The dozing watcher had called aloud; and, about to stab, the assassin,
dropping his stiletto, plunged.

Peering hard through those treacherous mists, two figures in a
shallop, were espied; dragging another, dripping, from the brine.

"Foiled again, and foiled forever. No foe's corpse was I."

As we gazed, in the gloom quickly vanished the shallop; ere ours could
be reversed to pursue.

Then, from the opposite mists, glided a second canoe; and beneath the
Iris round the moon, shone now another:--Hautia's flowery flag!

Vain to wave the sirens off; so still they came.

One waved a plant of sickly silver-green.

"The Midnight Tremmella!" cried Yoomy; "the falling-star of flowers!--
Still I come, when least foreseen; then flee."

The second waved a hemlock top, the spike just tapering its final
point. The third, a convolvulus, half closed. "The end draws nigh, and
all thy hopes are waning." Then they proffered grapes.

But once more waved off, silently they vanished.

Again the buried barb tore, at my soul; again Yillah was invoked, but
Hautia made reply.