He could see the narrow funnel of its waters, smooth, shining like jet, unspecked by foam, solid to all appearances; but, as he was aware, alive, every atom of them, instinct with some frightful energy, the very face of force--and in the teeth of it, less than a dead leaf, himself.
Down he went, down, and still above him shone the beautiful, pitying, changeless eyes; and still round him echoed that strange, searching music.

The eyes receded, the music became faint, and then--blackness..