y thrills to the heart at the beautiful terror. Whiter
than the sands are the bare, smooth limbs, and the dark, massed hair is
black as are the night-shadows. Oh! she comes. Does she see? does she
care? The light, swift feet bring her nearer, straight on, without a
falter. Her shadow falls upon him, and she stays and stands before him,
beautiful, naked, and unabashed as a goddess.

Could she be one of God's creatures? No! Yet because she was shaped like
a woman, youthful pudicity, strong in the boy, bent his head, lowered his
eyes to the ground. He felt a shame she could not know, for her shadow
moved, her white feet came within the range of his lowly vision. Perfect
ankles, perfect feet, foam-white, wonderfully set! When the Evil One
wrought in human shapes, surely his work was ever flawed as to feet!

Still kneeling, he lifted his head, encountered her gaze, and made the
sign of the cross. She met his eyes with a merciless smile, but before
the sign stepped back uneasily; yet her beauty remained unblighted. Then
must it be that a sea-witch could be young and fair, of loveliness
innate, not spell-wrought to ensnare him. He dreaded her none the less,
afraid as never he had been in his life before.

And yet, because his eyes were steady to meet hers, she read such
defiance as she would not suffer. She clapped her hands together, and
laughed in cruel triumph till echoes sprang.

'You are a dead man. Do you know?'

He stood and fronted her boldly now, recovering faith, most needful for
the encounter. By what he could see of her face it was cruel and cold as
death itself, and the gleam of her eyes was like the keen, sharp glitter
of a treacherous sea. For he had not seen, when his eyes had been on the
ground, on her feet, a flash of wonder and pity, for one instant
softening. Wonder at his large-limbed youth remained covert; but his
defiant eyes, his gesture, had routed pity.

'Your bones shall lie apart,' she cried. 'I will choose a fair nook for
you in the great sea sepulchre. All the bones of other wretches who have
perished among these rocks lie piled in a common heap--piled high! But
you alone of many a score having set foot alive in this my garden--by
strength, or courage, or cunning--no matter how, your momentary success
shall receive some recognition. Maybe, if I remember, when your skull is
white and bare, I will crown it with sea-blossom now and then; and
whenever I pass by, cast you a tribute of coral, till