over the seaward half of the world； a dazzling； terrifying glare
of white light。 They shrank back for a moment into shadow；
uttering a cry。 He felt his chest laid bare； where the secret
was heavily hidden。 He felt himself fusing down to nothingness；
like a bead that rapidly disappears in an incandescent
flame。
〃How wonderful！〃 cried Ursula； in low； calling tones。 〃How
wonderful！〃
And she went forward； plunging into it。 He followed behind。
She too seemed to melt into the glare； towards the moon。
The sands were as ground silver； the sea moved in solid
brightness； ing towards them； and she went to meet the
advance of the flashing； buoyant water。 ＇She gave her breast
to the moon； her belly to the flashing； heaving water。＇ He stood
behind； enpassed； a shadow ever dissolving。
She stood on the edge of the water； at the edge of the solid；
flashing body of the sea； and the wave rushed over her feet。
〃I want to go；〃 she cried； in a strong； dominant voice。 〃I
want to go。〃
He saw the moonlight on her face； so she was like metal； he
heard her ringing； metallic voice； like the voice of a harpy to
him。
She prowled； ranging on the edge of the water like a
possessed creature； and he followed her。 He saw the froth of the
wave followed by the hard； bright water swirl over her feet and
her ankles； she swung out her arms； to balance； he expected
every moment to see her walk into the sea； dressed as she was；
and be carried swimming out。
But she turned； she walked to him。
〃I want to go；〃 she cried again； in the high； hard voice；
like the scream of gulls。
〃Where？〃 he asked。
〃I don't know。〃
And she seized hold of his arm； held him fast； as if captive；
and walked him a little way by the edge of the dazzling； dazing
water。
Then there in the great flare of light； she clinched hold of
him； hard； as if suddenly she had the strength of destruction；
she fastened her arms round him and tightened him in her grip；
whilst her mouth sought his in a hard； rending； ever…increasing
kiss； till his body was powerless in her grip； his heart melted
in fear from the fierce； beaked； harpy's kiss。 The water washed
again over their feet； but she took no notice。 She seemed
unaware； she seemed to be pressing in her beaked mouth till she
had the heart of him。 Then； at last； she drew away and looked at
him……looked at him。 He knew what she wanted。 He took her by
the hand and led her across the foreshore； back to the
sandhills。 She went silently。 He felt as if the ordeal of proof
was upon him； for life or death。 He led her to a dark
hollow。
〃No； here；〃 she said； going out to the slope full under the
moonshine。 She lay motionless； with wide…open eyes looking at
the moon。 He came direct to her； without preliminaries。 She held
him pinned down at the chest； awful。 The fight； the struggle for
consummation was terrible。 It lasted till it was agony to his
soul； till he succumbed； till he gave way as if dead； lay with
his face buried； partly in her hair； partly in the sand；
motionless； as if he would be motionless now for ever； hidden
away in the dark； buried； only buried； he only wanted to be
buried in the goodly darkness； only that； and no more。
He seemed to swoon。 It was a long time before he came to
himself。 He was aware of an unusual motion of her breast。 He
looked up。 Her face lay like an image in the moonlight； the eyes
wide open； rigid。 But out of the eyes； slowly； there rolled a
tear； that glittered in the moonlight as it ran down her
cheek。
He felt as if as the knife were being pushed into his already
dead body。 With head strained back； he watched； drawn tense； for
some minutes； watched the unaltering； rigid face like metal in
the moonlight； the fixed； unseeing eye； in which slowly the
water gathered； shook with glittering moonlight； then
surcharged； brimmed over and ran trickling； a tear with its
burden of moonlight； into the darkness； to fall in the sand。
He drew gradually away as if afraid； drew away……she did
not move。 He glanced at her……she lay the same。 Could he
break away？ He turned； saw the open foreshore； clear in front of
him； and he plunged away； on and on； ever farther from the
horrible figure that lay stretched in the moonlight on the sands
with the tears gathering and travelling on the motionless；
eternal face。
He felt； if ever he must see her again； his bones must be
broken； his body crushed； obliterated for ever。 And as yet； he
had the love of his own living body。 He wandered on a long； long
way； till his brain drew dark and he was unconscious with
weariness。 Then he curled in the deepest darkness he could find；
under the sea…grass； and lay there without consciousness。
She broke from her tense cramp of agony gradually； though
each movement was a goad of heavy pain。 Gradually； she lifted
her dead body from the sands； and rose at last。 There was now no
moon for her； no sea。 All had passed away。 She trailed her dead
body to the house； to her room； where she lay down inert。
Morning brought her a new access of superficial life。 But all
within her was cold； dead； inert。 Skrebensky appeared at
breakfast。 He was white and obliterated。 They did not look at
each other nor speak to each other。 Apart from the ordinary；
trivial talk of civil people； they were separate； they did not
speak of what was between them during the remaining two days of
their stay。 They were like two dead people who dare not
recognize； dare not see each other。
Then she packed her bag and put on her things。 There were
several guests leaving together； for the same train。 He would
have no opportunity to speak to her。
