The water looked deliciously cool.  An audacious thought struck him.  He was alone, and the place was a secluded one.  He knew there were no other visitors; the marble basin was quite hidden from the rest of the garden, and approached only from the path by which he had come, and whose entire view he commanded.  He quietly and deliberately undressed himself under the willows, and unhesitatingly plunged into the basin.  The water was four or five feet deep, and its extreme length afforded an excellent swimming bath, despite the water-lilies and a few aquatic plants that mottled its clear surface, or the sedge that clung to the bases of the statues.  He disported for some moments in the delicious element, and then seated himself upon one of the half-submerged plinths, almost hidden by reeds, that had once upheld a river god.  Here, lazily resting himself upon his elbow, half his body still below the water, his quick ear was suddenly startled by a rustling noise and the sound of footsteps.  For a moment he was inclined to doubt his senses; he could see only the empty path before him and the deserted terrace.  But the sound became more distinct, and to his great uneasiness appeared to come from the other side of the fringe of willows, where there was undoubtedly a path to the fountain which he had overlooked.  His clothes were under those willows, but he was at least twenty yards from the bank and an equal distance from the terrace.  He was about to slip beneath the water when, to his crowning horror, before he could do so, a young girl slowly appeared from the hidden willow path full upon the terrace.  She was walking leisurely with a parasol over her head and a book in her hand.  Even in his intense consternation her whole figure—­a charming one in its white dress, sailor hat, and tan shoes—­was imprinted on his memory as she instinctively halted to look upon the fountain, evidently an unexpected surprise to her.

A sudden idea flashed upon him.  She was at least sixty yards away; he was half hidden in the reeds and well in the long shadows of the willows.  If he remained perfectly motionless she might overlook him at that distance, or take him for one of the statues.  He remembered also that as he was resting on his elbow, his half-submerged body lying on the plinth below water, he was somewhat in the attitude of one of the river gods.  And there was no other escape.  If he dived he might not be able to keep under water as long as she remained, and any movement he knew would betray him.  He stiffened himself and scarcely breathed.  Luckily for him his attitude had been a natural one and easy to keep.  It was well, too, for she was evidently in no hurry and walked slowly, stopping from time to time to admire the basin and its figures.  Suddenly he was instinctively aware that she was looking towards him and even changing her position, moving her pretty head and shading her eyes with her hand as if for a better view.  He remained motionless, scarcely daring to breathe.