, outside which the
villagers were awaiting them with flowers and ready to cheer; but
he was unable to reach it. The path winded in and out among the
gravestones, and round and round the church, till at length it
reached the tomb of the murdered sailor.

All the while the ringers were endeavoring to give the young bridal
pair a merry peal, and failed. The ropes slid from their hands,
and only the sexton succeeded in securing one, and with that he
tolled. Distinctly Iver saw the familiar carving of the three
murderers robbing and killing their victim. He had often laughed
over the bad drawing of the figures--he laughed now, in sleep.

Then he thought that he heard Mehetabel reproach him for having
returned, to be her woe. And that between each sentence she sobbed.

Thereupon he again looked at her.

She was beautiful, more beautiful than ever--a beauty sublimated,
rendered almost transparent. As he looked she became paler, and
the hand he held grew colder. Now ensued a strange phenomenon.

She was sinking. Her feet disappeared in the spongy turf that
oozed with water after the long rain. Her large dark eyes were
fixed on him entreatingly, reproachfully.

Then she was enveloped to her knees, and as she went down, the
stain of the wet grass and the soil of the graveyard clay rose an
inch up her pure white garment.

She held his hand tenaciously, as the only thing to which she
could cling to save her from being wholly engulfed.

Then she was swallowed up to her waist, and he became aware that
if he continued to clasp her hand, she would drag him under the
earth. In his dream he reasoned with her. He pointed out to her
that it was impossible for him to be of any service to her, and
that he was jeopardizing his own self, unless he disengaged himself
from her.

He endeavored to release his hand. She clung the more obstinately,
her fingers were deadly cold and numbed him, yet he was resolute
in self-defence, and finally freed his hand. Then she sank more
rapidly, with despair in the upturned face. He tried to escape
her eyes, he could not. It was a satisfaction to him when the rank
grass closed over them and got between the lips that were opened
in appeal for help. Then ensued a gulp. The earth had swallowed
her up, and in dream, he was running for his pallet and canvas to
make a study of the spot where she had sunk, in a peculiarly
favorable light. He woke, shivering, and saw that the gray morning
was looking in a