THE TEMPTATION THE ANACONDA.
In the meantime Fernand Wagner was
engaged in the attempt to cross the chain of mountains
which intersected the island whereon the shipwreck
had thrown him. He had clambered over rugged rocks
and leapt across many yawning chasms in that region
of desolation, a region which formed so
remarkable a contrast with the delicious scenery which
he had left behind him. And now he reached the
base of a conical hill, the summit of which seemed
to have been split into two parts: and the sinuous
tracks of the lava-streams, now cold, and hard, and
black, adown its sides, convinced him that this was
the volcano, from whose rent crater had poured the
bituminous fluid so fatal to the vegetation of that
region.
Following a circuitous and naturally
formed pathway round the base, he reached the opposite
side; and now from a height of three hundred feet
above the level of the sea, his eyes commanded a view
of a scene as fair as that behind the range of mountains.
He was now for the first time convinced of what he
had all along suspected namely, that it
was indeed an island on which the storm had cast him.
But though from the eminence where he stood his view
embraced the immense range of the ocean, no speck
in the horizon no sail upon the bosom of
the expanse imparted hope to his soul.
Hunger now oppressed him; for he had
eaten nothing since the noon of the preceding day,
when he had plucked a few fruits in the groves on the
other side of the island. He accordingly commenced
a descent toward the new region which lay stretched
before him, fair as even fairer than the
one which had first greeted his eyes.
But he had not proceeded many yards
amidst the defiles of the rugged rocks which nature
had piled around the base of the volcano, when he
found his way suddenly barred by a vast chasm, on the
verge of which the winding path stopped.
The abyss was far too wide to be crossed
save by the wing of the bird: and in its unfathomable
depths boiled and roared a torrent, the din of whose
eddies was deafening to the ear.
Wagner retraced his way to the very
base of the volcano, and entered another defile:
but this also terminated on the edge of the same precipice.
Again and again did he essay the various
windings of that scene of rock and crag: but
with no better success than at first; and after passing
a considerable time in these fruitless attempts to
find a means of descent into the plains below, he
began to fear that he should be compelled to retrace
his way into the region of verdure which he had quitted
the day before, and which lay behind the range of
mountains. But the thought of the hideous snake
which he had seen in the tree caused a cold shudder
to pass over him then, in the next moment,
he remembered that if the region on one side of the
mountain were invested with reptiles of that terrible
species, it was not probable that the forests which
he beheld as it were at his feet, were free from the
same source of apprehension. Still he had hoped
to find human companionship on this side of the mountains
which he had so far succeeded in reaching the
companionship of the man who had cast away the doublet,
and of the woman whom he had seen in the mirage.
And was it not strange that he had
not as yet overtaken, or at least obtained a trace
of, the man who thus occupied a portion of his thoughts?
If that man were still amongst the mountains, they
would probably meet; if he had succeeded in descending
into the plains below, the same pathway that conducted
him thither would also be open to Wagner. Animated
with these reflections, and in spite of the hunger
which now sorely oppressed him, Wagner prosecuted with
fresh courage his search for a means of descent into
the lovely regions that lay stretched before him,
when he was suddenly startled by the sound of a human
voice near him.
“My son, what dost thou amidst
this scene of desolation?” were the words which,
uttered in a mild benignant tone, met his ears.
He turned and beheld an old man of
venerable appearance, and whose beard, white as snow,
stretched down to the rude leathern belt which confined
the palmer’s gown that he wore.
“Holy anchorite!” exclaimed
Wagner “for such must I deem thee
to be, the sound of thy voice is most welcome
in this solitude, amidst the mazes of which I vainly
seek to find an avenue of egress.”
“Thus it is oft with the troubles
and perplexities of the world, my son,” answered
the hermit, “that world which I have quitted
forever.”
“And dost thou dwell in this
desolate region?” asked Fernand.
“My cave is hard by,”
returned the old man. “For forty years have
I lived in the heart of these mountains, descending
only into the plains at long intervals, to gather
the fruits that constitute my food: and
then,” he added, in a tone which, despite the
sanctity of his appearance, struck cold and ominous
to the very heart of Wagner, “and
then, too, at the risk of becoming the prey of the
terrible anaconda!”
