nda. She paused only long enough
to snatch up a shawl, as she passed through to the far side of the
house. Here she could be safe from hostile ears where the mountain
torrent ran thundering; safe from prying eyes in the velvet shadows of
the passion-vine.

She parted the leaves and harkened. A soft, thin trilling came up to her
from the edge of the guava jungle in the ravine, a mere silver thread of
melody against the stream's broad clamor. And then as she leaned farther
out, so that her face showed for a moment like a pale blossom in the
trellis, Motauri came. He came drifting through the moonlight with a
wreath of green about his head, a flower chain over his broad, bare
shoulders, clad only in a kilted white _pareu_--the very spirit of youth
and strength and joyous, untrammeled freedom, stepped down from the days
when Faunus himself walked abroad.

* * * * *

"Hokoolele!" he called gently, and smiled up toward her, the most
splendid figure of a man her eyes had ever beheld. "Star" was his name
for her, though indeed she was a very wan and shrinking one, and so to
lend her courage he sang the crooning native love-song that runs
somewhat like this:

_"Bosom, here is love for you,
O bosom, cool as night!
How you refresh me as with dew,
Your coolness gives delight!

"Rain is cold upon the hill
And water in the pool;
But, oh, my heart is yearning still
For you, O bosom cool!"_

"There is a night thistle blooming up the ravine," he said, "that looks
just like the candle-tree you lighted in the church last month. Do you
remember, Hokoolele? When I peeped through the window and you were
afraid the folk would see me? Ho-ho! Afraid the '_Klistian_' folk would
see their bad brother outside? But this is much prettier.... Come and
see if you can light the thistle."

She kept close to the shadow.

"Are you going to be afraid again?" he asked. "There is no one on the
whole mountain to-night. They are all down by the chapel staring at the
new lamps and parading themselves along the path. Two great big
fireflies by the path! You should see how they shine through the
trees."...

He seated himself on the veranda steps and laughed up over the shoulder
at her--laughter like a boy's or like a pagan god's.

It was that had tinged and made so live and subtle the fascination he
exercised upon her; his unspoiled innocence, his utter, wild simplicity
that struck back to th