THE SULTANA VALIDA THE THREE BLACK
SLAVES.
In the meantime the Princess Aischa,
the now neglected wife of the grand vizier, had repaired
to the imperial seraglio to obtain an interview with
her brother, Solyman the Magnificent. The sultan,
as the reader has already learnt, was deeply attached
to Aischa. Their mother, the sultana, or empress
mother, who was still alive, occupied apartments in
the seraglio. Her children entertained the greatest
respect for her: and her influence over the sultan,
who possessed an excellent heart, though his sway
was not altogether unstained by cruelties, was known
to be great.
It was therefore to her mother and
her brother that the beautiful Aischa proceeded; and
when she was alone with them in the Valida’s
apartment, and removed her veil, they immediately
noticed that she had been weeping. Upon being
questioned relative to the cause of her sorrow, she
burst into an agony of tears, and was for some time
unable to reply. At length, half regretting that
she had taken the present step, Aischa slowly revealed
her various causes of complaint against the grand
vizier.
“By Allah!” exclaimed
the sultan, “the ungrateful Ibrahim shall not
thus spurn and neglect the costly gift which I, his
master, condescended to bestow upon him! What!
when the Shah of Persia, the Khan of the Tartars,
and the Prince of Karamania all sought thine hand,
and dispatched embassadors laden with rich gifts to
our court to demand thee in marriage, did I not send
them back with cold words of denial to their sovereigns?
And was it to bestow thee, my sister, on this ungrateful
boy, who was so late naught save a dog of a Christian,
ready to eat the dirt under our imperial feet, was
it to bestow thee on such an one as he, that I refused
the offers of the Persian Shah! By the tomb of
the prophet! this indignity shall cease!”
“Restrain your wrath, my son,”
said the Sultana Valida. “Ibrahim must
not be openly disgraced: the effects of his punishment
would redound on our beloved Aischa. No rather
intrust this affair to me; and fear not that I shall
fail in compelling this haughty pasha to return to
the arms of his wife ay, and implore her
pardon for his late neglect.”
“Oh! dearest mother, if thou
canst accomplish this,” exclaimed Aischa, her
countenance becoming animated with joy and her heart
palpitating with hope, “thou wouldst render
me happy indeed.”
“Trust to me, daughter,”
replied the Sultana Valida. “In the meantime
seek not to learn my intentions; but, on thy return
home, send me by some trusty slave thy pass-key to
the harem. And thou, my son, wilt lend me thine
imperial signet-ring for twelve hours!”
“Remember,” said the sultan,
as he drew the jewel from his finger, “that
he who wears that ring possesses a talisman of immense
power a sign which none to whom it is shown
dares disobey; remember this, my mother, and use it
with caution.”
“Fear not, my dearly beloved
son,” answered the Sultana Valida, concealing
the ring in her bosom. “And now, Aischa,
do you return to the palace of your haughty husband,
who ere twelve hours be passed, shall sue for pardon
at thy feet.”
The sultan and Aischa both knew that
their mother was a woman of powerful intellect and
determined character; and they sought not to penetrate
into the secret of her intentions.
Solyman withdrew to preside at a meeting
of the divan; and Aischa returned to the palace of
the grand vizier, attended by the slaves who had waited
for her in an anteroom leading to her mother’s
apartments.
It was now late in the afternoon,
and the time for evening prayer had arrived ere the
Sultana Valida received the pass-key to Ibrahim Pasha’s
harem. But the moment it was conveyed to her,
she summoned to her presence three black slaves, belonging
to the corps of the bostanjis, or gardeners, who also
served as executioners, when a person of rank was to
be subjected to the process of bowstring, or when any
dark deed was to be accomplished in silence and with
caution. Terrible appendages to the household
of Ottoman sultans were the black slaves belonging
to that corps like snakes, they insinuated
themselves, noiselessly and ominously into the presence
of their victims, and it were as vain to preach peace
to the warring elements which God alone can control,
as to implore mercy at the hands of those remorseless
Ethiopians!
To the three black slaves did the
Sultana Valida issue her commands; and to the eldest
she intrusted Solyman’s signet-ring and the pass-key
which Aischa had sent her. The slaves bowed three
times to the empress mother laid their
hands on their heads to imply that they would deserve
decapitation if they neglected the orders they had
received and then withdrew. There
was something terribly sinister in their appearance,
as they retired noiselessly but rapidly through the
long, silent and darkened corridors of the imperial
harem.
