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It must be a
hoax, and yet, if it were a hoax, what was I to make of it? What, too,
was to be said of the figures on the water, of the woman's extraordinary
acquaintance with the remote past, and her ignorance, or apparent
ignorance, of any subsequent history? What, too, of her wonderful and
awful loveliness? This, at any rate, was a patent fact, and beyond the
experience of the world. No merely mortal woman could shine with such
a supernatural radiance. About that she had, at any rate, been in the
right--it was not safe for any man to look upon such beauty. I was
a hardened vessel in such matters, having, with the exception of one
painful experience of my green and tender youth, put the softer sex
(I sometimes think that this is a misnomer) almost entirely out of my
thoughts. But now, to my intense horror, I _knew_ that I could never put
away the vision of those glorious eyes; and alas! the very _diablerie_
of the woman, whilst it horrified and repelled, attracted in even a
greater degree.


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