We climbed upward nearly to the summit; then Miela turned into one of the
cross-streets. I had found the climb tremendously tiring, though Miela
seemed not to notice it unduly, and I was glad enough when we reached this
street which girdled the mountain almost at the same level. We had gone
only a short distance along it, however, when Miela paused before a house
set somewhat back from the road on a terrace.

"My home," she said, and her voice trembled a little with emotion. "_Our_
home it shall be now, Alan, with Lua and Anina, our mother and sister."

A low, bushy hedge separated the street from a garden that surrounded the
house. The building was of stone, two stories in height. It was covered
with a thick vine bearing a profusion of vivid red flowers. On its flat
roof were tiny palm trees, a pergola with trellised vines, and still more
flowers, most of them of the same brilliant red. The whole was surrounded
by a waist-high parapet.

One corner of the roof was covered with thatch--a little nest where one
might be sheltered from the rain, and in which I could see a bed of palm
fiber. At one side of the house a tremendous cluster of bamboo curved
upward and over the roof. A path of chopped coconut husks led from the
street to a short flight of steps in the terrace at the front entrance.

We passed along this path and entered through the open doorway directly
into what I judged was the living room of the dwelling. It was some thirty
feet long and half as broad, with a high ceiling and stone floor. Its
three windows fronted the garden we had just left; in its farther wall a
low archway led into an adjoining room. The furniture consisted only of
two or three small tables and several low, wide couches, all of bamboo.

A woman and the girl Anina rose as we entered. Anina ran toward us
eagerly; the elder woman stood, quietly waiting. She was about forty years
of age, as tall as Miela, but heavier of build. She was dressed in loose
silk trousers, gathered at waist and ankle; and a wide sash that covered
her breast. Her hair was iron gray, cut short at the base of the neck.
From her shoulders I saw hanging a cloak that entirely covered her wings.

As she turned toward us I saw a serious, dignified, wholly patrician face,
with large, kindly dark eyes, a high, intellectual forehead, and a firm
yet sensitive mouth. She was the type of woman one would instinctively
mark for leader.

Miela ran forward to greet her mother, fa