ong ceased only as if that small bird-throat
Availed no further. Would the next great chord
Ring out from harps in flaming seraph hands
Ranged through the sky? The night watched, breathless, dumb.
Bess listened. Once again a dry twig snapped
Beneath her casement, and a face looked up,
Draining her face of blood, of sight, of life,
Whispering, a voice from far beyond the stars,
Whispering, unutterable joy, the whole
Glory of life and death in one small word--
_Sweetheart!_
The jasmine at her casement shook,
She knew no more than he was at her side,
His arms were round her, and his breath beat warm
Against her cheek.

* * * *

Suddenly, nigh the house,
A deep-mouthed mastiff bayed and a foot crunched
The gravel. "Hark! they are watching for thee," she cried.
He laughed: "There's half of Europe on the watch
Outside for my poor head, 'Tis cosier here
With thee; but now"--his face grew grave, he drew
A silken ladder from his doublet--"quick,
Before yon good gamekeeper rounds the house
We must be down." And ere the words were out
Bess reached the path, and Drake was at her side.
Then into the star-stabbed shadow of the woods
They sped, his arm around her. Suddenly
She drew back with a cry, as four grim faces,
With hand to forelock, glimmered in their way.
Laughing she saw their storm-beat friendly smile
Welcome their doughty captain in this new
Adventure. Far away, once more they heard
The mastiff bay; then nearer, as if his nose
Were down upon the trail; and then a cry
As of a hot pursuit. They reached the brook,
Hurrying to the deep. Drake lifted Bess
In his arms, and down the watery bed they splashed
To baffle the clamouring hunt. Then out of the woods
They came, on the seaward side, and Bess, with a shiver,
Saw starlight flashing from bare cutlasses,
As the mastiff bayed still nearer. Swiftlier now
They passed along the bare blunt cliffs and saw
The furrow ploughed by that strange cannon-shot
Which saved this hour for Bess; down to the beach
And starry foam that churned the silver gravel
Around an old black lurching boat, a strange
Grim Charon's wherry for two lovers' flight,
Guarded by old Tom Moone. Drake took her hand,
And with one arm around her waist, her breath
W