the strange-looking
habitation.

A wall of ivy, or some perennial vine, lay between him and the house.
A curtain of green leaves covered the entrance through this wall. This
appeared to have grown up by neglect. As Rolfe lifted this festoon, to
pass through, the sound of female voices greeted him. These voices
reached his ear in tones of the lightest mirth. At intervals came a
clear ringing laugh from some throat of silver, and then a plunging,
splashing sound of water. Rolfe conjectured that some females were in
the act of bathing, and not wishing to intrude upon them sat down for
a moment outside the wall. The sounds of merriment were still heard,
and among the soft tones the officer imagined that he could
distinguish the coarser voice of a man. Curiosity now prompted him to
enter. Moreover, he reflected that if there were men there already
there could not be much impropriety in his taking a share in the
amusement.

Drawing aside the curtain of leaves he looked in. The interior was a
garden, but evidently in a neglected state. It appeared the ruin of a
once noble garden and shrubbery. Broken fountains and statues
crumbling among weeds, and untrained rose-trees, met the eye. The
voices were more distinct, but those who uttered them were hidden by
a hedge of jessamines. Rolfe stepped silently up to this hedge and
peeped through an opening. The picture presented was indeed an
enchanting one.

A large fountain lay between him and the house filled with crystal
water. In this fountain two young girls were plunging and diving about
in the wildest abandon of mirth. The water was not more than waist
deep, and the arms and bosoms of the young girls appeared above its
surface. They were strikingly alike, in all except color. In this
there was a marked contrast. The neck, arms and bosom of one seemed
carved from snow-white marble, while the other's complexion was almost
as dark as mahogany. There was the same cast of features, the same
expression in both countenances, and their forms, just emerging from
the slender figure of girlhood, were exactly alike. Their long hair
trailed after them, black and luxuriant, on the surface of the water,
as they plunged and swam from one side of the basin to the other. A
huge negress sat upon the edge of the fountain, seemingly enjoying the
bath as much as those who partook of it. It was the voice of this
negress that Rolfe had mistaken for that of a man.

The young officer did not hesita