They pressed each other’s hands, and, striving to see through the blue hollow of the night, they thought of the adventure of the voyage they had undertaken.  Spectral ships loomed up and vanished in the spectral stillness; and only within the little circle of light could they perceive the waves over which they floated.  The moon drifted, and a few stars showed through the white wrack.  Whither were their lives striving?  She had thought that her life in Dulwich must endure for ever, but it had passed from her like a dream; it had snapped suddenly, and she floated on another voyage, and still the same mystery encircled her as before.  She knew that Owen loved her.  This was the little circle of life in which she lived, and beyond it she might imagine any story she pleased.

Her thoughts reverted to the Eastern dreamer, and she realised that she was living through the tragedy which he had written about a thousand years ago in his rose garden.  She might imagine what she pleased—­that she was going to become a great singer, that artistic success was the harbour whither she steered, but in truth she did not know.  She could not believe such an end to be her destiny.  Then what was her destiny?  All she had ever known was behind her, had floated into the darkness as easily as those spectral ships; her religion, her father, her home, all had vanished, and all she knew was that she was sailing through the darkness without them.  Seen for a moment in the light of the high moon, and then in shrouded blue light, a great ship came and went, and Evelyn clung to the arm of her lover.  He folded the rough shawl he had bought at Charing Cross about her shoulders.  The lights of Calais harbour grew larger, the foghorn snorted, the vessel veered, and there was preparation on board; the crowd thickened, and as the night grew fainter they saw between the dawn and the silvery moon the long low sandhills of the French coast.  The vessel veered and entered the harbour, and as she churned alongside the windy piers, the mystery with which a moonlit sea had filled their hearts passed, and they were taken in an access of happiness; and they cried to each other for sheer joy as they struggled up the gangway.

They were in France! their life of love was before them!  He could hardly take his eyes off the delicious girl; and soon two or three waiters attended at her first meal, her first acquaintance with French food and wine!  Owen was known on the line, and the obsequiousness shown to him flattered her, and it was thrilling to read his name on the window of their carriage.  Her foot was on the footboard, and seeing the empty carriage the thought struck her, “We shall be alone; he’ll be able to kiss me.”  And, her heart beating with fear and delight, she got in and sat speechless in a corner.