Half the sky, from the zenith to the western sea-line, was an
astonishing sheet of pure, pale, even gold. And through this sheen,
on the horizon, burned the sun, a disc of richer gold. The gold of
the sky grew more golden, then tarnished before our eyes and began to
glow faintly with red. As the red deepened, a mist spread over the
whole sheet of gold and the burning yellow sun. Turner was never
guilty of so audacious an orgy in gold-mist.

Presently, along the horizon, entirely completing the circle of sea
and sky, the tight-packed shapes of the trade wind clouds began to
show through the mist; and as they took form they spilled with rose-
colour at their upper edges, while their bases were a pulsing,
bluish-white. I say it advisedly. All the colours of this display
PULSED.

As the gold-mist continued to clear away, the colours became garish,
bold; the turquoises went into greens and the roses turned to the red
of blood. And the purple and indigo of the long swells of sea were
bronzed with the colour-riot in the sky, while across the water, like
gigantic serpents, crawled red and green sky-reflections. And then
all the gorgeousness quickly dulled, and the warm, tropic darkness
drew about us.



CHAPTER XXVI



The Elsinore is truly the ship of souls, the world in miniature; and,