</p> + +<p>'We took measures, indeed, to know if that +could be; but out of all the search we sent +about not a sign nor a clue came. If she were +indeed that one Diadyomene, we may only look +to know more when the young man Christian +shall come again.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda turned her face to the wall when +she answered very low: 'He will not come +again. Well I know he will never come +again.'</p> + +<p>Then her breathing shortened convulsively, +and past restraint her grief broke out into +terrible weeping.</p> + +<p>The dark-robed monitress knelt in prayer +beside her. That pious heart was wise and +loving, and saw that no human aid could comfort +this lorn girl fallen upon her care. When +Rhoda was spent and still, she spoke:</p> + +<p>'My child, if, indeed, we can no more pray +God to keep that brave young life from sin +and death, yet may we pray that his soul +may win to peace and rest under the mercy +of heaven. Nay, there is no need that you +too should rise for kneeling. Lie down, lie +down, for your body is over spent. Kneel +before God in spirit.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was long silence, and both prayed, till +Rhoda faltered to the betrayal of her unregenerate +heart: 'Was she so very fair indeed? +Where is she laid? Take me—oh, let me once +look upon her face.'</p> + +<p>'It may not be. She lies a day buried, there +without among our own dead—although—God +only knows what she was.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda again would rise.</p> + +<p>'Yet take me there. Night-time? Ah yes, +night, night that will never pass.'</p> + +<p>At daybreak she stood, alone at her desire, +beside a new-made grave, and knew that the +body of Diadyomene lay beneath, and knew +hardly less surely, that somewhere beneath the +sea she overlooked the body of Christian lay. +Nearest the sea was the grave on the windblown, +barren cliff. No flower could bloom +there ever, only close dun turf grew. Below +stretched the broken, unquiet sea, fretted with +rock and surf, deep chanting of the wind and +moon. One white sea-bird was wheeling and +pitching restlessly to and fro.</p> + +<p>She turned her eyes to the land far east for +the thought of Lois. Over there a winter dawn +flushes into rose, kindles bright and brighter, +and a ruddy burnish takes the edges of flat +cloud. Lo! the sun, and the grey sea has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +flecks of red gold and the sea-bird gleams. +She cannot face it.</p> + +<p>Rhoda knelt down by the grave to pray. +Presently she was lying face downward along +the turf, and she whispered to the one lying +face upward below.</p> + +<p>'Ah! Diadyomene, ah! Margaret. God +help me truly to forgive you for what you +have done.</p> + +<p>'I have tried. Because he asked it, I have +torn out my heart praying for you.</p> + +<p>'You fair thing! you were fairer than I, but +you did not love him so well as I.</p> + +<p>'Ah! ah! would it were I who lay +down there under the quiet shelter of the +turf; would it were you who lived, able to set +up his honour and make his name fair before +all men!</p> + +<p>'Ah! ah! a dark rebuke the mystery of +your life has brought; and the mystery of your +death eats it in.</p> + +<p>'Can you bear to be so silent, so silent, nor +deliver a little word?</p> + +<p>'When you rise, Diadyomene, when the +dead from the sea rise, speak loud, speak very +loud, for all to hear.</p> + +<p>'He loved you! He loved you!'</p> + +<p>The sod above the face of Diadyomene was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +steeped with the piercing tears of Rhoda. 'He +loved you!' came many times as she sobbed.</p> + +<p>Blind with tears, she rose, she turned from +the grave; blind with tears, she stood overlooking +the sea; sun and shine made all a +glimmering haze to her. She turned from +those desirable spaces for burial to stumble her +blind way back to the needs of the living.</p> + +<p>It was late, after sunset, that Rhoda, faint +and weary, dragged into sight of the light +of home. In the darkness a voice named her, +struck her still. 'Philip's voice!'</p> + +<p>Groping for her in the dark, he touched her +arm. Energy she had to strike off his hand +and start away, but it failed when she stumbled +and fell heavily; for then Philip without repulse +helped her to her feet, and as she staggered +a little, stunned, would have her rest a moment, +and found the bank, and stripped off his coat +for her seating. She said, 'No, no,' but she +yielded.</p> + +<p>'You thought me dead?' he asked.</p> + +<p>She sat dumb and stupid, worn out in body +and mind.</p> + +<p>'Do you hold <i>me</i> to blame?'</p> + +<p>Still she did not speak.