world, and it bore them swiftly, swiftly, whither neither he in his
restlessness nor she in her in experience realised or cared. If the
sound of the breakers came to them from afar they heeded it not. They
were too far away to matter as yet, and Knight had steered a safe course
for himself in troubled seas before. As for Columbine, she knew only the
rapture of love triumphant, and tasted perfect safety in the holding of
her lover's arms. He had won her with scarcely a struggle, and she
gloried with an ecstasy that was in its way sublime in the completeness
of her surrender. On such a night as that it seemed to her that the
whole world lay at her feet, and she knew no fear.

The still pool slept in the moonlight, a lake of silver, unspeakably
calm. Beyond the outstretched blade of rock the great waters rose and
rose. The murmur of them had swelled to a roar. The splash of them
mounted higher and ever higher. Suddenly a crest of foam gleamed like a
tongue of lightning at the point of the curve. The pool stirred as if
awakening. The moonlight on its surface was shivered in a thousand
ripples. They broke in a succession of tiny wavelets against the
encircling rocks.

Another silver crest appeared, burst in thunder, and in a moment the
pool was flooded with tossing water.

"Do you see that?" whispered Columbine. "It is like my life."

They stood together under the frowning cliff and watched the wonder of
the pool's awakening. Knight's arm held her close pressed to his side.
He could feel the beating of her heart. She stood with her face upturned
to his and all the glory of love's surrender shining in her eyes.

He caught his breath as he looked at her. He stooped and kissed the red,
red lips that gave so generously. "Is my love as the rising tide to you,
sweet?" he murmured.

"It is more!" she answered passionately. "It is more! It is the tidal
wave that comes so seldom--maybe only once in a lifetime--and carries
all before it."

He pressed her closer. "My passion-flower!" he said. "My queen!"

He kissed the throbbing whiteness of her throat, the loose clusters of
her hair. He laid his hot face against her neck, and held it so, not
breathing. Her arms stretched upwards, clasping him. She was
panting--panting as one in deep waters.

"I love you! I love you!" she whispered tensely. "Oh, how I love you!"

Again there came the thunder of the surf. The waters of the pool leapt
as if a giant hand had churned them. The