ce of it was like the moon, cold and clear. And though David could
not at first divine whence it came, he did not doubt in his heart that
it was there to guide him; so he struck out towards it, with long silent
strokes. He swam for a long time, the light shining softly over the
water, and seeming to rise higher over his head, while the glimmering of
the ship's lights grew fainter and more murky behind him. Then he became
aware that he was drawing near to the land; great dark shapes loomed up
over his head, and he heard the soft beating of waves before him. Then
he could see too, as he looked upon the light, that there was a glimmer
around it; and he saw that it came from the edges and faces of rocks
that were lit up by the radiance. So he swam more softly; and presently
his foot struck a rock covered with weed; so he put his feet down, waded
in cautiously, and pulling himself up by the hands found himself on a
rocky shore, and knew that it was his own island.

Then the light above him, as though it had but waited for his safety to
be secured, died softly away, like the moon gliding into a cloud. David
wondered very much at this, and cast about in his mind how it might be;
but his heart seemed to tell him that there was some holy and beautiful
thing on the island very near to him. He could hardly contain himself
for gladness; and he thought that God had doubtless given him this day
of misery and terror, partly that he might value his peace truly, and
partly that he might feel that he had it not of right, but by the
gracious disposition of the Father.

So he climbed very softly and swiftly to the cave; and entered it with a
great gladness; and then he became aware of a great awe in his mind.
There was somewhat there, that he could not see with his eyes, but which
was more real and present than anything he had ever known; the cave
seemed to shine with a faint and tender gleam that was dying away by
slow degrees; as though the roof and walls had been charged with a
peaceful light, which still rayed about them, though the radiance that
had fed it was withdrawn. He took off his dripping clothes, and wrapped
himself in his old sea-cloak. But he did not think of sleep, or even of
prayer; he only sate still on his bed of fern, with his eyes open in the
darkness, drinking in the strong and solemn peace which seemed to abide
there. David never had known such a feeling, and he was never to know it
again so fully; but for the time h