Anthrops started; in that country murder was a capital offence.

“I do not mean,” continued the philosopher, serenely, “by any forcible diminution of the existing populace:  unfortunately, the vulgar prejudices in favor of life are so strong, owing to the miserable preponderance of the Egoistic over the Altruistic instincts, that such an expedient would be unadvisable.  I refer to the”—­

“What splendid hair!” suddenly exclaimed his young companion, starting forward with great animation to gain a nearer glimpse of its beauties.  The owner had stopped for a moment in passing the secluded couple, and the rich chestnut head was presented in clear relief against the confused mass of color and light that streamed through the doorway of the saloon.  The billows of hair rose from purple depths of shadow into gleaming crests of golden light, and fell away again in long undulations into the whirlpool of the knot.

While Anthrops was feasting his rapt eyes on the lovely picture, some treacherous fastening gave way, and the whole wavy mass overflowed upon the white shoulders.  Then there was bustling and officious assistance, then there was flitting of maidens and crowding of men.  They did not care that the hair of the Naiads in the waterfall outside of the city floated all day long over the glittering green waters, or that the soughing grass in the marsh stream lazily swayed to and fro always in sleepy ripples, or that the waving tresses of the weeping-willows were even then sweeping dreamily through the colored air:  they cared for none of these things; but how eager and anxious were they to gain one glimpse of her,—­fairer in her blushing confusion than before in her stately loveliness!  She wound up the long tresses in her hand, and was retreating to the dressing-room, when the music, which had paused for a moment, renewed itself in an inspiriting waltz.  Anthrops, forgetful of wheat, potatoes, and universal famine, rushed forward to claim her hand for the dance.  The lady sighed, the waltz was so lovely, the young man so attractive, but—­her hair?  She really must arrange that before anything could be determined in any other direction.  And she started backwards in her embarrassment to reach the stairs, and slipped into a little anteroom by mistake.  There was but one door; so, when Anthrops followed her in, she could not get out, without at least hearing an additional reason for dancing.

“The waltz will be finished,” urged Anthrops.  “Take this little dagger, and wind your hair around that; it will be a fitting ornament for you.”

As he spoke, he drew from his pocket a small dagger, a toy, but richly carved at the hilt, and offered it to the maiden.  He had bought it that day for a little nephew, and had happened to leave it in his pocket.  Doubtless, had the waltz been less enticing, or the youth less handsome, or the little anteroom less secluded, Haguna would have rejected the odd assistance.  But, as it was, she accepted the jewelled toy, and in a few minutes had dexterously hidden the tiny blade with the thick coils of hair, just leaving the curiously carved face on the hilt to emerge from its shadowy nestling-place.