ed to the forest.

He did not stop till he had reached the river pool, when holding the
pistol in his hand, he looked about him. At every little noise--the
falling of a leaf, the rustle of an animal in the bushes, the cry of a
night-bird--he sprang up and cocked his pistol in the direction of the
sound. But though the moon still shone he saw nothing, and by and by
a kind of dreamy state seemed to steal over him as he leant against a
tree.

How long he remained in this condition he could not have told, but
suddenly he awoke with a start, on hearing his name uttered softly.

'Who is that?' he cried, standing upright instantly; but only an echo
answered him. Then his eyes grew fascinated with the dark waters of the
pool close to his feet, and he looked at it as if he could never look
away.

He gazed steadily into the depths for some minutes, when he became aware
that down in the darkness was a bright spark, which got rapidly bigger
and brighter. Again that feeling of awful fear took possession of
him, and he tried to turn his eyes from the pool. But it was no use;
something stronger than himself compelled him to keep them there.

At last the waters parted softly, and floating on the surface he saw
the beautiful woman whom he had fled from only a few nights before. He
turned to run, but his feet were glued to the spot.

She smiled at him and held out her arms, but as she did so there came
over him the remembrance of Julia, as he had seen her a few hours
earlier, and her warnings and fears for the very danger in which he now
found himself.

Meanwhile the figure was always drawing nearer, nearer; but, with a
violent effort, Alonzo shook off his stupor, and taking aim at her
shoulder he pulled the trigger. The report awoke the sleeping echoes,
and was repeated all through the forest, but the figure smiled still,
and went on advancing. Again Alonzo fired, and a second time the bullet
whistled through the air, and the figure advanced nearer. A moment more,
and she would be at his side.

Then, his pistol being empty, he grasped the barrel with both hands, and
stood ready to use it as a club should the Yara approach and closer. But
now it seemed her turn to feel afraid, for she paused an instant while
he pressed forward, still holding the pistol above his head, prepared to
strike.

In his excitement he had forgotten the river, and it was not till the
cold water touched his feet that he stood still by instinct. The Yara