I saw nothing fantastical in this for I remembered having heard of those Italian jets, which produced hydraulic organs of a more or less successful nature, through means of air compressed by water. These sounds were sweet and very true, perhaps because they attempted no air and only sighed forth harmonious chords somewhat after the manner of eolian harps. I also remembered that Madame d’Ionis had spoken to me of this music, telling me that it was out of order, and that sometimes it played by itself for several minutes. This solution did not prevent me from pursuing the course of my poetical reveries. I was grateful to this capricious fountain who reserved its music for me alone, on such a beautiful night and amid so religious a silence. Seen thus by the light of the moon, the effect was startling, a shower of green diamonds appeared to be descending upon the fresh ferns that were planted around the border. There was something appalling in the appearance of the tritons, immovable in the midst of all this tumult, and their dying murmurs, mingled with the subdued sound of the cascades, made them seem as if in despair that their passionate souls should be chained in bodies of marble. One would have thought it a scene from Pagan life that had been suddenly petrified by the sovereign touch of the naiad. I then remembered the species of fear that this nymph had caused me in broad daylight, with her air of proud repose in the midst of these monsters writhing beneath her feet. Can an unemotional soul express true beauty? thought I, and should this creature of marble awake to life, despite her magnificence would she not terrify one, by that air of supreme indifference which renders her so superior to the beings of our race? I regarded her attentively in the light of the moonbeams which bathed her white shoulders and revealed her small head set upon a firm and slender neck as upon a column. I could not distinguish her features, as she was at too great a height; but her easy attitude was defined in brilliant lines with an incomparable grace. This is truly, thought I, the idea I would fain picture to myself of the green lady, for surely, seen thus.... Suddenly I ceased to reason or reflect. It seemed to me that I saw the statue move. I thought that a cloud was passing over the moon and had produced the illusion; but there was none. Only, it was not the statue that moved, it was a form that arose from behind or beside her, and which seemed exactly like her, as if an animate reflection had detached itself from this body of marble and had quitted it to approach me. For a moment I doubted the evidence of my senses, but it became so distinct, so positive, that I was soon convinced that I beheld a real being, and that I experienced no feeling of terror, nor even any very great surprise.