"How cometh his blood on you?"

"'Twas when I killed him."

"You--killed him?"

"Aye--he wearied me. So do all my lovers, soon or late."

Now as I looked on this woman, the strange, sullen beauty of her (despite
her masculine apparel) as she sat thus combing her long hair and foul with
a dead man's blood, I bethought me of the wild tales I had heard of female
daemons, succubi and the like, so that I felt my flesh chill and therewith
a great disgust and loathing of her, insomuch that, not abiding the sight
of her, I turned away and thus beheld a thing the which filled me with
sudden, great dismay: for there, her sails spread to the fitful wind, I saw
the ship standing out to sea, bearing with her all my hopes of escape from
this hated island. Thus stood I, watching deliverance fade on my sight,
until the ship was no more than a speck upon the moon-bright waters and all
other thoughts 'whelmed and lost in raging despair. And now I was roused by
a question sudden and imperious:

"Who are you?"

"'Tis no matter."

"How came you here?"

"'Tis no matter for that, either."