What view of the divine passion do they take as a rule?  Let the millions of mistaken marriages answer!  Let the savage lusts and treacheries and cruelties of merely brutish and unspiritualised humanity bear witness?  And how few shall be found who have even the beginnings of the nature of true love—­’the love of soul for soul, angel for angel, god for god!’—­the love that accepts this world and its events as one phase only of divine and immortal existence—­a phase of trial and proving in which the greater number fail to pass even a first examination!  As for myself, I felt and knew that I had failed hopelessly and utterly in the past—­and I stood now as it were on the edge of new circumstances—­in fear, yet not without hope, and praying that whatsoever should chance to me I might not fail again!

X

STRANGE ASSOCIATIONS

The next day the race agreed upon was run in the calmest of calm weather.  There was not the faintest breath of wind,—­the sea was still as a pond and almost oily in its smooth, motionless shining—­ and it was evident at first that our captain entertained no doubt whatever as to the ‘Diana,’ with her powerful engines, being easily able to beat the aerial-looking ‘Dream’ schooner, which at noon-day, with all sails spread, came gliding up beside us till she lay point to point at equal distance and at nearly equal measurement with our more cumbersome vessel.  Mr. Harland was keenly excited; Dr. Brayle was ready to lay any amount of wagers as to the impossibility of a sailing vessel, even granted she was moved by electricity, out-racing one of steam in such a dead calm.  As the two vessels lay on the still waters, the ‘Diana’ fussily getting up steam, and the ‘Dream’ with sails full out as if in a stiff breeze, despite the fact that there was no wind, we discussed the situation eagerly—­or rather I should say my host and his people discussed it, for I had nothing to say, knowing that the victory was sure to be with Santoris.  We were in very lonely waters,—­there was room and to spare for plenty of racing, and when all was ready and Santoris saluted us from the deck, lifting his cap and waving it in response to a similar greeting from Mr. Harland and our skipper, the signal to start was given.  We moved off together, and for at least half an hour or more the ‘Dream’ floated along in a kind of lazy indolence, keeping up with us easily, her canvas filled, and her keel cutting the water as if swept by a favouring gale.  The result of the race was soon a foregone conclusion,—­for presently, when well out on the mirror-like calm of the sea, the ‘Dream’ showed her secret powers in earnest, and flew like a bird with a silent swiftness that was almost incredible.  Our yacht put on all steam in the effort to keep up with her,—­in vain!  On, on, with light grace and celerity her white sails carried her like the wings of a sea-gull, and almost before we could realise it she vanished