And the tempter seemed to be the son of that night, the son of that inexorable queen of the night, bearing with him the yielding girl. In her ears the night seemed to sing with his voice; and her small soul melted in tender compliance, under these magic powers. She walked on against his side, feeling the warmth of his body sinking into her yearning maidenhood; and she lifted her brimming gaze to him, with the languid light of her sparkling pupils glittering like diamonds in her eyes. He, drunk with the power of the night, the enchantress, who was as his mother, thought first of leading her still farther, no longer conscious of reality, no longer feeling any awe of her or of any one whatever; thought of leading her still farther, past the slumbering watchman, across the high road, into the compound, which lay hidden yonder between the stately plumes of the coco-palms that would form a canopy to their love; of leading her to a hiding-place, a house which he knew, a bamboo hut the door of which would be opened to him ... when suddenly she stopped ... and started ... and gripped his arm and pressed herself still more tightly against him and implored him to go no farther. She was frightened. "Why not?" he asked, gently, in his soft voice, which was as deep and velvety as the night. "Why not to-night, to-night at last?... There is no danger." But she shuddered and shook and entreated: "Addie, Addie, no ... no.... I daren't go any farther.... I'm frightened that the watchman will see us ... and then ... there's a hadji walking over there ... in a white turban...." He looked out at the road: on the farther side the kampong lay waiting, under the canopy of the coco-palms, with the bamboo hut whose door would be opened to him. "A hadji?... Where, Doddie? I don't see any one...." "He crossed the road; he looked back at us; he saw us: I saw his eyes gleaming; and he went into the compound, behind those trees." "Darling, I saw nothing, there's no one there." "Yes, there is! Yes, there is! Addie, I daren't go: oh, do let us go back!" His handsome Moorish face became overcast; he already saw the door of the little hut opened by the old woman whom he knew, who worshipped him as every woman worshipped him, from his mother to his little nieces. And he again tried to persuade her, but she refused, stood still, and clung to the ground with her little feet. Then they turned back and the clouds were sultrier, low on the horizon, and the velvety darkness fell more thickly, like warm snow, and the ravelled tjemaras were fuller and blacker than before. The house loomed up before them, sunk in sleep, with not a light showing. And he entreated her, he implored her not to leave him that night, saying that he would die, that night, without her.... Already she was yielding, promising, with her arms around his neck ... when again she started and again cried: "Addie! Addie!... There he is again!... That white figure!..."