Motionless, wordless, she hearkened while separate bells cadenced; when again they fell to their wonted unison, the sea-bred woman knew that a soul was hers, and that it claimed dominion. 'We beseech, we beseech, we beseech: Lord God for my unbaptized! Dear Christ for Christian's Diadyomene! Blessed Trinity and all Saints for a nameless soul in sore need!' Diadyomene flung out vacant arms, and moaned a dear name, for years unuttered. Across the long interval of sea-life her spirit leaned to own the filial heart of childhood. Clear to her as yesterday came back that broken fragment of earlier life,--bright, partial, inadequate, quaintly minute, as impression had gone into a happy, foolish infant. Not a memory had traversed the ground since to blur a detail, though now the adult faculties could apprehend distortion, the beautiful vagarious distortion that can live in 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.