“Thou sayest, holy hermit,”
exclaimed Fernand, endeavoring to conquer a feeling
of unaccountable aversion which he had suddenly entertained
toward the old man, “thou sayest that thy cave
is hard by. In the name of mercy! I beseech
thee to spare me a few fruits, and a cup of water,
for I am sinking with fatigue, hunger, and thirst.”
“Follow me, young man,”
said the hermit; and he led the way to a cave opening
from a narrow fissure in the rock.
The anchorite’s abode was, as
Wagner had expected to find it, rude and cheerless.
A quantity of dry leaves were heaped in one corner evidently
forming the old man’s couch; and in several small
hollows made in the walls of rock, were heaps of fruit fresh
and inviting, as if they had only just been gathered.
On the ground stood a large earthen pitcher of water.
Upon this last object did the thirsty Wagner lay his
left hand; but ere he raised it, he glanced hastily
round the cave in search of a crucifix, in the presence
of which he might sign the form of the cross with
his right hand. But to his astonishment the emblem
of Christianity was not there; and it now struck him
for the first time that the anchorite wore no beads
around his waist.
“Young man, I can divine your
thoughts,” said the hermit, hastily; “but
drink, eat, and ask a blessing presently. Thou
art famished, pause not to question my motives.
I will explain them fully to thee when thy body is
refreshed with that pure water and those delicious
fruits.”
“Water shall not pass my lips,
nor fruits assuage the cravings of hunger, until I
know more of thee, old man!” exclaimed Wagner,
a terrible suspicion flashing to his mind; and without
another instant’s hesitation or delay, he made
the sign of the cross.
A yell of rage and fury burst from
the lips of the false anchorite, while his countenance
became fearfully distorted his eyes glared
fiercely his whole aspect changed and
in a few moments he stood confessed in shape, attire
and features, the demon who had appeared to Fernand
in the prison of Florence!
“Fiend! what wouldst thou with
me?” exclaimed Wagner, startled and yet unsubdued
by this appearance of the evil spirit amidst that region
of desolation.
“Mortal,” said the demon,
in his deepest and most serious tones, “I am
here to place happiness happiness ineffable within
thy reach. Nay, be not impatient: but listen
to me for a few moments. ’Twas my power
that conducted thy ship, amidst the fury of the storm
which He whose name I dare not mention raised,
to the shores of this island. ’Twas my
influence which yesterday, as thou wast seated on the
sunny banks, filled thine imagination with those delicious
thoughts of Nisida. And it was I also who, by
the wonders of the mirage, showed thee the form of
the only female inhabitant of this isle. And that
one female, Wagner that woman who is now
as it were within thy reach that lovely
being whose presence on this island would teach thee
to have no regret for the world from which you are
separated, and whose eyes would cast forth rays of
joy and gladness upon everything around that
charming lady, who has already decked herself with
those flowers which her fair hands have woven into
wildly fantastic arabesques, that being is thy
Nisida, the Island Queen.”
“Fiend! you mock you
deceive me,” cried Fernand, wildly hovering
between joyous hope and acute fear.
“Did I deceive thee, Wagner,
when I showed thee thy Nisida in the power of the
corsairs?” said the demon, with a smile of bitter,
sardonic triumph. “I tell thee, then, that
Nisida is on this island there, in the
very region into which thou wouldst descend, but to
which thou wilt find no avenue save by my aid.”
“Nisida is here on
this island,” exclaimed Fernand in an ecstasy
of joy.
“Yes and Stephano,
the bandit, likewise,” added the demon.
“It was his doublet which you found it
was he who slaked his thirst with the juice of the
fruits which I, then invisible, beheld thee contemplate
with attention.”
“Stephano here also!”
cried Wagner. “Oh! Nisida to
thy rescue!”
And he bounded forth from the cave,
and was rushing madly down one of the tortuous defiles
leading toward the chasm, when the voice of the demon
suddenly caused him to stop short.
“Fool! insensate
mortal!” said the fiend, with a derisive laugh.
“How canst thou escape from these mountains?
But tarry a moment and behold thy Nisida behold
also her persecutor, who lusts after her.”
Thus speaking; he handed Wagner a
magic telescope, which immediately brought the most
remote objects to a distance of only a few yards.
Then what a delicious scene met Fernand’s
eyes! He beheld Nisida bathing in the sea sporting
like a mermaid with the wavelets plunging
into the refreshing depths then wringing
out the water from her long raven hair, now swimming
and diving, then wading on her feet, unconscious
that a human eye beheld her.
