oice was as low and shaken as hers. 'What was there?' he
said.

Again and again she gathered her breath for speech, yet at last was
scarce audible.

'A horror--a living human body--tortured with fire and scourge--flayed.'

She lifted one glance and took the imprint of a strange tranced face,
bloodless as death, void of speculation. Prone she sank to the edge of
the altar rock, for such passions leapt up and grappled in desperate
conflict as dissolved her strength under exquisite throes.

She never raised her head, till, after long wrestle, malice--strong,
full-grown malice--recovered and stood up triumphant over all. And not
one word all that while had come from her lover.

There lay he, his bright head low within reach of her hand. His tranquil
ease, his quiet breath, flouted her before she saw that his eyes were
closed in real sleep. His eyes were closed.

She sprang up, stung, willing to kill; her wicked heart laughed,
gratified then with the doings of men.

How grand the creature lay!

She stood to feast her eyes on the doomed body. The placid composure of
the sleeper, of serene countenance, of slack limbs, touched her as
excellent comedy. But it exasperated her also to the verge of a shrieking
finish.

She ached with a savage thirst in all her members; feet and hands and
lips parched in imperious desires to trample, to smite, to bite her
resentful hatred into the piece of flesh that mocked her control. The
quiet sway of life within his ribs provoked her, with each slow breath he
drew, to rend it from him.

She turned away hastily from temptation to so meagre a revenge; for his
spirit must first be crushed and broken and rent, justly to compensate
for insolent offence. 'He cannot escape, for his heart is in my hand
already,' she said.

Ripples of jasper and beryl closed over her swift descent and shimmered
to smooth. Lone in these splendid fittings for sepulture lay recumbent a
make of earth meet to accomplish its void destiny.

Ripples of jasper and beryl broke from her slow ascent as a reflex
current swept her back.

The mask of sleep lay over his face; though she peered intent, it would
yield nothing, nothing. A want and a dread that struggled together for
birth troubled the cold sea nature. Strong they thrust towards the light,
as her mind recalled the intolerable speech of his eyes and his altered
face. So near she bent that the warmth of his breath reached her lips.
She shrank back, quivering,