As the two companions flew onward, Perseus fancied that he could hear the rustle of a garment close by his side; and it was on the side opposite to the one where he beheld Quicksilver, yet only Quicksilver was visible.

“Whose garment is this,” inquired Perseus, “that keeps rustling close beside me in the breeze?”

“Oh, it is my sister’s!” answered Quicksilver.  “She is coming along with us, as I told you she would.  We could do nothing without the help of my sister.  You have no idea how wise she is.  She has such eyes, too!  Why, she can see you, at this moment, just as distinctly as if you were not invisible; and I’ll venture to say, she will be the first to discover the Gorgons.”

By this time, in their swift voyage through the air, they had come within sight of the great ocean, and were soon flying over it.  Far beneath them, the waves tossed themselves tumultuously in mid-sea, or rolled a white surf line upon the long beaches, or foamed against the rocky cliffs, with a roar that was thunderous, in the lower world; although it became a gentle murmur, like the voice of a baby half asleep, before it reached the ears of Perseus.  Just then a voice spoke in the air close by him.  It seemed to be a woman’s voice, and was melodious, though not exactly what might be called sweet, but grave and mild.

“Perseus,” said the voice, “there are the Gorgons.”

“Where?” exclaimed Perseus.  “I cannot see them.”

“On the shore of that island beneath you,” replied the voice.  “A pebble, dropped from your hand, would strike in the midst of them.”

“I told you she would be the first to discover them,” said Quicksilver to Perseus.  “And there they are!”

Straight downward, two or three thousand feet below him, Perseus perceived a small island, with the sea breaking into white foam all around its rocky shore, except on one side, where there was a beach of snowy sand.  He descended toward it, and, looking earnestly at a cluster or heap of brightness, at the foot of a precipice of black rocks, behold, there were the terrible Gorgons!  They lay fast asleep, soothed by the thunder of the sea; for it required a tumult that would have deafened everybody else to lull such fierce creatures into slumber.  The moonlight glistened on their steely scales, and on their golden wings, which drooped idly over the sand.  Their brazen claws, horrible to look at, were thrust out, and clutched the wave-beaten fragments of rock, while the sleeping Gorgons dreamed of tearing some poor mortal all to pieces.  The snakes that served them instead of hair seemed likewise to be asleep; although, now and then, one would writhe, and lift its head, and thrust out its forked tongue, emitting a drowsy hiss, and then let itself subside among its sister snakes.

The Gorgons were more like an awful, gigantic kind of insect—­immense, golden-winged beetles, or dragon-flies, or things of that sort—­at once ugly and beautiful—­than like anything else; only that they were a thousand and a million times as big.  And, with all this, there was something partly human about them, too.  Luckily for Perseus, their faces were completely hidden from him by the posture in which they lay; for, had he but looked one instant at them, he would have fallen heavily out of the air, an image of senseless stone.