re animated by the same destructive iniquity as the
others. They are rabid stomachs that cleanse the waters of all animal
life, digesting it in a vacuum of death. Even the bacteria and
infusoria appear to flee from the liquid that envelops these ferocious
solitudes.

Ferragut passed many mornings contemplating their treacherous
immovability, followed by deadly unfoldings the moment that their prey
came down into the tank. He began to hate these monsters for no other
reason than because they were so interesting to Freya. Their stupid
cruelty appeared to him but a reflex of that incomprehensible woman's
character that was repulsing him by fleeing from him and yet, at the
same time, by her smiles and her signals, was sending out a wireless in
order to keep him prisoner.

Masculine wrath convulsed the sailor after each futile daily trip in
pursuit of her invisible personality.

"She's just doing it to lead me on!..." he exclaimed. "It's got to come
to an end! I won't stand any more bull-baiting.... I'll just show her
that I'm able to live without her!"

He swore not to seek her any more. It was an agreeable diversion for
the weeks that he had to spend in Naples, but why keep it up when she
was fatiguing him in such an insufferable way?...

"All is ended," he said again, clenching his hands.

And the following day he was waiting outside of the hotel just as on
other days. Then he would go for his customary stroll, afterwards
entering the Aquarium in the same, old hope of seeing her before the
tanks of the cuttlefish.

He finally met her there one morning, about midday. He had been over to
his boat and on returning entered, through force of habit, sure that at
this hour he would find nobody but the employees feeding the fishes.

His dazzled eyes were affected with almost instantaneous blindness
before becoming accustomed to the shadows of the greenish galleries....
And when the first images began to be vaguely outlined on his retina,
he stepped hastily backward, so great was his surprise.

He couldn't believe it and raised his hand to his eyes as though
wishing to clarify his vision with an energetic rubbing. Was that
really Freya?... Yes, it was she, dressed in white, leaning on the bar
of iron that separated the tanks from the public, looking fixedly at
the glass which covered the rocky cavern like a transparent door. She
had just opened her hand-bag, giving some coins to the guardian who was
disappearing at the