dying as her pagan forefathers had died, with the secret ancient
chant upon her lips. Yes, she sang as Skarphedinn the hero sang while
the flame ate out his life.

The song swelled on, and the great waters boomed an accompaniment. Then
came a sound of crashing walls, and for a moment it ceased, only to
rise again still clearer and more triumphant. Again a crash--a seething
hiss--and the instrument was silent, for its twin was shattered.
Shattered also was the fair shape that held the spirit of Stella.

Again and again Morris spoke eagerly, entreatingly, but the aerophone
was dumb. So he ceased at length, and even then well nigh laughed when
he thought that in this useless piece of mechanism he saw a symbol of
his own soul, which also had lost its mate and could hold true converse
with no other.

Then he started up, and just as he was, ran out into the raving night.

Three hours later, when the sun rose upon Christmas Day, if any had been
there to note him they might have seen a dishevelled man standing alone
upon the lonely shore. There he stood, the back-wash of the mighty
combers hissing about his knees as he looked seaward beneath the hollow
of his hand at a spot some two hundred yards away, where one by one
their long lines were broken into a churning yeast of foam.

Morris knew well what broke them--the fallen ruins of the church that
was now Stella's sepulchre, and, oh! in that dark hour, he would have
been glad to seek her where she lay.

CHAPTER XVII

THE RETURN OF MARY

Curiously enough, indirectly, but in fact, it was the circumstance of
Stella's sudden and mysterious death that made Morris a rich and famous
man, and caused his invention of the aerophone to come into common use.
Very early on the following morning, but not before, she was missed from
the Rectory and sought far and wide. One of the first places visited
by those who searched was the Abbey, whither they met Morris returning
through the gale, wild-eyed, flying-haired, and altogether strange to
see. They asked him if he knew what had become of Miss Fregelius.

"Yes," he replied, "she has been crushed or drowned in the ruins of the
Dead Church, which was swept away by the gale last night."

Then they stared and asked how he knew this. He answered that, being
unable to sleep that night on account of the storm, he had gone into his
workshop when his attention was suddenly attracted by the bell of the
aerophone, by means of which he