led the world, and almost at the same instant the water splashed
and gurgled up, and the moonbeams, cold and bright as ever, were mirrored
in the thousand drops that flew up from its surface.

Was this Antinous, the indolent dreamer, who so promptly plunged his oars
in the water, pulled a powerful stroke, and then, when in a few seconds
after her fall, the form of the drowning girl came to the surface again
quite close to the boat, flung aside the oar that was in his way? Leaning
far over the edge of the boat he seized the floating garment of the
drowning creature--it was a woman, no Daimon nor shade--and drew her
towards him. He succeeded in raising her high out of the waves, but when
he tried to pull her fairly out of her watery bed, the weight, all on one
side of the boat, was too great; it turned over and Antinous was in the
sea.

The Bithyman was a good swimmer. Before the white form could sink a
second time he had caught at it once more with his right hand and taking
care that her head should not again touch the surface of the water, he
swam with his left arm and legs towards the spot where he remembered he
had seen the flight of steps. As soon as his feet felt the ground he
lifted the girl in both arms and a groan of relief broke from his lips as
he saw the marble steps close below him. He went up them without
hesitation, and then, with a swift elastic step, carried his dripping and
senseless burden to the terrace where he had observed that there were
benches. The wide floor of the sea-terrace, paved with smooth flags of
marble, was brightly lighted by the broad moonshine, and the whiteness of
the stone reflected and seemed to increase the light. There stood the
benches which Antinous had seen from afar.

He laid his burden on the first he came to, and a thrill of thankful joy
warmed his shivering body when the rescued woman uttered a low cry of
pain which told him that he had not toiled in vain. He gently slipped his
arm between the hard elbow of the marble seat and her head, to give it a
somewhat softer resting-place. Her abundant hair fell in clammy tresses,
covering her face like a thick but fine veil; he parted it to the right
and left and then--then he sank on his knees by her side as if a sudden
bolt had fallen from the blue sky above them; for the features were hers,
Selene's, and the pale girl before whom he was kneeling was she herself,
the woman he loved.

Almost beside himself and trembling in ever