</p> + +<p>'Rhoda, O Rhoda, I cannot bear this! Has +that devil Christian taught you?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rhoda rose up with an indignant cry. +Then she steadied her voice and spoke.</p> + +<p>'The name of Christian I love, honour, +reverence, above all names on earth. You are +not worthy even to utter it. Betake you, with +your lies, your slanders, your suspicions, to +others ready to suspect and slander and +lie—not to me, who till I die can trust him +utterly.'</p> + +<p>She turned and went. Philip stood.</p> + +<p>'Is he dead?' he said to himself. 'He is +dead. He must be dead.'</p> + +<p>Awe and compassion alone possessed him. +To his credit be it said, not one selfish consideration +had a place then. Quick wits told +him that Rhoda had inadvertently implied +more than she would. He overtook her +hastily.</p> + +<p>'Hear me! I will not offend. I will not +utter a word against him.'</p> + +<p>He spoke very gently, very humbly, because +of his great compassion; and truly, Christian +dead, it were not so hard to forgo rancour. +But Rhoda went on.</p> + +<p>'You must hear what I come to tell you +before you reach home. Do you think I have +been watching and praying for your return +these hours, only to gird at Christian? For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +his mother's sake I came, and to warn +you——'</p> + +<p>She stopped. 'What is it? What is it? +Say quick.'</p> + +<p>'Nothing that you fear—nothing I can +name. Hear me out!</p> + +<p>'Last night I came back, and told, in part, +what had befallen me; and heard, in part, what +had befallen Christian. To-day, one thrust +in upon his mother, open-mouthed, with ugly +hints. She came to me straight and asked for +the whole truth. Rhoda, I swear I said nothing +but bare truth, mere plain, unvarnished fact, +without one extravagant word; but her face +went grey and stony as she heard—oh! grey +and stony it went; and when I asked her to +forgive me—I did, Rhoda, though what wrong +had I done?—she answered with her speech +gone suddenly imperfect.'</p> + +<p>Rhoda pressed forward, then stopped again—</p> + +<p>'What did you tell her? I must know +that.'</p> + +<p>Philip hesitated: 'Then against Christian +I must speak in substance, however I choose +my words.'</p> + +<p>'Go on—go on!'</p> + +<p>So Philip told, as justly and truly as he +could, all he might.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Was this,' put in Rhoda, 'off the Isle +Sinister?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>She heard all the tale: of Christian's sullen +mood; of the dark something attending below, +that he knew, that he watched; of his unfinished +attempt at murder.</p> + +<p>'That we knew,' she said.</p> + +<p>Told in the dark by one who had lived +through them, nearly died through them, +whose voice yet acknowledged the terror of +them,—circumstances were these of no vague +indication to Rhoda. The reality of that dark +implication stirred her hair, chilled her blood, +loosened her joints; yet her faith in Christian +did not fall.</p> + +<p>But no word had she to say to refute the +dreadful accusation; no word for Philip; no +word for an adverse world. And what word +for his mother? Her heart died within +her.</p> + +<p>The most signal evidence sufficient for her +own white trust was a kiss, a close embrace, +hard upon the naming of Diadyomene. She +had no shame to withhold it; but too likely, +under his mother's eye, discount would offer +were maiden blood quick to her face when she +urged her tale.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> + +<p>She knew that an ominous hum was against +Christian, because he had struck, and swum, +and escaped as no other man could; she +guessed how the roar went now because of +Philip's evidence. How inconsiderable the +wrong of it all was, outdone if one injurious +doubt his mother's heart entertain.</p> + +<p>To hatred and to love an equal disregard +death opposed. No menace could disturb, no +need could disturb the absolute repose Christian +had entered. She envied his heart its +quiet in an unknown grave.</p> + +<p>'Be a little kind, Rhoda; be only just; +say I was not to blame.'</p> + +<p>She could not heed.</p> + +<p>'Why do you hate me so? For your sake +I freely forgive Christian all he has done; for +your sake I would have been his friend, his +brother, in spite of all. O Rhoda, what can +I do?'</p> + +<p>'Let be,' she said, 'for you can undo nothing +now. If I saw you kneeling—no, not before +me—but contrite, praying: "God be merciful +to me, for by thought and word and deed I +have sinned against the noblest, the worthiest," +then, then only, far from hate, I think I could +almost love.'