little while the ghosts of things terrestrial disappeared.

All around him, now, blankness--save for the gray silhouette of the
_Ariani_. A colourless canopy surrounded him, centred by a tiny pool of
ocean. Overhead through the vanishing blue, hundreds of wild duck were
stringing out to sea; under his tent of fog the tarnished silver of the
water formed a floor smoothly unquiet.

Sounds from the land, hitherto unheard, now came strangely distinct; the
cries of bathers, laughter, the muffled shock of the surf, doubled and
redoubled along the sands; the barking of a dog at the water's edge.
Clear and near sounded the ship's bell on the _Ariani_; a moment's
rattle of block and tackle, a dull call, answered; and silence. Through
which, without a sound, swept a great bird with scarce a beat of its
spread wings; and behind it, another, and, at exact intervals another
and another in impressive processional, sailing majestically through the
fog; white pelicans winging inland to the lagoons.

A few minutes later the wind, which had become fitful, suddenly grew
warm. All around him now the mist was dissolving into a thin golden
rain; the land-breeze freshened, blowing through distant jasmine
thickets and orange groves, and a soft fragrance stole out over the sea.

As the sun broke through in misty splendour, the young man, brooding on
his oars, closed his eyes; and at the same instant his boat careened
violently, almost capsizing as a slender wet shape clambered aboard and
dropped into the bows. As the boat heeled under the shock Hamil had
instinctively flung his whole weight against the starboard gunwale. Now
he recovered his oars and his balance at the same time, and, as he swung
half around, his unceremonious visitor struggled to sit upright, still