learned from her father that during the sacred festival the temple was
closed to the outer world. It was not indeed forbidden to land on the
holy island, but it was considered a sacrilege for anyone not having
business there to enter the precincts of the temple, excepting on the
day of the ceremony which had just taken place. While bound to respect
this taboo, I was, nevertheless, drawn by an irresistible attraction to
the island, where I frequently spent hours in sailing about the wooded
shores, or loitering in the sacred avenue, hoping against hope that I
might see her passing by or in the distance. Although I was not so
fortunate, I enjoyed the satisfaction of being nearer to her, and as the
island seemed a perfect solitude, I could indulge my reverie in peace.

At last I made a discovery. In describing the ceremony of the Flower,
Otāré had spoken of a sacred grotto where the priestess went to bathe,
and on questioning him further, I ascertained that it was situated on
the shore of the island in a bay or inlet to the eastward of the quay,
and that she took her customary bath at set of sun.

That afternoon I made a thorough search and found a cavern in the rock
close to the beach of a secluded cove which I had overlooked until then.
A footpath, winding down the mountain side through the forest led to its
mouth, which was overhung and almost hid by a rich creeper with large
crimson blossoms. It was evidently the spot mentioned by Otāré, but
wishing to make sure, and impelled by curiosity in spite of a more
hallowed feeling, I lifted the creeper and was about to peer into the
darkness, when a sudden noise within made me jump back with affright. It
was the most horrible and excruciating shriek I had ever heard in my
life. If anyone by a refinement of cruelty were to compound a torture
for the ears, I do not think he could produce anything half so piercing,
gruesome, and discordant.