'How can I know?' said the siren. '_I_ shall never die--unless--unless something happens which will never be!' 'You will live on, to bring this bitterness upon others for your sport. We mortals lead but short lives, and life, even spent in sorrow, is sweet to most of us; and our deaths when they come bring mourning to those who cared for us and are left behind. But you lure men to this isle, and look on unmoved as they are borne away!' 'No, you are wrong,' she said; 'I am not cruel, as you think me; when they are no longer pleasant to look at, I leave them. I never see them borne away. I never thought what became of them at last. Where are they now?' 'They are dead, siren,' he said sadly, 'drowned. Life was dear to them; far away there were women and children to whom they had hoped to return, and who have waited and wept for them since. Happy years were before them, and to some at least--but for you--a restful and honoured old age. But you called them, and as they lay here the greedy waves came up, dashed them from these rocks and sucked them, blinded, suffocating, battling painfully for breath and life, down into the dark green depths. And now their bones lie tangled in the sea-weed, but they themselves are wandering, sad, restless shades, in the shadowy world below, where is no sun, no happiness, no hope--but only sighing evermore, and the memory of the past!' She listened with drooping lids, and her chin resting upon her soft palm; at last she said with a slight quiver in her voice,'I did not know--I did not mean them to die. And what can I do? I cannot keep back the sea.' 'You can let them sail by unharmed,' he said. 'I cannot!' she cried. 'Of what use is my power to me if I may not exercise it? Why do you tell me of men's sufferings--what are they to me?' 'They give you their lives,' he said; 'you fill them with a hopeless love and they die for it in misery--yet you cannot even pity them!' 'Is it love that brings them here?' she said eagerly. 'What is this that is called love? For I have always known that if I ever love--but then only--I must die, though what love may be I know not. Tell me, so that I may avoid it!' 'You need not fear, siren,' he said, 'for, if death is only to come to you through love, you will never die!' 'Still, I want to know,' she insisted; 'tell me!' 'If a stranger were to come some day to this isle, and when his eyes meet yours, you feel your indifference leaving you, so that you have no heart to see him lie ignobly at your feet, and cannot leave him to perish miserably in the cold waters; if you desire to keep him by your side--not as your slave and victim, but as your companion, your equal, for evermore--that will be love!' 'If that is love,' she cried joyously, 'I shall indeed never die! But that is not how men love _me_?' she added.