n a brain over toddling feet.

Recent song caught colour; reflected it.

'As a woman the breath to be rendered song, As a child the life that will
last so long.'

From deep roots under dense forgetfulness, the song had drawn up truth to
blossom in perfect form. Before the eager wonder of the child, the sea
had revealed its secret of men shapes, who had beckoned, and laughed, and
tempted her with promise and play, till she stretched out her arms to
their glee, till she ran in their circles, till, breathless, she thirsted
and drank of their offering, and so passed.

So tempered was her cold sea body that no ice-wind ever started a shiver.
Now one came, for the mother might not recognise her child, for the child
might be grown unworthy of her mother's love.

There was one to succour: Christian. What had she done? There was one to
blast her, too foul for any love: Christian.

Her hideous doings rushed back upon her with conviction of guilt; an old
sense revived; she shrank and cowered, bowed to the ground by an agony of
shame.

Lo! the moon bared her face and looked.

Diadyomene rose to her knees; with a steady will she rose to her feet and
went to suffer her full penalties.

Her portion of shame was dreadful to bear; her bold avowal of love for
Christian, her atrocious wording of hate intervolved to double disgrace.
Then neither passion had been entirely feigned; now she knew that love
swayed her alone, turning her to a worship of the man. No bitterer
penance could she conceive than with confession to him to strip heart and
soul naked as her body; this only could extend it: should his large
generosity keep under his loathing and contempt, and order him to deal
gently for her help according to pity. No way could he remit her dues.

As she went to meet his face, she lifted her gaze up the slant moonbeams,
looking piteous, despairing appeal for darkness to come back and cover
her. Wisps of cloud made only a poor pretence. She met the tide
unhindered, and stood; she looked, no man was there; she wailed
'Christian, Christian,' and no voice answered. With relief for the
lengthened shadows below the rocks, she made for the very spot where he
had knelt; it was far overpassed by the tide. Ankle deep she trod: knee
deep. She sets her foot upon a man's hand, leaps, stumbles on his body to
a fall: Christian dead lies under her embrace.

Supreme justice had measured her due.

The placid clay had returned to an old allegia