[figure description] Page 358.[end figure description]

As the canoes now glided across the lagoon, I gave myself
up to reverie; and revolving over all that the men of
Amma had rehearsed of the history of Yillah, I one by one
unriddled the mysteries, before so baffling. Now, all was
made plain: no secret remaining, but the subsequent event
of her disappearance. Yes, Hautia! enlightened I had
been—but where was Yillah?

Then I recalled that last interview with Hautia's messengers,
so full of enigmas; and wondered, whether Yoomy
had interpreted aright. Unseen, and unsolicited; still pursuing
me with omens, with taunts, and with wooings, mysterious
Hautia appalled me. Vaguely I began to fear her.
And the thought, that perhaps again and again, her heralds
would haunt me, filled me with a nameless dread, which I
almost shrank from acknowledging. Inwardly I prayed,
that never more they might appear.

While full of these thoughts, Media interrupted them by
saying, that the minstrel was about to begin one of his
chants, a thing of his own composing; and therefore, as he
himself said, all critics must be lenient; for Yoomy, at
times, not always, was a timid youth, distrustful of his own
sweet genius for poesy.

The words were about a curious hereafter, believed in by
some people in Mardi: a sort of nocturnal Paradise, where
the sun and its heat are excluded: one long, lunar day,
with twinkling stars to keep company.

[figure description] Page 359.[end figure description]

“Yoomy,” said old Mohi with a yawn, “you composed
that song, then, did you?”

“I did,” said Yoomy, placing his turban a little to one
side.

“Then, minstrel, you shall sing me to sleep every night,
especially with that song of Marlena; it is soporific as the
airs of Nora-Bamma.”

“Mean you, old man, that my lines, setting forth the
luxurious repose to be enjoyed hereafter, are composed with
such skill, that the description begets the reality; or would
you ironically suggest, that the song is a sleepy thing itself?”

“An important discrimination,” said Media; “which
mean you, Mohi?”

“Now, are you not a silly boy,” said Babbalanja, “when
from the ambiguity of his speech, you could so easily have

[figure description] Page 360.[end figure description]

derived something flattering, thus to seek to extract unpleasantness
from it? Be wise, Yoomy; and hereafter, whenever
a remark like that seems equivocal, be sure to wrest
commendation from it, though you torture it to the quick.”

“And most sure am I, that I would ever do so; but
often I so incline to a distrust of my powers, that I am far
more keenly alive to censure, than to praise; and always
deem it the more sincere of the two; and no praise so much
elates me, as censure depresses.”