Lamara took a path to the pavilion. The island, and all on it, was the place of private retreat for the young sovereign of Saturn, and was guarded by influences framed to repel all unauthorized intruders; only the initiates could enter. Thither, accordingly, Miriam had been conveyed from the scene of the conflict between Jack and the powers swayed by Torpeon. The prompt putting forth of exceptional resources had been required to accomplish this without injury to her; for had her trance been broken before the lapse of its period grave harm might have resulted. The situation, as it now stood, was perplexing; but Lamara felt confident that time and prudence would bring a happy solution. The conspirators had failed of their main object; and it was not to be supposed that Zarga would venture to cooperate in any further designs. Jack, though wofully misled, was still strong in his unalterable fidelity, and he would find redemption at last.
It was the revelation of Zarga’s perfidy that wounded Lamara most. Some rare quality in this girl’s soul had induced Lamara to give her her fullest confidence; her faults had seemed trivial and superficial. A certain adventurous independence of thought sometimes perceptible in her had given Lamara no uneasiness; it was due, she fancied, to the abounding in her of life too vivid to submit unquestioningly to the guidance of an elder experience. There was in the somewhat tumultuous nature of her youth the making of a great and noble character; and Lamara had often forborne reproof in the belief that Zarga’s own afterthought would administer a severer chiding. Yet now she stood convicted of an unpardonable crime.
No human soul, however, could sin beyond the limits of Lamara’s forgiveness. She might have harbored hopes even for Torpeon. And she would not divest herself of the belief that her favorite Zarga would yet repent and make amends.
At the spot on which the pavilion stood a spring gushed out of the ground, the abundant waters of which had been curiously led to run into architectural surfaces and forms—a plastic crystal forever flowing away with a pleasant murmur. The changing lights of day united with it to create continually shifting hues, and the gentle coolness which always reigned in its chambers aided to make it Lamara’s favorite place for rest and meditation.
Here, as being beyond all likelihood of disturbance, she had caused Miriam to be conveyed; no invader from Tor would dare to set foot on any part of the island, still less to violate the sanctities of the pavilion itself. The hour during which the trance prevailed was now for some time passed; but she had wished her visitor to awake alone in the translucent solitude, and to recollect herself under its soothing influence. She had planned that her own approach should take place at a moment when the girl should begin to feel anxiety as to what had befallen her.
Passing the threshold of the edifice she entered a small atrium, opening at the other side into an enclosed court. In the center of this played a fountain, whose upgush assumed successively various forms, treelike, animal or human. Several chambers surrounded the court, and in the central one of these Miriam had been laid.
Stepping lightly and smiling with pleasant anticipation, Lamara advanced to the door of this chamber and looked within. It was empty!
She repressed her first impulse of surprise and uneasiness, telling herself that Miriam must be somewhere in the pavilion; or might, at most, have wandered out along the winding paths that threaded the surrounding coppices and glades. She prosecuted her search with ever-increasing misgiving. The pavilion was untenanted. She came out into the garden, passing hastily through its lovely intricacies, but found no trace of the fugitive. The birds flitted after her with their songs, the fawns gamboled about her, and the shy little nature-people smiled and beckoned to her from nooks and leafy recesses. All things loved Lamara, and she loved all; but the beautiful earth-girl was nowhere to be seen.
Only initiates of the mysteries could either enter or leave the island unaccompanied. Only Aunion and herself had been there that day with Miriam. Yet Miriam had vanished.
What could have happened?