Presently I reached the pool from which the sound had come. Peering through the bushes I saw, seated in a dejected attitude by the edge of the pool, a very beautiful woman. In spite of the fact that she had been swimming, and her long dark hair hung dankly about her brown shoulders—wet hair is ever unbecoming to a woman—her beauty was amazing. The brown shoulders peeped from the heavy folds of the garment which she had thrown round her after her swim. It was of the colour prescribed for beings of the second class. The women of that class wear but one garment—a long piece of stuff like a plaid, that they drape about them. As I came into view she started up and gave a scream of terror.
"Do not be afraid," I called. "I mean you no harm. I will not hurt you."
As she looked at me further she seemed reassured. "I thought," she said, "at first that one of the gods had come to take me."
"What gods?" I asked.
"The gods that walk on four legs and against whom no man can do anything. Your dress is of the same colour that they wear."
"I am no god, but an ordinary man enough—a shipwrecked mariner cast up on this island a few weeks ago, and now planning to escape from it again."
"There is no escape," she said mournfully. "The gods know everything."
"Let me come down and speak with you."
"Come," she said. "I am not afraid any more."
"What do you do here?" I asked, as I sat beside her.