"We do not know," said the nautilus; "but it is always full."
The Child pressed his hand on his eyebrows,—it seemed too great and difficult for him to understand; and then the thought crossed him that the nautilus might have learned the words of the Song from his ancestors who lived so very long ago, and he sat still and listened.
So they floated out of sight of land into the deep sea, and, mingled with the quiet plash of the waves, came from around and beneath the old sweet solemn Song. But it was always without words.
It was delightful to float about thus over the deep sea,—to be rocked up and down on the great waves. There were no breakers, no foam—only the constant heaving and rocking of the blue waves, with their emerald lights and purple shadows. And the Child shut his eyes and listened, with one hand round a horn of the volute shell, and the other laid on the Nautilus, whilst the Velella unfurled her sail before them in the sunshine; and he thought his dream had come true.
When he looked around again, numbers of strange and beautiful creatures were floating around him, just below the surface of the water. Among them was a large crystal umbrella fringed with delicate fringes, with a quatre-foil of crimson in the centre, and numbers of small feelers flashing to and fro in the clear sea underneath.
"Do you not know me?" it said. "I am the medusa you saved when wrecked on your shore; and these are some of my relations gathered to welcome you amongst us." And as she spoke, the little fleet formed in order around him to do him honour; and they sang, "Stay with us, and be our little King!"
Some spread their fairy transparent canopies, and shook all their delicate fringes for joy; some flashed about little streamers—golden, and rose, and opal-green—like flags on a festival; some spread sunny sails, like the Velella; some tiny crystal globes darted in and out among the rest, near the surface; and farther down in the clear water, as far as the child's eyes could penetrate, the same living crystal globes, and canopies, and balloons, flashed to and fro.
One little creature, however, delighted the Child beyond all the rest. It was a tiny crystal globe, not larger than a hazel-nut, divided by eight exquisite ribs. Each rib was formed of countless crystal plates like the plates of a paddle-wheel, and each tiny plate was incessantly vibrating up and down, carrying the restless little creature hither and thither as it pleased, and making it flash with their ceaseless movement like a balloon of sunbeams; while from underneath shot two delicate threads fringed with many branching fibres, which were for ever curving and waving about.
"What is your name?" asked the Child. "Why are you never still?"
"I am the Beroe," said the little balloon; "and those threads are my fishing lines."