s startled by hearing,
close by, one of her own low, warbled expressions. There could be no
mistake; if the forest had been full of the sounds of animal life
and songs of melodious birds, her voice would have been instantly
distinguished from all others. How mysterious, how infinitely tender it
sounded in that awful blackness!--so musical and exquisitely modulated,
so sorrowful, yet piercing my heart with a sudden, unutterable joy.

"Rima! Rima!" I cried. "Speak again. Is it you? Come to me here."

Again that low, warbling sound, or series of sounds, seemingly from
a distance of a few yards. I was not disturbed at her not replying in
Spanish: she had always spoken it somewhat reluctantly, and only when
at my side; but when calling to me from some distance she would return
instinctively to her own mysterious language, and call to me as bird
calls to bird. I knew that she was inviting me to follow her, but I
refused to move.

"Rima," I cried again, "come to me here, for I know not where to step,
and cannot move until you are at my side and I can feel your hand."

There came no response, and after some moments, becoming alarmed, I
called to her again.

Then close by me, in a low, trembling voice, she returned: "I am here."

I put out my hand and touched something soft and wet; it was her breast,
and moving my hand higher up, I felt her hair, hanging now and streaming
with water. She was trembling, and I thought the rain had chilled her.

"Rima--poor child! How wet you are! How strange to meet you in such a
place! Tell me, dear Rima, how did you find me?"

"I was waiting--watching--all day. I saw you coming across the savannah,
and followed at a distance through the wood."

"And I had treated you so unkindly! Ah, my guardian angel, my light in
the darkness, how I hate myself for giving you pain! Tell me, sweet, did
you wish me to come back and live with you again?" She made no reply.
Then, running my fingers down her arm, I took her hand in mine. It was
hot, like the hand of one in a fever. I raised it to my lips and then
attempted to draw her to me, but she slipped down and out of my arms to
my feet. I felt her there, on her knees, with head bowed low. Stooping
and putting my arm round her body, I drew her up and held her against my
breast, and felt her heart throbbing wildly. With many endearing words I
begged her to speak to me; but her only reply was: "Come--come," as she
slipped again out of my arms and, holdi