It was night and the moon
shone softly and sweetly upon the mighty city of Constantinople,
tipping each of its thousand spires and pinnacles as
with a star.
Ibrahim Pasha, having disposed of
the business of the day, and now with his imagination
full of the beautiful Calanthe, hastened to the anteroom,
or principal apartment of the harem.
The harem, occupying one complete
wing of the vizier’s palace, consisted of three
stories. On the ground floor were the apartments
of the Princess Aischa and her numerous female dependents.
These opened from a spacious marble hall; and at the
folding-doors leading into them, were stationed two
black dwarfs, who were deaf and dumb. Their presence
was not in any way derogatory to the character of
Aischa, but actually denoted the superior rank of
the lady who occupied those apartments in respect
to the numerous females who tenanted the rooms above.
As she was the sister of the sultan, Ibrahim dared
not appear in her presence without obtaining her previous
assent through the medium of one of the mutes, who
were remarkably keen in understanding and conveying
intelligence by means of signs. A grand marble
staircase led from the hall to the two floors containing
the apartments of the ladies of the harem; and thus,
though Aischa dwelt in the same wing as those females,
her own abode was as distinct from theirs as if she
were the tenant of a separate house altogether.
On the first floor there was a large
and magnificently furnished room in which the ladies
of the harem were accustomed to assemble when they
chose to quit the solitude of their own chambers for
the enjoyment of each other’s society.
The ceiling of the anteroom; as this immense apartment
was called, was gilt entirely over; it was supported
by twenty slender columns of crystal; and the splendid
chandeliers which were suspended to it, diffused a
soft and mellow light, producing the most striking
effects on that mass of gilding, those reflecting columns,
and the wainscoted walls inlaid with mother-of-pearl,
and with ivory of different colors. A Persian
carpet three inches thick was spread upon the floor.
Along two opposite sides ran continuous sofas, supported
by low, white marble pillars, and covered with purple
figured velvet fringed with gold. In the middle
of this gorgeous apartment was a large table, shaped
like a crescent, and spread with all kinds of preserved
fruits, confectionery, cakes, and delicious beverages
of a non-alcoholic nature.
The room was crowded with beauteous
women when the presence of Ibrahim was announced by
a slave. There were the fair-complexioned daughters
of Georgia the cold, reserved, but lovely
Circassians the warm and impassioned Persians the
voluptuous Wallachians the timid Tartars the
dusky Indians the talkative Turkish ladies beauties,
too, of Italy, Spain, and Portugal indeed,
specimens of female perfection from many, many nations.
Their various styles of beauty, and their characteristic
national dresses, formed a scene truly delightful to
gaze upon: but the grand vizier noticed none
of the countenances so anxiously turned toward him
to mark on which his eyes would settle in preference;
and the ladies noiselessly withdrew, leaving their
master alone with the slave in the anteroom.
Ibrahim threw himself on a sofa, and
gave some hasty instructions to the slave, who immediately
retired. In about a quarter of an hour he came
back, conducting into the anteroom a lady veiled from
head to foot. The slave then withdrew altogether;
and Ibrahim approached the lady, saying, “Calanthe beauteous
Calanthe! welcome to my palace.”
She removed her veil; and Ibrahim
fixed his eager eyes upon the countenance thus disclosed
to him; but he was immediately struck by the marvelous
resemblance existing between his page Constantine,
and the charming Calanthe. It will be remembered
that when he called, in a mean disguise, at the abode
of Demetrius, he saw Calanthe for the first time,
and only for a short period; and though he was even
then struck by her beauty, yet the impression it made
was but momentary: and he had so far forgotten
Calanthe as never to behold in Constantine the least
resemblance to any one whom he had seen before.
But now that Calanthe’s countenance
burst upon him in all the glory of its superb Greek
beauty, that resemblance struck him with all the force
of a new idea; and he was about to express his astonishment
that so wondrous a likeness should subsist between
brother and sister, when the maiden sunk at his feet,
exclaiming, “Pardon me, great vizier; but Constantine
and Calanthe are one and the same thing.”