</p> + +<p>No indignation was aflame with the words;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +the weary voice was so sad and so hopeless as +to assure Philip she spoke of one dead.</p> + +<p>'All I can do now is to pray God to keep +me from cursing you and the world for your +working of a cruel wrong that can never be +ended.' Her voice pitched up on a strain. +'Oh, leave me, leave me, lest I have not +grace enough to bear with you!'</p> + +<p>Philip, daring no more, stood and heard +the hasty, uneven steps further and die. His +eyes were full of tears; his heart ached with +love and pity for Rhoda in her sorrow and +desolation, that he could do nothing to relieve—nothing, +because her infatuation so extravagantly +required.</p> + +<p>Rhoda braced her heart for its work, reached +to the latch, and stood face to face with Lois. +The trial began with the meeting of their eyes; +Rhoda stood it bravely, yielding no ground.</p> + +<p>'Is he dead?' muttered Lois.</p> + +<p>'None can tell us.' She faltered, and began +to tremble, for the eyes of Lois were dreadful +to bear; dreadful too was her voice, hoarse +and imperfect.</p> + +<p>'Is he worse than dead?'</p> + +<p>'No! Never—never think it.'</p> + +<p>Lois forbore awhile with wonderful stoicism. +She set Rhoda in her own chair; the turf-covered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +embers she broke into a blaze to be +prodigal of warmth; there was skilly waiting +hot; there was water. She drew off Rhoda's +shoes, and bathed her feet, swollen and sore; +she enforced food.</p> + +<p>Though she would not yet ask further, the +sight of her face, grey and stony indeed, the +touch of her hands, trembling over much, were +imperative to Rhoda's heart, demanding what +final truth she could give.</p> + +<p>'Child, if you need sleep, I can bear to +wait.'</p> + +<p>'I could not,' said Rhoda. 'No.'</p> + +<p>She looked up into the tearless, sleepless +eyes; she clasped the poor shaking hands; +and her heart rose in worship of the virtues of +that stern, patient soul.</p> + +<p>As the tale began they were face to face; +but before long Rhoda had slipped from her +seat, to speak with her head against his mother's +knees.</p> + +<p>'I will tell you all now. I must, for I +think I am no longer bound to silence, and, +indeed, I could not bear it longer—I alone.'</p> + +<p>'And you promised, if I would let you go +unquestioned away.'</p> + +<p>'I did, thinking I went to fathom a mystery. +Ah, no! so deep and dark I find it to be, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +wit of man, I think, will never sound it. But +your faith and love can wing above it. Mine +have—and yours, oh!—can, will, must.'</p> + +<p>'Ah, Christian! Child, where is my Christian? +His face would tell me briefly all I +most would know.'</p> + +<p>'You have listened to an ugly tale. I know—I +know—I have seen Philip. You must not +consider it yet, till you have heard all. I own +it not out of accord with the rest, that reason +just shudders and fails at; but through all the +dark of this unfathomable mystery my eyes +can discern the passing of our Christian white +and blameless.'</p> + +<p>'Your eyes!' moaned Lois.</p> + +<p>Rhoda understood. She hid her face and +could not speak. In her heart she cried out +against this punishment as more than she +deserved, and more than she could bear. No +word that she could utter, no protest, no +remorse, could cover a wrongful thing she had +said for Lois to recall. So small the sin had +looked then; so great now. She had spoken +fairly of deadly sin just once, and now Lois +could not rely on her for any right estimate, +nor abide by her ways of regard.</p> + +<p>'Ah, Christ!' she whispered in Christian's +words, 'is there no forgiveness of sins?'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lois heard that, and it struck her to the +heart.</p> + +<p>Rhoda took up her burden again.</p> + +<p>'Christian loved one Diadyomene. What +she was I dare not think: she was shaped like +a woman, very beautiful. Dead she is now; +I have seen her new grave. God have mercy +on her soul, if any soul she have.</p> + +<p>'I have known this for long, for some +months.'</p> + +<p>'He told—you!'</p> + +<p>'No—yes. I heard her name from him +only in the ravings of fever. He never +thought I knew, till the very last: then I +named her once; then he kissed me; then +he went.'</p> + +<p>She turned back to the earliest evidence, +telling in detail of Christian's mad course with +her; then of his ravings that remained in her +memory painfully distinct; she kept back +nothing. Later she came to faltering for a +moment till Lois urged:</p> + +<p>'And he asked you to be his wife?'</p> + +<p>'Yes.'