have avoided this misfortune."

As cool water upon the brow of a fevered man, fell the clear tones
of her voice upon Anthrops, bewildered and confused by the sudden
enchantment. She, indeed, called it a misfortune, but so cheerily and
gayly that her voice belied the term; and Anthrops insensibly plucked up
heart, and shook off somewhat of that paralyzing astonishment.

He assisted her to dismount, and, leaving the horses to their fate,
they together hunted for some opening in the dense thicket. After much
search, Anthrops succeeded in discovering a small gap in the brambles,
through which he and Haguna crept, but only into fresh perplexity. They
gained a path, but with it no prospect of rejoining their companions;
for it wound an intricate course between ramparts of vine-covered
shrubbery, that shut it in on either side and intercepted all extended
view. The way was too narrow to admit of more than one person passing at
a time; and as Haguna happened to have emerged first from the thicket,
she boldly took the lead, following the path until they emerged into a
more open part of the forest, where the undulating ground was entirely
free from underbrush, and the eye roamed at pleasure through the wide
glades. Haguna followed some unseen waymarks with sure step, still
tacitly compelling Anthrops to follow her without inquiry. As she sped
lightly over the turf, she began to hum a little song:--

"Nodding flowers, and tender grass,
Bend and let the lady pass!
Lighter than the south-wind straying,
In the spring, o'er leaves decaying,
Seeking for his ardent kisses
One small flower that he misses,
Will I press your snowy bosoms,
Dainty, darling little blossoms!"

Singing thus, she descended a little hill, and, gliding round its base,
disappeared under a thick grape-vine that swung across it from two lofty
elms on either side. A spider in conscious security had woven his web
across the archway formed by the drooping festoons of the vine; the
untrodden path was overgrown with moss. Haguna lifted up the vine
and passed under, beckoning Anthrops to follow. He heard her still
singing,--

"Quick unclasp your tendrils clinging,
Stealthily the trees enringing!
I have learnt your wily secret:
I will use it, I shall keep it!
Cunning spider, cease your spinning!
My web boasts the best beginning.
Yours is wan and pale and ashen:
After no such lifeless fashion
Mine is woven. Golden sunbeams
Pri