it over the chopping seas. He knew not if he sailed South or
North, he knew not how time passed, for there was no sight of the sun.
It was night without a dawn. Yet his heart was glad, as if he had been a
boy again, for the old sorrows were forgotten, so potent was the draught
of the chalice of the Goddess, and so keen was the delight of battle.

"Endure, my heart," he cried, as often he had cried before, "a worse
thing than this thou hast endured," and he caught up a lyre of the dead
Sidonians, and sang:--

Though the light of the sun be hidden,
Though his race be run,
Though we sail in a sea forbidden
To the golden sun:
Though we wander alone, unknowing,--
Oh, heart of mine,--
The path of the strange sea-going,
Of the blood-red brine;
Yet endure! We shall not be shaken
By things worse than these;
We have 'scaped, when our friends were taken,
On the unsailed seas;
Worse deaths have we faced and fled from,
In the Cyclops' den,
When the floor of his cave ran red from
The blood of men;
Worse griefs have we known undaunted,
Worse fates have fled;
When the Isle that our long love haunted
Lay waste and dead!

So he was chanting when he descried, faint and far off, a red glow cast
up along the darkness like sunset on the sky of the Under-world. For
this light he steered, and soon he saw two tall pillars of flame blazing
beside each other, with a narrow space of night between them. He helmed
the ship towards these, and when he came near them they were like two
mighty mountains of wood burning far into heaven, and each was lofty
as the pyre that blazes over men slain in some red war, and each pile
roared and flared above a steep crag of smooth black basalt, and between
the burning mounds of fire lay the flame-flecked water of a haven.

The ship neared the haven and the Wanderer saw, moving like fireflies
through the night, the lanterns in the prows of boats, and from one
of the boats a sailor hailed him in the speech of the people of Egypt,
asking him if he desired a pilot.

"Yea," he shouted. The boat drew near, and the pilot came aboard, a
torch in his hand; but when his eyes fell on the dead men in the ship,
and the horror hanging from the yard, and the captain bound to the
iron bar, and above all, on the golden armour of the hero, and on the
spear-point fast in his helm, and on his