“Methought the brother pleaded
with marvelous eloquence on behalf of his sister,”
said Ibrahim, with a smile; and raising Calanthe from
her suppliant posture, he led her to a seat, gazing
on her the while with eyes expressive of intense passion.
“Your highness,” observed
the maiden, after a short pause, “has heard
from my own lips how profound is the attachment which
I have dared to conceive for you how great
is the admiration which I entertain for the brilliant
powers of your intellect. To be with thee, great
Ibrahim, will I abandon my country, friends ay,
and even creed, shouldst thou demand that concession;
for in thee and in thee only are
all my hopes of happiness now centered!”
“And those hopes shall not be
disappointed, dearest Calanthe!” exclaimed Ibrahim,
clasping her in his arms. “But a few minutes
before you entered this room a hundred women the
choicest flowers of all climes were gathered
here; and yet I value one smile on thy lips more than
all the tender endearments that those purchased houris
could bestow. For thy love was unbought it
was a love that prompted thee to attach thyself to
me in a menial capacity ”
The impassioned language of the grand
vizier was suddenly interrupted by the opening of
the door, and three black slaves glided into the anteroom half
crouching as they stole along and fixing
on the beauteous Calanthe eyes, the dark pupils of
which seemed to glare horribly from the whites in
which they were set.
“Dogs! what signifies this intrusion?”
exclaimed Ibrahim Pasha, starting from the sofa, and
grasping the handle of his scimiter.
The chief the three slaves uttered
not a word of reply, but exhibited the imperial signet,
and at the same time unrolled from the coil which
he had hitherto held in his hand a long green silken
bowstring. At that ominous spectacle Ibrahim
fell back, his countenance becoming ashy pale, and
his frame trembling with an icy shudder from head to
foot.
“Choose between this and her,”
whispered the slave, in a deep tone, as he first glanced
at the bowstring and then looked toward Calanthe, who
knew that some terrible danger was impending, but was
unable to divine where or when it was to fall.
“Merciful Allah!” exclaimed
the grand vizier; and throwing himself upon the floor,
he buried his face in his hands.
In another moment Calanthe was seized
and gagged, before even a word or a scream could escape
her lips; but Ibrahim heard the rustling of her dress
as she unavailingly struggled with the monsters in
whose power she was. The selfish ingrate! he
drew not his scimiter to defend her he no
longer remembered all the tender love she bore him but,
appalled by the menace of the bowstring, backed by
the warrant of the sultan’s signet ring, he
lay groveling on the rich Persian carpet, giving vent
to his alarms by low and piteous groans.
Then he heard the door once more close
as softly as possible: he looked up glared
with wild anxiety around and breathed more
freely on finding himself alone! For the Ethiopians
had departed with their victim! Slowly rising
from his supine posture, Ibrahim approached the table,
filled a crystal cup with sherbet to the brim, and
drank the cooling beverage, which seemed to go hissing
down his parched throat so dreadful was
the thirst which the horror of the scene just enacted
had produced.
Then the sickening as well as maddening
conviction struck to his very soul, that though the
envied and almost worshiped vizier of a mighty empire having
authority of life and death over millions of human
beings, and able to dispose of the governments and
patronage of huge provinces and mighty cities he
was but a miserable, helpless slave in the eyes of
another greater still an ephemeron whom
the breath of Solyman the Magnificent could destroy!
And overcome by this conviction, he threw himself
on the sofa, bursting into an agony of tears tears
of mingled rage and woe. Yes; the proud, the
selfish, the haughty renegade wept as bitterly as
ever even a poor, weak woman was known to weep!
How calm and beautiful lay the waters
of the Golden Horn beneath the light of that lovely
moon which shone so chastely and so serenely above,
as if pouring its argent luster upon a world where
no evil passions were known no hearts were
stained with crime no iniquity of human
imagining was in the course of perpetration.
But, ah! what sound is that which breaks on the silence
of the night! Is it the splash of oars? No for
the two black slaves who guide yon boat which has shot
out from the shore into the center of the gulf, are
resting on the slight sculls the boat itself,
too, is now stationary and not a ripple
is stirred up by its grotesquely-shaped prow.
What, then, was that sound?
’Twas the voice of agony bursting
from woman’s throat; and the boat is about to
become the scene of a deed of horror, though one of
frequent alas! too frequent occurrence
in that clime, and especially on that gulf.
