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. Behind
them, the trees were cast in shadow. And farther from the
path still, the trees were in total blackness.
The croaking of frogs grew louder, and soon he came to
a small glade, in the middle of which was a pond. Petal was
standing on its bank near an old beaver dam, her long white
gown bathed in the sky's ghostly light. For several moments
she did nothing but gaze at the black water, upon whose
surface floated many lily pads, their white blossoms open to
the moonshine.
Then she softly called, "My love, my love, take me to
your home."
At that, some of the lily pads were jostled from beneath.
Petal then slipped off her gown and stepped into the water.
She waded toward the center of the pond, pressing past
some lily pads. The water rose steadily up her slender legs,
reaching her narrow waist, and continued to rise as she went
forward.
Aron was confused as to what was happening. But
when he saw his daughter in the pond up to her delicate
neck, her fair hair floating behind her, he burst from his
hiding place.
It was too late. Petal's head dipped below the surface,
her hair floating momentarily, then it, too, vanished below.
"Petal! What are you doing?" cried Aron
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