Page:Iracéma, the honey-lips (1886).djvu/34

sleeping Christian, and guarded him for the rest of the night. The emotions so lately undergone agitated her soul, and ripened all those sweet affections of her heart which the stranger՚s eyes had quickened to life.

She longed to protect him from all peril, to shelter him as though she were an impenetrable asylum. Then, deeds following her thoughts, she passed her arms round the sleeping warrior՚s neck and she pillowed his head upon her bosom.

But when the joy of seeing the stranger saved from the perils of the night had passed away, the thought of new dangers about to arise caused her the liveliest disquiet.

"The love of Iraçéma is like the wind of the desert-sands; it kills the flower of the forest," sighed the virgin.

And slowly she withdrew.

The white gleam of dawn awoke the day and opened the eyes of the white warrior. The morning light dissolved the visions of the night and drew from his mind the remembrance of his dream. There remained but a vague sensation, as the perfume of the cactus clings to the forest clump, even after the sharp wind from the mountains has laid it bare in the early morn.

He did not know where he was.

Leaving the sacred grove, he met Iraçéma. The virgin was leaning against a rough trunk in the holt. Her eyes were on the ground; the colour had fled her cheeks, and her heart trembled upon her lip, like drops of dew on the bamboo^[1] frond.