The heat, I thought, would soon drive it from the spot; and, rising, I opened the door, so that it might find its way out again into its own cool, dark, flowery world.

And standing by the open door I turned and addressed it: "O night-wanderer of the pale, beautiful wings, go forth, and should you by chance meet her somewhere in the shadowy depths, revisiting her old haunts, be my messenger--" Thus much had I spoken when the frail thing loosened its hold to fall without a flutter, straight and swift, into the white blaze beneath.

I sprang forward with a shriek and stood staring into the fire, my whole frame trembling with a sudden terrible emotion.

Even thus had Rima fallen--fallen from the great height--into the flames that instantly consumed her beautiful flesh and bright spirit! O cruel Nature! A moth that perished in the flame; an indistinct faint sound; a dream in the night; the semblance of a shadowy form moving mist-like in the twilight gloom of the forest, would suddenly bring back a vivid memory, the old anguish, to break for a while the calm of that period.

It was calm then after the storm.