den among flowering plants and brilliant creepers, where
humming-birds darted from bush to bush, and parrots of all colours,
red and green and grey, shrieked in chorus. There he would find the
maiden waiting for him, and they would spend an hour or two under the
stars, which looked so large and bright that you felt as if you could
almost touch them.

'What did you do last night after you went home?' suddenly asked the
girl one evening.

'Just the same as I always do,' answered he. 'It was too hot to sleep,
so it was no use going to bed, and I walked straight off to the forest
and bathed in one of those deep dark pools at the edge of the river. I
have been there constantly for several months, but last night a
strange thing happened. I was taking my last plunge, when I
heard--sometimes from one side, and sometimes from another--the sound
of a voice singing more sweetly than any nightingale, though I could
not catch any words. I left the pool, and, dressing myself as fast as
I could, I searched every bush and tree round the water, as I fancied
that perhaps it was my friend who was playing a trick on me, but there
was not a creature to be seen; and when I reached home I found my
friend fast asleep.'

As Julia listened her face grew deadly white, and her whole body
shivered as if with cold. From her childhood she had heard stories of
the terrible beings that lived in the forests and were hidden under
the banks of the rivers, and could only be kept off by powerful
charms. Could the voice which had bewitched Alonzo have come from one
of these? Perhaps, who knows, it might be the voice of the dreaded
Yara herself, who sought young men on the eve of their marriage as her
prey.

For a moment the girl sat choked with fear, as these thoughts rushed
through her; then she said: 'Alonzo, will you promise me something?'

'What is that?' asked he.

'It is something that has to do with our future happiness.'

'Oh! it is serious, then? Well, of course I promise. Now tell me!'

'I want you to promise,' she answered, lowering her voice to a
whisper, 'never to bathe in those pools again.'

'But why not, queen of my soul; have I not gone there always, and
nothing has harmed me, flower of my heart?'

'No; but perhaps something will. If you will not promise I shall go
mad with fright. Promise me.'

'Why, what is the matter? You look so pale! Tell me why you are so
frightened?'

'Did you not hear the song?' she asked, trembling.