he read the parable without seeing the blanched face of the child, and
feeling a renewal of that evening's sadness over the fate of the poor
goats which afterwards grew into the question--'Doth God care for oxen,
and not for goats?' He never saw the child again; for they left the next
day, and she did not come to bid them good-by.

"As he went home from the chapel, her face of terror haunted him.

"That night he fell asleep, as usual, with the sound of the waves in his
soul. And as he slept he dreamed.--He stood, as he thought, upon the
cliff, within which lay the remnants of the old castle. The sun was slowly
sinking down the western sky, and a great glory lay upon the sea. Close to
the shore beneath, by the side of some low rocks, floated a little boat.
He thought how delightful it would be to lie in the boat in the sunlight,
and let it die away upon his bosom. He scrambled down the rocks, stepped
on board, and laid himself in the boat, with his face turned towards the
sinking sun. Lower and lower the sun sank, seeming to draw the heavens
after him, like a net. At length he plunged beneath the waves; but as his
last rays disappeared on the horizon, lo! a new splendour burst upon the
astonished boy. The whole waters were illuminated from beneath, with the
permeating glories of the buried radiance. In rainbow circles, and
intermingling, fluctuating sweeps of colours, the sea lay like an intense
opal, molten with the fire of its own hues. The sky gave back the
effulgence with a less deep but more heavenly loveliness.

"But betwixt the sea and the sky, just over the grave of the down-gone
sun, a dark spot appeared, parting the earth and the heaven where they had
mingled in embraces of light. And the dark spot grew and spread, and a
cold breath came softly over the face of the shining waters; and the
colours paled away; and as the blossom-sea withered and grew grey below,