At length she came forth from the
sea, beauteous as a Venus rising from the ocean; and
her toilet commenced upon the sand. But scarcely
had she decked herself with the flowers which she
had gathered early in the morning for the purpose,
when she started and rose up; and then Wagner beheld
a man approaching her from the nearest grove.
“That is Stephano Verrina!”
murmured the demon in his ears.
Fernand uttered a cry of dismay, and
threw down the telescope.
“You may save her save
her yet,” said the demon, speaking in a tone
of unusual haste. “In a few minutes she
will be in his power he is strong and desperate;
be mine, and consent to serve me and in
a moment Nisida shall be clasped in thy arms the
arms of thee, her deliverer.”
“No no! I will
save her without thine aid, dread fiend!” exclaimed
Wagner, a prey to the most terrible excitement.
Then making the sign of the cross,
he rushed forward to leap the yawning chasm; his feet
touched the opposite side, but he lost his balance,
reeled, and fell back into the tremendous abyss, while
the demon, again baffled, and shrinking in horror
from the emblem of Christianity, disappeared with
cries of rage and vexation.
Down down fell Wagner, turning
over and over in the hideous vacancy, and clutching
vainly at the stunted shrubs and dead roots which
projected from the rugged sides of the chasm.
In another moment he was swallowed
up by the boiling torrent; but his senses did not
leave him, and he felt himself hurried along with the
furious speed of the mad waters. Thus nearly a
minute passed; and then his headlong course was suddenly
arrested by the boughs of a tree, which, having given
way at the root, bent over into the torrent. He
clung to the boughs as if they were arms stretched
out to rescue him; he raised himself from amidst the
turbid waters and in a few moments reached
a bank which shelved upward to the edge of a dense
forest.
Precisely on the opposite or inner
side there was an opening in the rocks, and Wagner’s
eye could trace upward a steep but still practicable
path, doubtless formed by some torrent of the spring,
which was now dried up amidst the mountains above, that
path reaching to the very basis of the volcano.
Thus, had circumstances permitted
him to exercise his patience and institute a longer
search among the defiles formed by the crags and rocks
around the conical volcano, he would have discovered
a means of safe egress from that region without daring
the desperate leap of the chasm, desperate even for
him, although he bore a charmed life, because his
limbs might have been broken against the rugged sides
of the precipice.
Between the opening to the steep path
just spoken of, and the shelving bank on which Wagner
now stood, there was so narrow a space, that the bent
tree stretched completely across the torrent; thus
any one, descending from the mountains by the natural
pathway, might cross by means of the tree to the side
which Fernand had gained.
“This, then, must have been
the route by which the villain Stephano emerged from
the mountains,” he said to himself, “and
the fiend deceived me when he declared that I could
not reach the plains below without his aid.”
Such were his reflections as he hurried
up the shelving bank: and when he reached the
summit his glance embraced a scene already described
to the reader.
For, flying wildly on toward the forest,
was his beauteous Nisida, scattering flowers in her
whirlwind progress, those flowers that had ere now
decked her hair, her neck and her waist.
At some distance behind her was the
bandit Stephano; with sword in hand he still maintained
the chase, though breathless and ready to sink from
exhaustion. Not an instant did Wagner tarry upon
the top of the bank which he had reached; but darting
toward Nisida, who was now scarce fifty yards from
him, he gave vent to an ejaculation of joy.
She saw him she beheld
him: and her speed was checked in an instant
with the overpowering emotion of wonder and delight.
Then, as he hurried along the verge
of the forest to encounter her to fold
her in his fond embrace to protect her, she
once more sprung forward, with outstretched arms,
to fly into his arms, which were open to receive her.
But at that instant there was a horrible rustling amidst
the foliage of the huge tree beneath which she was
hastening on; a monstrous snake darted
down with a gushing sound, and in another moment the
beauteous form of Nisida was encircled by its hideous
coils.
Then fled that wondrous self-command
which for long years she had exercised with such amazing
success: then vanished from her mind all
the strong motives which had induced her to undertake
so terrible a martyrdom as that of simulating the
loss of two faculties most dear and most valuable
to all human beings; and with a cry of ineffable
anguish, she exclaimed, “Fernand, save me!
save me!”