appeared of supernatural magnitude. The drooping cattle, on the sides
of the hills, stretching out their necks towards heaven, and panting for
breath, made the valleys re-echo with their melancholy lowings: even the
Caffre by whom they were led threw himself upon the earth, in search of
some cooling moisture: but his hopes were vain; the scorching sun
had penetrated the whole soil, and the stifling atmosphere everywhere
resounded with the buzzing noise of insects, seeking to allay their
thirst with the blood of men and of animals.

During this sultry season, Virginia's restlessness and disquietude were
much increased. One night, in particular, being unable to sleep, she
arose from her bed, sat down, and returned to rest again; but could find
in no attitude either slumber or repose. At length she bent her way, by
the light of the moon, towards her fountain, and gazed at its spring,
which, notwithstanding the drought, still trickled, in silver threads
down the brown sides of the rock. She flung herself into the basin: its
coolness reanimated her spirits, and a thousand soothing remembrances
came to her mind. She recollected that in her infancy her mother and
Margaret had amused themselves by bathing her with Paul in this very
spot; that he afterwards, reserving this bath for her sole use, had
hollowed out its bed, covered the bottom with sand, and sown aromatic
herbs around its borders. She saw in the water, upon her naked arms and
bosom, the reflection of the two cocoa trees which were planted at her
own and her brother's birth, and which interwove above her head their
green branches and young fruit. She thought of Paul's friendship,
sweeter than the odour of the blossoms, purer than the waters of the
fountain, stronger than the intertwining palm-tree, and she sighed.
Reflecting on the hour of the night, and the profound solitude, her
imagination became disturbed. Suddenly she flew, affrighted, from those
dangerous shades, and those waters which seemed to her hotter than the