The gag has slipped from Calanthe’s
mouth; and a long loud scream of agonizing despair
sweeps over the surface of the water rending
the calm and moonlit air but dying away
ere it can raise an echo on either shore. Strong
are the arms and relentless is the black monster who
has now seized the unhappy Greek maiden in his ferocious
grasp while the luster of the pale orb
of night streams on that countenance lately radiant
with impassioned hope, but now convulsed with indescribable
horror.
Again the scream bursts from the victim’s
lips; but its thrilling, cutting agony is interrupted
by a sudden plunge a splash a
gurgling and a rippling of the waters and
the corpse of the murdered Calanthe is borne toward
the deeper and darker bosom of the Bosporus.
The sun was already dispersing the
orient mists, when the chief of the three black slaves
once more stood in the presence of the grand vizier,
who had passed the night in the anteroom, alone, and
a prey to the most lively mental tortures. So
noiselessly and reptile-like did the hideous Ethiopian
steal into the apartment, that he was within a yard
of the grand vizier ere the latter was aware that
the door had even opened. Ibrahim started as
if from a snake about to spring upon him for
the ominous bowstring swung negligently from the slave’s
hand, and the imperial signet still glistened on his
finger.
“Mighty pasha!” spoke
the Ethiopian in a low and cold tone; “thus saith
the Sultana Valida: ’Cease to treat thy
wife with neglect. Hasten to her throw
thyself at her feet implore her pardon for
the past and give her hope of affection
for the future. Shouldst thou neglect this warning,
then every night will the rival whom thou preferrest
to her be torn from thine arms, and be devoted as
food for the fishes. She whom thou didst so prefer
this night that is passed sleeps in the dark green
bed of the Bosporus. Take warning, pasha; for
the bowstring may be used at last. Moreover,
see that thou revealest not to the Princess Aischa
the incident of the night, nor the nature of the threats
which send thee back repentant to her arms.’”
And, with these words, the slave glided
hastily from the room, leaving the grand vizier a
prey to feelings of ineffable horror. His punishment
on earth had begun and he knew it.
What had his ambition gained? Though rich, invested
with high rank, and surrounded by every luxury, he
was more wretched than the meanest slave who was accustomed
to kiss the dust at his feet.
But, subduing the fearful agitation
which oppressed him composing his feelings
and his countenance as well as he was able, the proud
and haughty Ibrahim hastened to implore admittance
to his wife’s chamber, and when the boon was
accorded, and he found himself in her presence, he
besought her pardon in a voice and with a manner expressive
of the most humiliating penitence. Thus, at the
moment when thousands perhaps millions,
were envying the bright fortunes and glorious destiny
of Ibrahim the Happy, as he was denominated the
dark and terrible despotism of the Sultana Valida
made him tremble for his life, and compelled him to
sue at Aischa’s feet for pardon. And if,
at the same instant of his crushed spirit and wounded
pride, there were a balm found to soothe the racking
fibers of his heart, the anodyne consisted in the
tender love which Aischa manifested toward him, and
the touching sincerity with which she assured him
of her complete forgiveness.
Return we again to that Mediterranean
island on which Fernand Wagner and the beauteous Nisida
espoused each other by solemn vows plighted in the
face of Heaven, and where they have now resided for
six long months. At first how happy how
supremely happy was Nisida, having tutored herself
so far to forget the jarring interests of that world
which lay beyond the sea, as to abandon her soul without
reservation to the delights of the new existence on
which she had entered. Enabled once more to use
that charming voice which God had given her, but which
had remained hushed for so many years, able
also to listen to the words that fell from the lips
of her lover, without being forced to subdue and crush
the emotions which they excited, and secure
in the possession of him to whom she was so madly
devoted, and who manifested such endearing tenderness
toward herself, Nisida indeed felt as if she were another
being, or endowed with the lease of a new life.
At first, too, how much had Wagner
and Nisida to say to each other, how many
fond assurances to give how many protestations
of unalterable affection to make! For hours would
they sit together upon the seashore, or on the bank
of the limpid stream in the valley, and converse almost
unceasingly, wearying not of each other’s discourse,
and sustaining the interests and the enjoyment of
that interchange of thoughts by flying from topic
to topic just as their unshackled imagination suggested.
