passionately.

A moment she stood so, then with a swift movement that had in it
something of fierce surrender she sprang away from him on to the flat
rock above the pool where but two nights before the gates of love's
wonderland had first opened to her.

Here for a second she stood, motionless it seemed. And then strangely,
amazingly, she moved again. The brown garment slipped from her, and like
a streak of light, she was gone, and the still pool received her with a
rippling splash as of fairy laughter.

The man on the brink drew a short, hard breath, and put his hand to his
eyes as if dazed. And from beyond the Spear Point there sounded the deep
tolling of the bell-buoy as it rocked on the rising tide.




CHAPTER VII

THE DEATH CURRENT


The pool was still again, still as a sheet of glass, reflecting the
midnight glory of the moon. It was climbing high in the sky, and the
cloud-wreaths were mounting towards it as incense smoke from an altar.
The thick, black curtain that hung in the west was growing like a
monstrous shadow, threatening to overspread the whole earth.