She hid them, and broke into charming, genuine laughter. 'Do you know yet?' she said. 'No, for they are set overdeep for a woman, and the lashes shadow so.' 'Come nearer, then, and look.' He stepped straight into the pool knee-deep and deeper, and with three strides stood below. She bent her head towards him with her arms upon her knee, propping it that a hand might cover irrepressible smiles. Her beautiful eyes she opened wide for the frank grey eyes to consider. Many a breath rose and fell, and neither offered to relinquish the intimate close. Beautiful eyes indeed! with that dark, indescribable vert iris that has the transparent depth of shadowed sea-water. They were bright with happy mirth; they were sweetly serious; they were intent on a deep inquiry into his; they were brimming wells not to be fathomed; oh, what more? what haunted their vague, sad, gracious mystery? 'Are you satisfied yet of their colour?' she asked quietly, bringing him to a sense of the licence he indulged. 'Of their colour--yes.' 'How, then, are you not satisfied?' 'I do not know.' 'Bare truth!' 'What thoughts, then, lay behind while you looked down so?' She kept her mouth concealed, and after a pause said low as a whisper: 'Looking at your eyes, I wondered if they would alter greatly when your time came--to die.' 'Ah, no, no,' he said, startled; 'how could you!' His mind only caught the suggestion to reflect upon her transparent eyes stricken with the tragedy of death. From so gentle a tone he could not gather a sinister hint; moreover, she smiled to effect a blind. 'Now that your quest is over, I in turn desire certain knowledge. Gratify me, and so shall your rash footing here to-day stand redeemed.' She signed for him to follow, and led the way by rock and pool to the entrance of the cave. There upon a boulder she leaned, and pointed him up to the rock above, where the rough inscription he had set there remained unimpaired. 'That is your handiwork?' 'Yes.' 'What does it mean?' His heart thumped. To her he had addressed that legend, not knowing what she was. 'I do not know that you are fit to hear.' Her just indignation refrained from him, and his heart smote him. 'Ah! I should not judge. Hear then!' and he read. For an instant her face fell, troubled, and she moved restlessly. 'And who are They? Who is the Father?' 'God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.' 'He did not make me.' 'But He did.' 'Say that He made you if so you please: I speak for myself. Pass on now. Who is the Son?' 'Jesus Christ His Son, our Lord, who suffered and died to save us from our sins.' 'Suffered and died!' she exclaimed, and then added, 'I have no sins.' 'Ah, you have!' said Christian, aghast. 'You may have, may be, but not I. Pass on. Who is the other one?' 'The Holy Ghost the Comforter.' 'Whose comforter? Theirs? yours? not mine--I need no comfort.' When he said, 'O poor, lost soul, God have mercy!' she rose to passion.