But Fernand never questioned Nisida concerning the
motive which had induced her to feign dumbness and
deafness for so many years; she had given him to understand
that family reasons of the deepest importance, and
involving dreadful mysteries from the contemplation
of which she recoiled with horror, had prompted so
tremendous a self-martyrdom: and he loved
her too well to outrage her feelings by urging her
to touch more than she might choose on that topic.
Careful not to approach the vicinity
of large trees, for fear of these dreadful tenants
of the isle who might be said to divide its sovereignty
with them, the lovers may we not venture
to call them husband and wife? would ramble
hand-in-hand, along the stream’s enchanting banks,
in the calm hours of moonlight, which lent softer charms
to the scene than when the gorgeous sun was bathed
all in gold. Or else they would wander on the
sands to the musical murmur of the rippling sea, their
arms clasping each other’s neck their
eyes exchanging glances of fondness hers
of ardent passion, his of more melting tenderness.
But there was too much sensuality in the disposition
of Nisida to render her love for Wagner sufficient
and powerful enough to insure permanent contentment
with her present lot.
The first time that the fatal eve
drew near when he must exchange the shape of man for
that of a horrid wolf, he had said to her, “Beloved
Nisida, I remember that there are finer and different
fruits on the other side of the island, beyond the
range of mountains; and I should rejoice to obtain
for thee a variety. Console thyself for a few
hours during mine absence; and on my return we shall
experience renewed and increased happiness, as if
we were meeting again after a long separation.”
Vainly did Nisida assure him that she reckoned not
for a more extensive variety of fruits than those
which the nearest grove yielded, and that she would
rather have his society than all the luxuries which
his absence and return might bring; he overruled her
remonstrances and she at length permitted
him to depart. Then he crossed the mountains
by means of the path which he had described when he
escaped from the torrent at the point where the tree
stretched across the stream, as described in the preceding
chapter; and on the other side of the range of hills
he fulfilled the dreadful destiny of the Wehr-Wolf!
On his return to Nisida after an absence
of nearly twenty-four hours, for the time occupied
in crossing and recrossing the mountains was considerable he
found her gloomy and pensive. His long absence
had vexed her: she in the secrecy of her own heart
had felt a craving for a change of scene and
she naturally suspected that it was to gratify a similar
want that Fernand had undertaken the transmontane
journey. She received his fruits coldly; and it
was some time ere he could succeed in winning her
back to perfect good humor.
The next interval of a month glided
away, the little incident which had for a moment ruffled
the harmony of their lives was forgotten at
least by Nisida; and so devoted was Fernand
in his attention, so tenderly sincere in his attachment
toward her and so joyful, too, was she in
the possession of one whose masculine beauty was almost
superhumanly great, that those incipient cravings
for change of scene those nascent longings
for a return to the great and busy world, returned
but seldom and were even then easily subdued in her
breast.
When the second fatal date after their
union on the island approached, Wagner was compelled
to urge some new but necessarily trivial excuse for
again crossing the mountains; and Nisida’s remonstrances
were more authoritative and earnest than on the previous
occasion. Nevertheless he succeeded in obtaining
her consent: but during his absence of four or
five-and-twenty hours, the lady had ample leisure to
ponder on home the busy world across the
sea and her well-beloved brother Francisco.
Fernand when he came back, found her gloomy and reserved;
then, as he essayed to wean her from her dark thoughts,
she responded petulantly and even reproachingly.
The ensuing month glided away as happily
as the two former ones; and though Fernand’s
attentions and manifestations of fondness increased,
if possible, still Nisida would frequently sigh and
look wistfully at the sea as if she would have joyed
to behold a sail in the horizon. The third time
the fatal close of the month drew nigh, Wagner knew
not how to act; but some petulance on the part of
Nisida furnished him with an excuse which his generous
heart only had recourse to with the deepest, the keenest
anguish. Throwing back the harsh word at her whom
he loved so devotedly, he exclaimed, “Nisida,
I leave thee for a few hours until thy good humor
shall have returned;” and without waiting for
a reply he darted toward the mountains. For some
time the lady remained seated gloomily upon the sand;
but as hour after hour passed away, and the sun went
down, and the moon gathered power to light the enchanting
scene of landscape and of sea, she grew uneasy and
restless. Throughout that night she wandered
up and down on the sands, now weeping at the thought
that she herself had been unkind then angry
at the conviction that Fernand was treating her more
harshly than she deserved.
