96 THE HAUNTED 



by day, the lake on that particular night 

 was bespangled with glittering stars that 

 were mirrored on its placid surface. 

 The desolation and loneliness that ever 

 seem to haunt that quiet stretch of water 

 and those majestic old rocks oppress the 

 mind, and one involuntarily listens and 

 longs for a sound. But only the low 

 swish of a tiny waterfall on the other side 

 falls upon the ear, and it rises and sinks 

 like the sighing of some troubled spirit 

 as the night air drifts this way or that. 

 Not a fish was moving when we 

 arrived, not a ripple broke the glassy 

 water, and the white stars of those un- 

 fathomable depths were as still as they 

 were in the blue-black sky. After a little 

 while, however, there was a flop in the 

 distance, then another, and in a few 

 seconds some little waves came rolling 

 towards the shore. The stars danced 

 over them, and the water lapped against 

 the stones or sucked into the creeks of 



