The next morning at daybreak a new sensation awakened her with a start: something seemed to become detached from her body. A large blue egg rolled in front of her and shone like a sapphire. She wanted to take it and play with it or else cook it in the warm ashes as she had seen the satyrs do; but the Swan picked it up in its beak and placed it under a tuft of overhanging reeds. It stretched out its wings over the egg with its gaze fixed upon Lêda, and then with a movement of the wings slowly soared straight up into the sky to disappear in the growing daylight with the last white star. CHAPTER III Lêda hoped that the following night the Swan would come back to her, and she waited for it in the reeds by the river-side near the blue egg which was born of their miraculous union. The Eurotas was covered with swans, but her Swan was not among them. She would have recognized it from a thousand, and even with her eyes shut would have perceived its approach. But it was very certain that the one was no longer there. Then she took off her garland of water-lily leaves, dropped it into the stream, let down her hair and began to weep. When after a time she dried her eyes a great Satyr was near her though she had not heard his approach. Now she was no longer like Phœbe. She had lost her virginity. The satyrs were no longer afraid of her. She leapt to her feet and drew back in affright. The Satyr gently said to her: “Who are you?” “I am Lêda,” she replied. He was silent for a moment and then went on-- “Why are you different from the other nymphs? Why are you blue like the water and the night?” “I do not know.” He looked at her in great astonishment. “What are you doing here all alone?” “I am waiting for the Swan.” She was looking at the river. “What Swan?” he asked. “The Swan. I did not call it, I did not see it, but it appeared. I was so surprised. I will tell you.” She told him what had happened and parted the reeds to show him the blue egg. The Satyr understood. He began to laugh and gave her vulgar explanations, which she stopped by putting her hand over his mouth; then she cried-- “I do not wish to know. I will not know. Oh, you have told me. Oh! it is frightful! Now I shall not be able to love the Swan, and I shall die of unhappiness.” He seized her by the arm in his passion. “Do not touch me!” she cried through her tears. “Oh! how happy was I this morning! I did not realize how happy I was! Now if it return I shall not love it. Now you have told me! Ah! how wicked you are!” He embraced her and caressed her hair. “Oh, no! no! no!” she cried. “Do not do that! Oh if the Swan were to come back! Alas! alas! all is ended.” She stood with staring eyes and open mouth without weeping but with hands trembling with fear. “I would like to die. I do not even know whether I am mortal. I would like to die in the water, but I fear the naiads, lest they make me join them. Oh! what have I done!”