divine and half-human nature,
and sometimes appeared in the guise of mortals.

Or was Selene dead and was the white figure her wandering shade?
Antinous clutched the handles of the oars, now merely floating on the
water, and bending forward gazed fixedly and with bated breath at the
mysterious being which had now reached the balustrade of the terrace,
now--he saw quite plainly--covered its face with both hands, leaned far
over the parapet, and now as a star falls through the sky on a clear
night, as a fruit drops from the tree in autumn, the white form of the
girl dropped from the terrace. A loud cry of anguish broke the silence
of the night which veiled 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