not so very greatly shrink from passing
out of the body to stand before the face of his Maker. He could not take
up any meaning for prayer. He was discarded from service; perfect justice
had tried him, judged him, and condemned him as unfit. It was bitter for
him; but review of his finishing span of life, its sin, failure,
impotence, brought him to acquiescence. 'Thine is the kingdom, and the
power, and the glory' was all he had of prayer.

The apprehension of each human principle was straitened, by darkness
about him, by pain in strong possession, by recognition of death closing
in. As visitants to his heart from some far-distant sphere came Rhoda,
Lois, Diadyomene; they vanished away; he could not keep them close--not
even Diadyomene. 'Dear love, my love!'

Through the dark she came.

He rose to his knees, aware of a moving glimmer of grey, nearing, near.
At her swift, beautiful pace she made for the sea. Suddenly she stood. He
heard the catch of her breath; swiftly the dim oval of her face was
turned to him; then away. She swayed back a step; she swayed forward;
hung a moment at poise upright; reeled aside, and fled back into the
dark.

Then Christian found he had yet strong faculty for life. He had retained
small certainty that she had not long passed him by; speculation had
fallen faint. Lo! she was here, controlled, and he not dead. He could
pray, for her and for a little life, passionately.

A low, bitter cry quivered through the dark to his heart. Diadyomene had
fled for a way of escape, and found it barred. Soft rapids were her feet;
she came speeding full to leap past. In vain; with a cry she flung up her
arms, revulsed irresistibly, swerved, and stood stone-still. She moaned
out long, agonised sighs; she seemed to turn away in pride, ignoring him;
she seemed to face him again, not defiant. He saw her hands outstretched
in appeal. 'What have you done?' she said; 'what have you done?' and then
the woful complaint was changed to wilder: 'What have I done? what have
I done?'

He did not dare to speak, nor had he the breath. He was weeping for her.
But she, not seeing, was stirred to wrath and fear by a silence so cruel.
To her height she rose above the gasping, crouched shape, and her voice
rang hard and clear.

'Stand away. Once you trespassed, and I forgave you fully; twice, and I
spared you; this third time--get you gone quickly, and find yourself some
easy death before it be out of reach.'

Still he