Then she could see his face, ghastly in the sunlight. There was madness in it—madness.
“O God of infinite mercy! My punishment is greater than I can bear. I bow to Thy Divine Will. I give up my belovèd; I give him up, if need be, for all eternity; but save him from the doom of the suicide. My life for his, O Lord, my life for his!”
He had turned, and was swimming on; but his movements were vague and uncertain. He clove the water feebly, pausing between each stroke and raising his head.
Suddenly he disappeared. The sparkling highway held no sign of him.
“Nigel!” she shrieked, “Nigel!”
The brown hands reappeared; the dark head rose out of the sea. But making no attempt to swim, he lifted his face to the sun, then raised his arms and went down again.
“O God, have mercy!”
Oh, mocking, vast expanse of gaily sparkling sea!
She held her breath and watched.
Ah! His hands again! His face—the eyes now wide and staring. He gasped; his chest heaved. He raised his head and shoulders out of the water; then slowly clasped his hands, lifted them above his head, and sank instantly.