in such ghastly incidents as those in which the sheer horror of nature's
action, or of man's crime, becomes invested with an illicit beauty, and
fascinates while it kills. On the other hand, it is seen in all of the
many cases in which exquisite beauty proves also to be dangerous, or at
least sinister. "The haunting strangeness in beauty" is at once one of
the most characteristic and one of the most tragic things in the world.

There were three sisters, the Gorgons, who dwelt in the Far West, beyond
the stream of ocean, in that cold region of Atlas where the sun never
shines and the light is always dim. Medusa was one of them, the only
mortal of the trio. She was a monster with a past, for in her girlhood
she had been the beautiful priestess of Athene, golden-haired and very
lovely, whose life had been devoted to virgin service of the goddess.
Her golden locks, which set her above all other women in the desire of
Neptune, had been her undoing: and when Athene knew of the frailty of
her priestess, her vengeance was indeed appalling. Each lock of the
golden hair was transformed into a venomous snake. The eyes that had
been so love-inspiring were now bloodshot and ferocious. The skin, with
its rose and milk-white tenderness, had changed to a loathsome greenish
white. All that remained of Medusa was a horrid thing, a mere grinning
mask with protruding beast-like tusks and tongue hanging out. So
dreadful was the aspect of the changed priestess, that her face turned
all those who chanced to catch sight of it to stone. There is a degree
of hideousness which no eyes can endure; and so it came to pass that the
cave wherein she dwelt, and all the woods around it, were full of men
and wild beasts who had been petrified by a glance of her,--grim fossils
immortalised in stone,--while the snakes writhed and the red eyes
rolled, waiting for another victim.

This was not a case into which any hope of redemption could enter, and