shore did not reach this spot so far below the walls of the quay.

Barine was frightened; but a few minutes after the outlines of a large
fishing boat loomed through the darkness, dimly illumined by the harbour
lights, and the next instant the giant who carried her placed her on the
deck, and a deep voice whispered: "All's well. I'll bring some wine at
once."

Then Barine saw her husband lying motionless on a couch which had been
prepared for him in the prow of the boat. Bending over him, she
perceived that he had fainted, and while rubbing his forehead with the
wine, raising his head on her lap, cheering him, and afterwards by the
light of a small lantern carefully renewing the bandage on his shoulder,
she did not notice that the vessel was moving through the water until the
boatman set the triangular sail.

She had not been told where the boat was bearing her, and she did not
ask. Any spot that she could share with Dion was welcome. The more
lonely the place, the more she could be to him. How her heart swelled
with gratitude and love! When she bent over him, kissed his forehead,
and felt how feverishly it burned, she thought, "I will nurse you back to
health," and raised her eyes and soul to her favourite god, to whom she
owed the gift of song, and who understood everything beautiful and pure,
to thank Phoebus Apollo and beseech him to pour his rays the next morning
on a convalescent man. While she was still engaged in prayer the boat
touched the shore. Again strong arms bore her and Dion to the land, and
when her foot touched the solid earth, her rescuer, the freedman Pyrrhus,
broke the silence, saying: "Welcome, wife of Dion, to our island! True,
you must be satisfied to take us as we are. But if you are as content
with us as we are glad to serve you and your lord, who is ours also, the