By this time they had ridden deep into the still woods.  Following the light current of their talking, they wound in and out among the green trees, under their broad arching boughs,—­now following the path, now beating a new track over the short grass mixed with the crisp gray moss.  The sunlight glanced shyly through the fluttering leaves, weaving with their delicate shadows a rare tracery on the grass.  The pattern was so intricate and yet so suggestive, they were sure that some strange legend was written there in mysterious characters,—­something holding a fateful reason for their ride together in the green woods.  But just as they had almost deciphered the secret, the broidered shadow disappeared under a bush, leaving them in new perplexity.  They looked for the story in the windings of the checkerberry-vine and blue-eyed periwinkle, on the lichens curiously growing on the boles of aged trees; but for all these they had no dictionary.  So they strayed on and on, in the endless mazes of the forest, till they became entirely separated from their companions, and lost all clue for recovering the path.

Anthrops looked in some perplexity at Haguna, to see if she were alarmed at this position of affairs.  He was rather surprised to find, that, far from being discouraged, she seemed highly to enjoy the dilemma.  She leaned forward a little on her horse, her one gloved hand, dropping the reins on his neck, nestled carelessly in his mane, while the forefinger of the other hand rested on her lip, with a comical expression of mock anxiety, as she looked inquiringly at Anthrops.

“I think,” finally exclaimed Anthrops, “that we had better push straight through the woods.  We cannot go far without discovering some road that will lead us back to the city.”

“Nobly resolved, courageous Sir!  But first tell me how we shall pass this first barrier that besets our onward march.”

And she pointed the end of the riding-whip that hung at her wrist to a mass of brambles which formed an impenetrable wall immediately in their path.  Anthrops rubbed his eyes, for he could scarce believe that this thicket had been there before; it seemed to have grown up suddenly while he turned his head.  He then tried to retrace his steps, but was thrown into fresh perplexity by discovering that the trees seemed to have closed in around them, so that he could find no opening for a horse.

“It seems evident to me,” said Haguna, “that we must dismount, and find our way on foot.  If now we could have deciphered the hieroglyphs of the shadows, we might have avoided this misfortune.”

As cool water upon the brow of a fevered man, fell the clear tones of her voice upon Anthrops, bewildered and confused by the sudden enchantment.  She, indeed, called it a misfortune, but so cheerily and gayly that her voice belied the term; and Anthrops insensibly plucked up heart, and shook off somewhat of that paralyzing astonishment.