ed too, and there were mats, rugs, and cushions to
make comfortable seats for the ladies. In the boat, most beautifully
trimmed, were a harp, guitars, accordeons, and a carabao's horn; in
the other burned a ship's fire; and tea, coffee and salabat--a tea
of ginger sweetened with honey--were making for the first breakfast.

"The women here, the men there," said the mamas, embarking; "move
carefully, don't stir the boat or we shall capsize!"

"And we're to be in here all alone?" pouted Sinang.

Slowly the boats left the beach, reflecting in the mirror of the lake
the many lights of their lanterns. In the east were the first streaks
of dawn.

Comparative silence reigned. The separation established by the ladies
seemed to have dedicated youth to meditation. The water was perfectly
tranquil, the fishing-grounds were near; it was soon decided to abandon
the oars, and breakfast. Day had come, and the lanterns were put out.

It was a beautiful morning. The light falling from the sky and
reflected from the water made radiant the surface of the lake, and
bathed everything in an atmosphere of clearness saturated with color,
such as some marines suggest. Everybody, even the mamas, laughed and
grew merry. "Do you remember, when we were girls--" they began to each
other; and Maria and her young companions exchanged smiling glances.

One man alone remained a stranger to this gayety--it was the
helmsman. Young, of athletic build, his melancholy eyes and the severe
lines of his lips gave an interest to his face, and this was heightened
by his long black hair falling naturally about his muscular neck. His
wrists of steel managed like a feather the large and heavy oar which
served as rudder to guide the two barks.

Maria Clara had several times met his eyes, but he quickly turned
them away to the shores or the mountains. Pitying his solitude,
she offered him some cakes. With a certain surprise he took one,
refusing the others, and thanked her in a voice scarcely audible. No
one else seemed to think of him.

The early breakfast done, the party moved off toward the fishing
enclosures. There were two, a little distance apart, both the property
of Captain Tiago. In advance, a flock of white herons could be seen,
some moving among the reeds, some flying here and there, skimming
the water with their wings, and filling the air with their strident
cries. Maria Clara followed them with her eyes, as, at the approach
of the two barks, they