is worth the danger and the suffering to hear this welcome of
the Blessed."

Now the small chorister, who was standing by Serapion at the helm,
touched the father's sleeve, and asked in a low voice: "Have I leave to
sing in answer?"

"Sing, little son," Serapion replied.

Then, ringing the blessed bell of the Sea-farers, the child intoned the
evening hymn:

_Te lucis ante terminum--_
_Before the waning of the light._

The instant his fresh young voice was heard singing that holy hymn, the
flower-garlands about the boat broke into ghastly flames, and wreathed
it with a dreadful burning; and the radiant figures were changed into
dark shapes crowned with fire; and the song of longing and love became
a wailing and gnashing of teeth. The island vanished away in rolling
smoke; and the boat burned down like a darkening ember; and the
Sea-farers in their ship were once more alone in the wilderness of
waters.

Long they prayed that night, praising God that they had escaped the
snares and enchantments of the fiends. And Serapion, drawing the lad
to him, kissed him, saying: "God be with thee, little brother, in thy
uprising and thy down-lying! God be with thee, little son!"

After this they were again driven into the south for many a day, and
saw no earthly shore, but everywhere unending waters. A great
wonderment to them was this immensity of the sea of ocean, wherein the
land seemed a little thing lost for ever. And ever as they drove
onward, the pilot star of the north was steadfast no longer, but sank
lower and still lower in the heavens, and many of the everlasting
lights, which at home they had seen swing round it through the livelong
night, were now sunken, as it were, in the billows.

"Truly," said Serapion, "it is even as his Discretion the Bishop told
us; whether east we sail or west, or cross-wise north and south, the
earth is of the figure of a ball. In a little while it may be that we
shall see the pilot star no more;" and he was sorely troubled in his
mind as to how they should steer thereafter with no beacon in heaven to
guide them, and how they would make their way back to the Abbey of the
Holy Face.

In their wandering they set eyes on a thing well-nigh
incredible--nothing less than fishes rising from the depths of the sea,
and flying like birds over the ship, and diving into the sea again, and
yet again rising into the air and disporting themselves in the sun. At
night, too, they behe