The slack breeze flapped lazily in the sails overhead and scarce ruffled the drowsy ocean.

The stars one by one put out their little lights and vanished into the blue.

There was no sound but the creaking of the yards and the gentle plash of the water on the hull; only these and the music of a maiden's song.

It went hard with me, that night.

For a while, as I sat there, gazing into her face and listening to her music and feeling the touch of her hand on my arm, I was fool enough to think all this--all this peace, all this beauty of the ocean dawn, all this lulling of the breeze, all this music, this gentle smile, this tender touch, spelt love; and there came a voice from the tempter that I should tell her as much then and there.