, too, Daisy took her guitar to the sands and sang one or
two Basque hymns. Unlike us, the Basques do not take their pleasures
sadly. One of their pleasures is evidently religion.

"The big moon came up over the dunes and stared at the sea until the
surface of every wave trembled with radiance. A sudden stillness fell
across the world; the wind died out; the foam ran noiselessly across
the beach; the cricket's rune was stilled.

"I leaned back, dropping one hand upon the sand. It touched another
hand, soft and cool.

"After a while the other hand moved slightly, and I found that my own
had closed above it. Presently one finger stirred a little--only a
little--for our fingers were interlocked.

"On the shore the foam-froth bubbled and winked and glimmered in the
moonlight. A star fell from the zenith, showering the night with
incandescent dust.

"If our fingers lay interlaced beside us, her eyes were calm and
serene as always, wide open, fixed upon the depths of a dark sky. And
when her father rose and spoke to us, she did not withdraw her hand.

"'Is it late?' she asked, dreamily.

"'It is midnight, little daughter.'

"I stood up, still holding her hand, and aided her to rise. And when,
at the door, I said good-night, she turned and looked at me for a
little while in silence, then passed into her room slowly, with head
still turned towards me.

"All night long I dreamed of her; and when the east whitened, I sprang
up, the thunder of the ocean in my ears, the strong sea-wind blowing
into the open window.

"'She's asleep,' I thought, and I leaned from the window and peered
out into the east.

"The sea called to me, tossing its thousand arms; the soaring gulls,
dipping, rising, wheeling above the sandbar, screamed and clamored for
a playmate. I slipped into my bathing-suit, dropped from the window
upon the soft sand, and in a moment had plunged head foremost into the
surf, swimming beneath the waves towards the open sea.

"Under the tossing ocean the voice of the waters was in my ears--a
low, sweet voice, intimate, mysterious. Through singing foam and
broad, green, glassy depths, by whispering sandy channels atrail with
sea-weed, and on, on, out into the vague, cool sea, I sped, rising to
the top, sinking, gliding. Then at last I flung myself out of water,
hands raised, and the clamor of the gulls filled my ears.

"As I lay, breathing fast, drifting on the sea, far out beyond the
gulls I saw a flash of whi