Page 252 - women-in-love

the midst of the dark land. The air all round was intangi-
ble, neither here nor there, and there was an unreal noise of
banjoes, or suchlike music.
As the golden swim of light overhead died out, the moon
gained brightness, and seemed to begin to smile forth her
ascendancy. The dark woods on the opposite shore melted
into universal shadow. And amid this universal under-
shadow, there was a scattered intrusion of lights. Far down
the lake were fantastic pale strings of colour, like beads of
wan fire, green and red and yellow. The music came out in
a little puff, as the launch, all illuminated, veered into the
great shadow, stirring her outlines of half-living lights, puff-
ing out her music in little drifts.
All were lighting up. Here and there, close against the
faint water, and at the far end of the lake, where the wa-
ter lay milky in the last whiteness of the sky, and there was
no shadow, solitary, frail flames of lanterns floated from the
unseen boats. There was a sound of oars, and a boat passed
from the pallor into the darkness under the wood, where
her lanterns seemed to kindle into fire, hanging in ruddy
lovely globes. And again, in the lake, shadowy red gleams
hovered in reflection about the boat. Everywhere were these
noiseless ruddy creatures of fire drifting near the surface of
the water, caught at by the rarest, scarce visible reflections.
Birkin brought the lanterns from the bigger boat, and the
four shadowy white figures gathered round, to light them.
Ursula held up the first, Birkin lowered the light from the
rosy, glowing cup of his hands, into the depths of the lan-
tern. It was kindled, and they all stood back to look at the

252 Women in Love