Where Deep Seas Moan

by E. Gallienne Robin

At ten o'clock, and at a given signal, the masked girls went up to the group of men to choose partners. Perrin edged close to Dominic Le Mierre and scrutinized painfully the girl who laid her hand on the "jerseyed" arm of the master. She was of middle height and extremely thin. Her emaciated hand trembled; it looked almost discoloured in the uncertain light. The border of her face that could be seen round the mask was ghastly in its whiteness. She wore a close fitting bonnet which hid all trace of her hair.

With partially glazed eyes, Dominic peered at her.

"You don't look much of a beauty!" he cried, "but I'll soon see who you are, my girl!"

When the masks had all chosen, a circle was formed round the bonfire, the men holding their partners tightly by the hand. Faster and faster flew the circle till the masked faces shewed like a black band, while the outside throng of people cheered and clapped, and encouraged the dancers to madder whirling. Then, suddenly, as by one impulse, the circle was broken up, and a new spectacle was provided for the onlookers.

Each girl seized her partner by the hand and together they leapt across the flaming bonfire. Wild excitement was the order of the night. It was the festival of the rude, primitive elements of human nature. It was a pageant of black shadow and brilliant light. It answered to the spirit of the bleak moorland, to the steeps of the cliffs, to the mystery of the sea.

Only one man in the whole throng was utterly unmoved by the abandonment around him. Perrin kept his deep set, keen eyes fixed on Dominic and his partner. He watched them leap with perfect skill, across the roaring flame of the bonfire. He saw the master bend down, and once more peer into the white face of the girl. He followed, very stealthily, the two, as they drew apart into a shadowed place, where, nevertheless, the light from the bonfire could reach and bring their faces into relief. He watched the girl unfasten her mask and throw it on the grass. He drew a deep breath. Her face was pitifully ugly. It was covered with the pits and dents and scars that small-pox had left. The skin was coarse and rough and of a yellowish white. Her eyes were dim and red and bleared. Her eyebrows and lashes were gone. Her expression was like that of a furtive, crouching creature who dreaded the lash.

And it came.

"Who are you, I'd like to know!" cried the master in a towering rage, "that has dared to choose me only to cheat me. Do you know, woman, that you are as ugly as sin!"

He seized her bonnet and dragged it off. Then he burst into a brutal laugh.