</p> + +<p>'And because of this knowledge you refused +him?'</p> + +<p>'Yes. And he kissed me for joy of that +nay-saying. On the very morrow he went—do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +you remember? It was to her, I knew +it.'</p> + +<p>'O Rhoda, you might have saved him, +and you did not!'</p> + +<p>Rhoda raised her head and looked her +wonder, for Christian's sake, with resentment.</p> + +<p>'God smote one,' she said, 'whose hand +presumed to steady His ark.'</p> + +<p>'O child, have you nothing to show to +clear him?'</p> + +<p>'Wait, wait! There is much yet to tell.'</p> + +<p>Then she sped on the last day with its load +for record, and, scrupulously exact, gave words, +tones, looks: his first going and return; the +coming of Philip's kinsmen; that strange +vagary of the rowan berries that he had won +her to a bet. Lois had come upon a garbled +version of Christian's escape; Rhoda gave her +his own, brief and direct.</p> + +<p>'Was it Christian—man alive!—that came +to you?'</p> + +<p>'It was. It was. He ate and drank.'</p> + +<p>Of their last meeting and parting she told, +without reserve, unashamed, even to her kissing +the Cross on his breast.</p> + +<p>Was ever maiden heart so candid of its +passion for a man, and he alive? Too single-hearted +was Rhoda to know how much of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +truth exhaled from her words. Without real +perception Lois drew it in; she grew very still; +even her hands were still. Verily it had got to +this: that to hear her dearest were dead, merely +dead, could be the only better tale to come.</p> + +<p>'Then,' said Rhoda, 'the morrow came and +closed, and I would not believe he could have +kept his promise to be dead; and a day and a +day followed; and I dared tell you nothing, +seeing I might not tell you all. Then I +thought that in such extremity for your sake +I did right to discover all I could of his secret; +at least I would know if she, Diadyomene, were +one vowed as I guessed in the House Monitory.</p> + +<p>'Now I know, though I would not own it +then, that deep in my heart was a terrible dread +that if my guess were good, no death, but a +guilty transaction had taken our Christian from +us. Ah! how could I? after, for his asking, I +had prayed for her.</p> + +<p>'Now, though the truth lies still remote, +beyond any guess of mine; though I heard of +a thing—God only knows how she came by +her life or her death—lacking evidence, ay, or +against evidence, we yet owe him trust in the +dark, never to doubt of his living worthily—if—he +be not—dead worthily. Ah, ah! which +I cannot tell you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I went to the House Monitory and knocked. +So stupid and weak I was, for longer and +harder than I looked for had the way been, and +my dread had grown so very great, that when +the wicket opened I had no word to say, and +just stared at the face that showed, looking to +read an answer there without ever a question. +I got no more sense than to say: "Of your +charity pray for one Diadyomene."</p> + +<p>'I saw startled recognition of the name. +Like a coward, a fool, in sudden terror of +further knowledge, I loosed the sill and turned +to run in escape from it. I fell into blackness. +Afterwards I was told I had fainted.</p> + +<p>'They had me in before I came to myself. +Ah! kind souls they were. A monitress knelt +at either side, and one held my head. When +memory came back, I looked from one to the +other, and dared not ask for what must come. +There was whispering apart that scared me. +Then one came to me. "My child," she +said, "we will pray without question if you +will; yet if you may, tell us who is this +Diadyomene?" I thought my senses had not +come back to me. They would have let me +be, but I would not have it then. "Who is +she?" I said; "I do not know, I came to you +to ask." "We do not know." Bewildered, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +turned to the one who had opened to me. +"But you know; I saw it in your face when I +named her." "The name I knew, nothing +more; and that I had heard but once, and my +memory had let it escape." "Where had you +heard it? Who knows?" I said. "On +Christmas Eve a man came, a young man, +fair-haired." "Christian," I said, "that was +Christian." At that three faces started into +an eager cluster. "Christian!" they said, +"was his name Christian?" Then they told +me that after night-fall he had come and +named Diadyomene, and that before daybreak +a woman, naked and very beautiful, had come +wailing an only word, "Christian." But because +of the hour of his coming I said no, it could +not be he, for I had seen him too shortly +before. And indeed it seemed to me past +belief that any man could have come that way +by night so speedily. So they gave detail: his +hair was fair; his eyes grey; he was of great +stature; he was unclothed, bleeding freshly, +and, yes, they thought, gashed along the +shoulder. "But here is a sure token," and +with that they showed me that cross he had +worn. "This," they said, "he unloosed from +his neck."'