Helena, meanwhile, was bathing, for the last time, by the same sea-shore
with him. She was no swimmer. Her endless delight was to explore, to
discover small treasures. For her the world was still a great wonder-box
which hid innumerable sweet toys for surprises in all its crevices. She
had bathed in many rock-pools' tepid baths, trying first one, then
another. She had lain on the sand where the cold arms of the ocean
lifted her and smothered her impetuously, like an awful lover.
'The sea is a great deal like Siegmund,' she said, as she rose panting,
trying to dash her nostrils free from water. It was true; the sea as it
flung over her filled her with the same uncontrollable terror as did
Siegmund when he sometimes grew silent and strange in a tide of passion.
She wandered back to her rock-pools; they were bright and docile; they
did not fling her about in a game of terror. She bent over watching the
anemone's fleshy petals shrink from the touch of her shadow, and she
laughed to think they should be so needlessly fearful. The flowing tide
trickled noiselessly among the rocks, widening and deepening insidiously
her little pools. Helena retreated towards a large cave round the bend.
There the water gurgled under the bladder-wrack of the large stones; the
air was cool and clammy. She pursued her way into the gloom, bending,
though there was no need, shivering at the coarse feel of the seaweed
beneath her naked feet. The water came rustling up beneath the fucus as
she crept along on the big stones; it returned with a quiet gurgle which
made her shudder, though even that was not disagreeable. It needed, for
all that, more courage than was easy to summon before she could step off
her stone into the black pool that confronted her. It was festooned
thick with weeds that slid under her feet like snakes. She scrambled
hastily upwards towards the outlet.
Turning, the ragged arch was before heir, brighter than the brightest
window. It was easy to believe the light-fairies stood outside in a
throng, excited with fine fear, throwing handfuls of light into the
dragon's hole.
'How surprised they will be to see me!' said Helena, scrambling forward,
laughing.
She stood still in the archway, astounded. The sea was blazing with
white fire, and glowing with azure as coals glow red with heat below the
flames. The sea was transfused with white burning, while over it hung
the blue sky in a glory, like the blue smoke of the fire of God. Helena
stood still and worshipped. It was a moment of astonishment, when she
stood breathless and blinded, involuntarily offering herself for a
thank-offering. She felt herself confronting God at home in His white
incandescence, His fire settling on her like the Holy Spirit. Her lips
were parted in a woman's joy of adoration.