different from the half-shut eyes with black lashes, and the winsome,
shapely nose. And the heart of the world, as she heard it, could not be
the same as the curling splash of retreat of the little sleepy waves.
She listened for Siegmund's soul, but his heart overbeat all other
sound, thudding powerfully.



_Chapter 7_


Siegmund woke to the muffled firing of guns on the sea. He looked across
at the shaggy grey water in wonder. Then he turned to Helena.

'I suppose,' he said, 'they are saluting the Czar. Poor beggar!'

'I was afraid they would wake you,' she smiled.

They listened again to the hollow, dull sound of salutes from across the
water and the downs.

The day had gone grey. They decided to walk, down below, to the next
bay.

'The tide is coming in,' said Helena.

'But this broad strip of sand hasn't been wet for months. It's as soft
as pepper,' he replied.

They laboured along the shore, beside the black, sinuous line of