He tapped at her bedroom door at the last minute。 She stood
with her umbrella in her hand。 He closed the door。 He did not
know what to say。
〃Have you done with me？〃 he asked her at length； lifting his
head。
〃It isn't me；〃 she said。 〃You have done with me……we have
done with each other。〃
He looked at her； at the closed face； which he thought so
cruel。 And he knew he could never touch her again。 His will was
broken； he was seared； but he clung to the life of his body。
〃Well； what have I done？〃 he asked； in a rather querulous
voice。
〃I don't know；〃 she said； in the same dull； feelingless
voice。 〃It is finished。 It had been a failure。〃
He was silent。 The words still burned his bowels。
〃Is it my fault？〃 he said； looking up at length； challenging
the last stroke。
〃You couldn't〃 she began。 But she broke
down。
He turned away； afraid to hear more。 She began to gather her
bag； her handkerchief； her umbrella。 She must be gone now。 He
was waiting for her to be gone。
At length the carriage came and she drove away with the rest。
When she was out of sight； a great relief came over him； a
pleasant banality。 In an instant； everything was obliterated。 He
was childishly amiable and panionable all the day long。 He
was astonished that life could be so nice。 It was better than it
had been before。 What a simple thing it was to be rid of her！
How friendly and simple everything felt to him。 What false thing
had she been forcing on him？
But at night he dared not be alone。 His room…mate had gone；
and the hours of darkness were an agony to him。 He watched the
window in suffering and terror。 When would this horrible
darkness be lifted off him？ Setting all his nerves； he endured
it。 He went to sleep with the dawn。
He never thought of her。 Only his terror of the hours of
night grew on him； obsessed him like a mania。 He slept fitfully；
with constant wakings of anguish。 The fear wore away the core of
him。
His plan was to sit up very late： drink in pany until one
or half…past one in the morning； then he would get three hours
of sleep； of oblivion。 It was light by five o'clock。 But he was
shocked almost to madness if he opened his eyes on the
darkness。
In the daytime he was all right； always occupied with the
thing of the moment； adhering to the trivial present； which
seemed to him ample and satisfying。 No matter how little and
futile his occupations were； he gave himself to them entirely；
and felt normal and fulfilled。 He was always active； cheerful；
gay； charming； trivial。 Only he dreaded the darkness and silence
of his own bedroom； when the darkness should challenge him upon
his own soul。 That he could not bear； as he could not bear to
think about Ursula。 He had no soul； no background。 He never
thought of Ursula； not once； he gave her no sign。 She was the
darkness； the challenge； the horror。 He turned to immediate
things。 He self from the
darkness； the challenge of his own soul。 He would marry his
Colonel's daughter。 Quickly； without hesitation； pursued by his
obsession for activity； he wrote to this girl； telling her his
engagement was broken……it had been a temporary infatuation
which he less than any one else could understand now it was
over……and could he see his very dear friend soon？ He would
not be happy till he had an answer。
He received a rather surprised reply from the girl； but she
would be glad to see him。 She was living with her aunt。 He went
down to her at once； and proposed to her the first evening。 He
was accepted。 The marriage took place quietly within fourteen
days' time。 Ursula was not notified of the event。 In another
week； Skrebensky sailed with his new wife to India。
CHAPTER XVI
THE RAINBOW
Ursula went home to Beldover faint； dim； closed up。 She could
scarcely speak or notice。 It was as if her energy were frozen。
Her people asked her what was the matter。 She told them she had
broken off the engagement with Skrebensky。 They looked blank and
angry。 But she could not feel any more。
The weeks crawled by in apathy。 He would have sailed for
India now。 She was scarcely interested。 She was inert； without
strength or interest。
Suddenly a shock ran through her； so violent that she thought
she was struck down。 Was she with child？ She had been so
stricken under the pain of herself and of him； this had never
occurred to her。 Now like a flame it took hold of her limbs and
body。 Was she with child？
In the first flaming hours of wonder； she did not know what
she felt。 She was as if tied to the stake。 The flames were
licking her and devouring her。 But the flames were also good。
They seemed to wear her away to rest。 What she felt in her heart
and her womb she did not know。 It was a kind of swoon。
Then gradually the heaviness of her heart pressed and pressed
into consciousness。 What was she doing？ Was she bearing a child？
Bearing a child？ To what？
Her flesh thrilled； but her soul was sick。 It seemed； this
child； like the seal set on her own nullity。 Yet she was glad in
her flesh that she was with child。 She began to think； that she
would write to Skrebensky； that she would go out to him； and
marry him； and live simply as a good wife to him。 What did the
self； the form of life matter？ Only the living from day to day
mattered； the beloved existence in the body； rich； peaceful；
plete； with no beyond； no further trouble； no further
plication。 She had been wrong； she had been arrogant and
wicked； wanting that other thing； that fantastic freedom； that
illusory； conceited fulfilment which she had imagined she could
not have with Skrebensky。 Who was she to