rem passed
the six days which separated him from the Irish coast.

On the day preceding the debarcation he was in great and expectant
spirits, but as the sun sank in the ocean his light-heartedness sank
with it. During dinner his charming _vis-a-vis_ rallied him as best she
might, but he remained unresponsive, answering only when civility made
it necessary for him to do so. It is just possible that the young lady
may have entertained original ideas of her own on the subject of his
taciturnity, but, however that may be, it so happened that before the
meal was done Tristrem went up on deck, and seeking the stern of the
ship, leaned over the gunwale.

So far in the distance as his eyes could reach was a trail of glistening
white. On either side were impenetrable wastes of black. In his ears was
the sob of water displaced, the moan of tireless discontent, and
therewith the flash and shimmer of phosphorus seemed to invite and tell
of realms of enchanted rest beneath. And, as Tristrem watched and
listened, the sibilants of the sea gurgled in sympathy with his
thoughts, accompanying and accentuating them with murmurs of its own.
Its breast was bared to him, it lay at his feet, open-armed as though
waiting his coming, and conjuring him to haste. "There is nothing
sweeter," it seemed to say, "nothing swifter, and naught more still. I
feed my lovers on lotus and Lethe. There is no fairer couch in the world
than mine. A sister's kiss is not more chaste. I am better than fame,
serener than hope; I am more than love, I am peace. I am unforsakable,
and I never forsake."

And as the great ship sped on in fright, it almost seemed to Tristrem
that the sea, like an affianced bride, was rising up to claim and take
him as her own. Many months later, he thought of the sensation that he
then experienced, the query that came to his mind, he knew not how or
whence, whether it were not better perhaps--and then the after-shudder
as he started back, wondering could it be that for the moment he was
mad, and telling himself that in a few hours, a few days at most, he
would be with Her. And what had the sea to do with him? Many months
after he thought of it.

And as he still gazed at the tempting waters, he felt a hand touch his
own, rest on, and nestle in it. He looked around; it was his charming
_vis-a-vis_ who had sought him out and was now looking in his face. She
did not speak; her eyes had lost their mischief, but her mouth framed
its mes