The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1892-10-01

commodious apartments at the eXtrem-
ity of the left wing. They commune
Gated through long windows with the
veranda in front, and by means of doors
with the passage or hall, traversing the
house from end to end. If, therefore, she
| happened to be sleepless, she might issue
| forth into the garden and wander about
! there without let or hindrance until she
was ready to accept the wooing of the
| god OF dreams; or, if supernatural terrors
| daunted her, she could in few seconds
| transfer herself and her fears to Miriam's
| chamber, which occupied the same posi-
| ton in the right wing that hers did in the
left.
The night, as is customary in that eli
| mate, where the atmosphere is pure and
the evaporation rapid, was cool and still.
by ~ o'cIock there was no sound to indi-
| cate that any person was awake, though,
TO an acute ear, the rise and fall of regu-
lar breathing, or even an occasional
snore, might have given evidence of
slumber. At the back of the house the
Indian retainers were wrapped in silence
They were harmless people-Somewha
disposed, perhaps, to small pilferings, in
| an amIable and loyal way, but incapable
of anything seriously criminal. There
| were no locks on the doors, and most of
| them stood ajar. Tramps and burglars
were unknown.
| Miriam, having put on her night
dow gazing out on the soft darkness
Of the garden. The leaves Of the plants
hung motfonless; the blossoms seemed
to hush themselves to the enjoyment
OF their own sweetness. The sky was
clear, but there was no moon. A beauti-
full planet, however, bright enough to
| cast shadow, hung in the southwestern
| sky, and its mysterious light touched Mi
RAMS face and cast dim rectangle of ra-
| dance on the white mating that carpeted
her room. 1t was the planet Venus, the
star of love. Miriam thought it would
| be pleasant place to live in. But one
need not journey to Venus to find a
| world where love is the ruling passion.
| circumstances over which she has no
| control may cause such world to come
| into existence in .girPs heart.
She left the window at last and got into
! bed, where she soon presented an image
OF perfect repose. Meanwhile, in dark
| dark, pyranlidal object abode without
| motion. 1t might have been taken for a
| heap Of blankets piled up there But if
| you examined 1t more narrowly you
| would have detected in it the vague out
lines of human figure. squatting on it's
haunches, with ats head resting on its
| knees and its arms clasped around them
somewhat as figures sit in Egyptian
hieroglyphics, or like as Aztecan mum
| mics in the tomb. So still was it, it might
| itself have been mummy. But ever
and anon blinking of the narrow ewes
IN the bronze countenance told it was no
mummy, but living creature. In fact,
1t was none other than the aged and aus
| tere kamaiakan, who, for reasons best
known to himself, chose to spend the
| hours usually devoted to rest in an atti-
tude that no European or white Ameri-
can could have maintained with comfort
| longer than five minutes.
An hour-two hours-passed away
| Then Kamaiakan noiseIessly arose.
| peered about him cautiously for few
| moments, and passed out of the court
| yard through the open gate. He turned
to the left, and stealing beneath Nliriam's
| windows paused there for an instant and
| made certain gestures with his arms.
Anon he continued his way to the garden
and was soon concealed beneath the thick
shrubbery.
| History requires us to follow him. The
| garden extended westward and was quite
| a spacious enclosure; one not familiar
with its winding paths might easily lose
| himself there on'a dark night. But Ka-
maiakan knew where he was going and
| the way thither. He now stalked along
more swiftly, taking one turn after an
| other, brushing aside the low-hanging
boughs and passing the loveliest flowers
| without glance. He was as one preoc-
cupied with momentous business. Pres