</p> + +<p>Never a word more Lois heard of that tale,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +though for near a minute Rhoda carried it +forward. Then looking up, she saw a face like +a mask, with features strained and eyes fixed, +and sprang up in terror, vainly to strive at +winning from the stricken senses token of the +life they locked.</p> + +<p>Was she guilty of this?</p> + +<p>Never did she know. For the few days +that sad life held on till it reached its term +never a word came: not one fiducial word +through the naming of Christian to exonerate +Rhoda.</p> + +<p>So Lois, too, had the comfort of death, and +Rhoda only was left, through long life to go +unenlightened, and still to go dauntless of the +dark.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE</h2> + + +<p>Tell us how an altered estimate grew after the +passing of Christian, to end his reproach.</p> + +<p>But his name came to be a byword of +disgrace, his story a dark, grotesque legend +among records of infamy.</p> + +<p>Tell us how Rhoda lived to be happy.</p> + +<p>But the pain and shame of his stigma her +heart could never lay aside, though long years +gave to patience and fortitude a likeness to +serenity and strength. Where Christian had +lived would she still abide all her days; and +the poor reward of her constancy was in a +tribute of silence concerning him that came +to respect her presence.</p> + +<p>Tell us how Philip ripened to iniquity and +was cut off.</p> + +<p>But a tiny germ of compunction, lurking +somewhere in that barren conscience, quickened +and grew under Rhoda's shadow, till, spite of +the evidence of his own senses, spite of reason, +spite of public judgment, he entertained a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +strange doubt, and to his world and its ridicule +acknowledged it. Long years wore out Rhoda's +suspicion of his sincerity; long years raised +him in her esteem in exact proportion as he +sank in his own.</p> + +<p>Tell us how Rhoda never stooped to mate +with one less worthy than her first love.</p> + +<p>But a day came when the House Monitory +gave her way to a grave with a little son +against her breast; and she stood there to +look out over the sea that hid the bones of +Christian, and thanked her God for appointing +her in His world a place as helpmeet for a +weak soul, who by paths of humility sought +after right worship. Then she wept.</p> + +<p>Tell us in some figure of words how the +soul of Christian entered for reward into the +light of God's countenance.</p> + +<p>At rest his body lay, and over it flowed the +tides.</p> + +<p>Tell us in some figure of words how the soul +of Diadyomene, wan and shivering, found an +unaltered love, with full comprehension and +great compassion, her shelter in the light of +God's countenance.</p> + +<p>At rest her body lay, and over it sang the +winds.</p> + +<p>Tell us in some figure of words how Lois<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +beheld these two hand in hand, and recognised +the wonderful ways of God and His mercy in +the light of His countenance.</p> + +<p>At rest her body lay, and over it grasses +grew.</p> + +<p>We need no words to tell us that God did +wipe away all tears from their eyes.</p> + +<p>Surely, surely; for quietly in the grave the +elements resumed their atoms.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4><a name="Printed_by_T_and_A_Constable_Printers_to_Her_Majesty" id="Printed_by_T_and_A_Constable_Printers_to_Her_Majesty"></a>Printed by T. and A. <span class="smcap">Constable</span>, Printers to Her Majesty +at the Edinburgh University Press</h4> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Table of contents added to html version. Not present in the original book.</p> +<p>On equal number occurrences of same word with and without hyphens (seagull:sea-gull; piecemeal:piece-meal; +wellnigh:well-nigh) opted to leave both as printed.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Unknown Sea, by Clemence Housman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNKNOWN SEA *** + +***** This file should be named 33945-h.htm or 33945-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/9/4/33945/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, JoAnn Greenwood and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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