They remained standing with his head on her shoulder for some time, till
at last he raised himself to lay his lips on hers in a long kiss of
healing and renewal--long, pale kisses of after-suffering.

Someone was coming along the path. Helena let him go, shook herself
free, turned sharply aside, and said: 'Shall we go down to the water?' 'If you like,' he replied, putting out his hand to her. They went thus
with clasped hands down the cliff path to the beach.

There they sat in the shadow of the uprising island, facing the restless
water. Around them the sand and shingle were grey; there stretched a
long pale line of surf, beyond which the sea was black and smeared with
star-reflections. The deep, velvety sky shone with lustrous stars.

As yet the moon was not risen. Helena proposed that they should lie on a
tuft of sand in a black cleft of the cliff to await its coming. They lay
close together without speaking. Each was looking at a low, large star
which hung straight in front of them, dripping its brilliance in a thin
streamlet of light along the sea almost to their feet. It was a
star-path fine and clear, trembling in its brilliance, but certain upon
the water. Helena watched it with delight. As Siegmund looked at the
star, it seemed to him a lantern hung at the gate to light someone home.
He imagined himself following the thread of the star-track. What was
behind the gate?