d, the girl chose a shady retreat outside, and was
soon lost in her work.

Presently the dreamy silence was broken; faint cries from afar reached
her; and looking hastily up, Lianor saw a sight which made her stand
rooted to the spot in speechless horror.

In the distance, pouring from out the mountains, were a multitude of
Indians clad in divers costumes, carrying in their hands fantastic
idols, and followed by a train of Brahmins, singing a low, monotonous
chant, which had warned the girl of their approach.

Recovering her self-possession, and calling to the startled servants,
Lianor entered the temple, where Panteleone and the men were quietly
dozing.

"Leone, awake! The Indians are coming!"

The youth sprang to his feet, and, flinging one arm round his cousin,
he drew a sharp poignard from his sash, and clutched it firmly.

"Do not be afraid, Lianor. I will guard you with my life!" he said
bravely.

"But is there no way to escape?" Lianor asked wildly, frightened at
the peril into which her folly had brought them all.

"We might have gone; but it is too late. They are here," Toki said
gravely. "The only thing we can do is to hide amongst these broken
statues, and perhaps we may be safe from their view."

Scarcely had this been done than the procession arrived, stopped
before the temple, and the men commenced building a huge square pile
of wood; on this they placed a bier, on which lay the corpse of an old
man, decked with silks and costly jewels.

Lianor and Panteleone, watching from their hiding-place the strange
preparations, now saw a girl, very young and beautiful, but weeping
bitterly, being dragged toward the pile by a tall, hard-looking woman.

"Come!" she cried, in loud, ringing tones, "now is the time to uphold
the honor of your family, and show your courage!"

With a shudder the girl drew back, and clasping her hands piteously
together, said:

"Why should I thus sacrifice my young life to the cruelty of your
customs? I cannot endure the thought of being burnt alive--it is too
horrible!"

"It is your duty! A widow must follow her husband in death," coldly.

The youthful widow burst into passionate weeping, and gave an agonized
glance around at the vindictive faces; not one among that multitude,
she thought, felt pity for the girl who was condemned to so horrible a
fate.

She was mistaken, and a second gaze revealed a young boy, not more
than fifteen, who was quietly sobbing, an expressi