He took the oars and they moved gently over the surface. The water, slate-colored, did not reflect the blue of the sky but rather the somber hue of invisible clouds. From the end of the oars fell shining drops which looked to be as heavy as mercury; and it seemed astonishing that the boat could make its way through this, so to speak, metallic flood. Aurelie dipped her hand into it, but had to draw it out at once, so cold and unpleasant was the water. “Oh!” she said and sighed. “What is it? What’s the matter?” asked Ralph. “Nothing—or at least—I don’t know.” “You’re troubled—moved.” “Moved, yes—I’m conscious of impressions which surprise and trouble me. It seems to me——” She paused. “It seems to you?” he said. “I can’t quite tell you. It seems to me that I’m another creature—and that it isn’t you who are here. Do you understand?” “I understand,” he said smiling. She murmured: “Don’t explain it to me. What I feel is rather painful, and yet for nothing in the world would I miss feeling it.” The circle of cliffs, on the summit of which the great wall here and there appeared, ran at a radius of five or six hundred yards. Suddenly there appeared in the middle of it a hollow in which began a narrow channel, hidden by high walls from the rays of the sun. The boat entered it. The rocks were blacker and gloomier. Aurelie gazed at them with amazement, for they were of strange shapes: crouching lions, massive chimneys, colossal statues, gigantic gargoyles. Of a sudden, when they reached the middle of this fantastic corridor, they were, as it were, smitten by a blast of murmurs, faint and indistinct, which came, by the road they had themselves taken, from the regions they had left little more than an hour before. They were the chiming of church bells, of smaller bells, clear notes of bell-metal, delicate and joyous notes, all a trembling of heavenly music, under which droned the big bell of the cathedral. Aurelie turned faint. She understood now the meaning of her distress. The voices of the past, that mysterious past which she had done everything not to forget, echoed within and around her. They came echoing back from the cliffs in which granite was mingled with the lava of ancient volcanoes. They sprang from rock to rock, from statue to gargoyle, moved over the hard surface of the water, mounted to the blue strip of Heaven, fell again like spray to the bottom of the gulf, and went in rolling echoes towards the other end of the passage where shone the light of day. Overcome, trembling with memories, she strove to struggle against so many emotions and braced herself not to succumb to them. But she was no longer strong enough. The past weighed her down like a bending branch, and she bent her head, murmuring with a sob: “Who are you? Who are you?”