over the aviary, and their song hushed as they found themselves left in
the dark. Another opening formed a window, not glazed, but on touching a
spring, a shutter ascended from the floor, formed of some substance
less transparent than glass, but still sufficiently pellucid to allow
a softened view of the scene without. To this window was attached a
balcony, or rather hanging garden, wherein grew many graceful plants
and brilliant flowers. The apartment and its appurtenances had thus a
character, if strange in detail, still familiar, as a whole, to modern
notions of luxury, and would have excited admiration if found attached
to the apartments of an English duchess or a fashionable French author.
Before I arrived this was Zee's chamber; she had hospitably assigned it
to me.

Some hours after the waking up which is described in my last chapter, I
was lying alone on my couch trying to fix my thoughts on conjecture as
to the nature and genus of the people amongst whom I was thrown, when my
host and his daughter Zee entered the room. My host, still speaking
my native language, inquired with much politeness, whether it would be
agreeable to me to converse, or if I preferred solitude. I replied, that
I should feel much honoured and obliged by the opportunity offered me to
express my gratitude for the hospitality and civilities I had received
in a country to which I was a stranger, and to learn enough of its
customs and manners not to offend through ignorance.

As I spoke, I had of course risen from my couch: but Zee, much to my
confusion, curtly ordered me to lie down again, and there was something
in her voice and eye, gentle as both were, that compelled my obedience.
She then seated herself unconcernedly at the foot of my bed, while her
father took his place on a divan a few feet distant.