'Jupiter!' cried Jack at last. 'Of all the awful death-traps I ever saw or heard of, commend me to this! A horrible death pool! But what in the name of all that is fiendish is that awful plant?'
'It's some kind of cannibal plant, I suppose,' said Gerald.
'Yes, that is right,' Alondra agreed. 'I have heard there are such plants on our globe in some remote corners, but I have never seen one before.'
'What does anybody want to keep such a monstrous, uncanny affair for?' queried Jack indignantly.
'I never heard that they grew to such a size,' Alondra added. 'This must have been growing here many years to become so large, I should say.'
'A nice sort of pet to cultivate and pamper!' Jack grumbled. 'What do they feed it on, I wonder? Such a thing ought not to be allowed! It's a public danger!'
'There's a warning on the door,' Gerald reminded him. 'After all, it's our own fault, I 'm afraid people will say, for coming here.'
'My fault, you mean—for I was the one who yielded first to curiosity, and so drew you here,' Alondra confessed.
'Oh, we should have come in on our own, you may be pretty sure of that,' Jack declared. 'We were just discussing the point when we heard you call out.'
'It's a very beautiful flower,' Gerald observed, looking attentively at the large, handsome blossoms, 'and the scent is delicious. Who would imagine that anything so lovely to look at could be so treacherous—so deadly?'