he
far crags dived toward her through the still waters of the lagoon.

The whole scene had seemingly occupied less than a second. Already,
before I could breathe, I was leaping down the corridor towards the
stairs. I called once for help--a door behind me opened. Then I was out
in the gray dawn, racing toward the lagoon.

There seemed no interlude of time between the instant that I saw that
splashing water and that in which I had plunged full into the gray
depths myself. In reality there was a space of several seconds--the gray
light showed me that the drama of the lagoon had progressed immeasurably
further. The girl was fifty or sixty feet from the rock wall now, just
her head showing above water, her arms locked tight about the plank and
facing her approaching foe. And something that swam swiftly made
streaming ripples toward her.

I swam with amazing ease and swiftness. The terror, innate love of life,
were all forgotten in the hope that I might reach Edith's side in time.
And now, by the gray light of dawn, I saw that her foe was upon her.

They were struggling with a desperate frenzy, and for an instant the
splashing water almost obscured them. The plank had been torn from her
grasp, and by some circumstance had been sped hopelessly out of her
reach. And now, the water clearing from my eyes, I could determine the
identity of her assailant. No matter what further fate the lagoon had in
store for her, this foe was human, at least. Terrible and drawn with
passion as it was, I saw the face of Major Kenneth Dell, the man who had
disappeared the preceding night.

I yelled, trying to give hope. Already I was almost upon them; and Dell
had released his hold of the girl. Whatever had been his purpose it had
been forgotten in the face of some greater extremity. Their fight was no
more with each other: rather they seemed at death grips with some
resistless foe that tore at them from beneath the waves.

I saw Dell's face. An unspeakable terror, that of one who in wickedness
goes down to an awful death, was on his face. It was such a terror as
men can know but once, for they never live to tell of it, and which
blasts the heart of any one that beholds it. No artist, delving into the
abnormal, could have portrayed that fear. It was a thing never to
forget, but ever to see again in dreams.

Edith was terrified too, but such a terror as Dell knew was impossible
for her. The fear of death that curses a godless man is perhaps