Stella Fregelius: A Tale of Three Destinies

  Again and again Morris spoke eagerly, entreatingly, but the aerophonewas dumb. So he ceased at length, and even then well nigh laughed whenhe thought that in this useless piece of mechanism he saw a symbol ofhis own soul, which also had lost its mate and could hold true conversewith no other.

  Then he started up, and just as he was, ran out into the raving night.

  Three hours later, when the sun rose upon Christmas Day, if any had beenthere to note him they might have seen a dishevelled man standing aloneupon the lonely shore. There he stood, the back-wash of the mightycombers hissing about his knees as he looked seaward beneath the hollowof his hand at a spot some two hundred yards away, where one by onetheir long lines were broken into a churning yeast of foam.

  Morris knew well what broke them--the fallen ruins of the church thatwas now Stella's sepulchre, and, oh! in that dark hour, he would havebeen glad to seek her where she lay.