in flesh
and spirit through Heaven, or through Hell, since love I must have, or
death."

"I pray you, talk not so," said Kari again, in a frightened voice,
"since those words of yours come from the heart and will be heard. The
goddess is a woman, too, and what woman will turn from such a bait?"

"Let her take it, then. Why not?"

"Because, O friend, because _Quilla_ is wed to _Yuti_; the Moon is the
Sun's wife, and if the Sun grows jealous what will happen to the man who
has robbed the greatest of the world's gods?"

"I do not know and I do not care. If Quilla would but come and love me,
I'd take my chance of Yuti whom as a Christian I defy."

Kari shuddered at this blasphemy, then having once more scanned that
silver pathway on the waters, but without avail for the great fish
or drifting tree or whatever he had seen, was gone, prayed after his
fashion at night, to Pachacamac, Spirit of the Universe, or to the Sun
his servant, god of the world, I know not which, and rolling himself in
his rug of skins, crept into our little hut to sleep.

But as yet I did not sleep, for though Kari hated both, this talk of
love and women had stirred my blood and made me wakeful. So I took a
rough comb that I had fashioned from the shell of a turtle, and dragged
it through my long fair beard, which, growing fast, now hung down far
upon my breast, and through the curling hair that lay upon my shoulders,
for I had become as other wild men are, and sang to myself there by the
little fire which we kept burning day and night and tried to think of
happy things that never should I know again.

At length the fit passed and I grew weary and laid myself down by the
fire, for the night being so fine and warm I would not go into the hut,
and there sleep found me.

I dreamed in my sleep. I dreamed that a very beautiful woman who wore
upon her naked breast the emblem of the moon fashioned in crystal, stood
over me, looking down upon me with large dark eyes. And as she looked
she sighed. Thrice she sighed, each time more deeply than the last. Then
she knelt down by me--or so it seemed in my dream, and laid a tress of
her long dark hair against my yellow locks, as though she would match
them together. She did more, indeed--in my dream--for lifting that tress
of fragrant hair, she let it fall like thistledown across my face and
mouth, and then kissed the hair, for I felt her breath reach me through
its strands.

The dream ended thus, though I