the hollows of your
ribs are overfilled.'

He felt that she had the power to make good her taunting words.

'I have faced death before now,' he answered simply.

She was angered, and hated him, because he stood upright before her, with
eyes that did not waver, and words like proud disdain. She longed to
abase him before she compassed his death.

'How shall I take the forfeit? Shall I bid sea-serpents crawl from the
ooze of the deep to crush out your life in scaly folds; or set a watch of
sharks about my garden to tear your live limbs piecemeal when you venture
hence; or make the waves my agents to toss you and wrestle with you, to
batter out all comeliness of form, and break your bones as reeds beneath
the gale?'

Look, tone, gesture, drove home the full horror of her words. Brave as
the boy was, the blood forsook his cheek, a momentary tremor passed, and
involuntarily his eyes turned to the eastern sky, whereunder lay a
well-known shore, and his home, and the grey-haired couple, who, bereft
of him, would go to the grave sorrowing. They faced each other in
silence, as two wrestlers mark each the other's strength. A strangely
unequal pair! The tall lad, long-limbed, muscular, broad-chested, the
weight of whose finger was stronger, than her full-handed might, knew he
was powerless, knew at least that no physical strength could prevail
against the young witch; she, slender, smooth-limbed, threatened him with
torture and death, strong in witch-might and witch-malice.

Keen-eyed, she had seen that he quailed, and softening, was half minded
to forgive his trespass.

'Kneel again and pray for your life; perchance I yet may grant it you.'

Should his christened body grovel to her, a witch? A ring of scorn was in
his answer.

'Not to you,' he said; 'I kneel and pray only when I love and fear.'

She hated him again: he meant that her he hated and despised.

'Fool!' she cried, raging, 'you defy me? Do you not know that you are
wholly in my power?'

'Not wholly--no. Though, because I have done amiss, my life be given into
your hands, my soul is in God's.'

She put her hands to her brow suddenly, as though she had received a
blow. She stood quite silent. Then she looked about her as though she
sought vaguely for something she could not find. Anger had passed away.

'Your soul!' she said, on a note of wonder. 'Your soul!' she repeated,
and broke into a scornful laugh. 'Ay, I remember something: I had a soul
once; but