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Chapter 62 - Page 2
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troubled me but little. But now and then of an evening, when thick
and fleet the shadows were falling, dim glimpses of a canoe would be
spied; hovering about the place like a ghost. And once, in the
stillness of the night, hearing the near ripple of a prow, I sallied
forth, but the phantom quickly departed.
That night, Yillah shuddered as she slept. "The whirl-pool," she
murmured, "sweet mosses." Next day she was lost in reveries, plucking
pensive hyacinths, or gazing intently into the lagoon.
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