It was not till the sun was high in
the heavens that Wagner reappeared; and though Nisida
was in reality delighted to find all her wild alarms,
in which the monstrous snakes of the isle entered largely,
thus completely dissipated, yet she concealed the
joy which she experienced in beholding his safe return,
and received him with gloomy hauteur. Oh! how
her conduct went to Wagner’s heart! for
he knew that, so long as the direful necessity which
had compelled his absence remained unexplained, Nisida
was justified in attributing that absence to unkind
feelings and motives on his part. A thousand times
that day was he on the point of throwing himself at
her feet and revealing all the details of that frightful
destiny; but he dared not oh! no, he dared
not and a profound melancholy seized upon
his soul. Nisida now relented, chiefly because
she herself felt miserable by the contemplation of
his unhappiness; and harmony was restored between
them.
But during the fourth month of their
union, the lady began to speak more frequently and
frankly of the weariness and monotony of their present
existence; and when Fernand essayed to console her,
she responded by deep-drawn sighs. His love was
based on those enduring elements which would have
rendered him content to dwell forever with Nisida on
that island, which had no sameness for him so long
as she was there to be his companion; but her
love subsisted rather sensually than mentally; and
now that her fierce and long-pent up desires had experienced
gratification, she longed to return to the land of
her birth, to embrace her brother Francisco; yes,
even though she should be again compelled to simulate
the deaf and dumb. The close of the fourth month
was at hand, and Wagner was at a loss how to act.
New excuses for a fresh absence were impossible; and
it was with a heart full of anguish that he was compelled
to seize an opportunity in the afternoon of the last
day of the month, to steal away from Nisida and hasten
across the mountains. Oh! what would she think
of his absence now? an absence for which
he had not prepared her, and which was not on this
occasion justified by any petulance or willfulness
on her part? The idea was maddening, but there
was no alternative.
It was noon on the ensuing day when
Fernand Wagner, pale and care-worn, again sought that
spot on the strand where the rudely constructed cottage
stood; but Nisida was not within the hut. He roved
along the shore to a considerable distance, and still
beheld her not. Terrible alarms now oppressed
him. Could she have done some desperate deed to
rid herself of an existence whereof she was weary?
or had some fatal accident befallen her. From
the shore he hastened to the valley; and there, seated
by the side of the crystal stream, he beheld the object
of his search. He ran he flew toward
her; but she seemed not to observe him; and when he
caught a glimpse of her countenance, he shrank back
in dismay it was so pale, and yet so expressive
of deep, concentrated rage!
But we cannot linger on this portion
of our tale. Suffice it to say that Wagner exerted
all his eloquence, all his powers of persuasion to
induce Nisida to turn a kind glance upon him; and
it was only when, goaded to desperation by her stern
silence and her implacable mien, he exclaimed, “Since
I am no longer worthy of even a look or a syllable,
I will quit thee forever!” It was only when
these words conveyed to Nisida a frightful menace
of loneliness, that she relented and gradually suffered
herself to be appeased. But vainly did she question
him relative to the cause of his absence on this occasion;
he offered a variety of excuses, and she believed
none of them.
The month that followed was characterized
by many quarrels and disputes; for Nisida’s
soul acquired all the restlessness which had marked
it ere she was thrown on the island, but which solitude
at first and then the possession of Wagner, had for
a time so greatly subdued. Nevertheless, there
were still occasions when she would cling to Wagner
with all the confiding fondness of one who remembered
how he had saved her life from the hideous anaconda,
and who looked up to him as her only joy and solace
in that clime, the beauty of which became painful with
its monotony yes, she would cling to him
as they roved along the sands together she
would gaze up into his countenance, and as she read
assurances of the deepest affection in his fine dark
eyes, she would exclaim rapturously, “Oh! how
handsome how god-like art thou, my Fernand!
Pardon me pardon me, that I should ever
have nursed resentment against thee!”
It was when she was in such a mood
as this that he murmured in her ears, “Nisida
dearest, thou hast thy secret which I have never sought
to penetrate. I also have my secret, beloved
one, as I hinted to thee on that day which united
us in this island; and into that mystery of mine thou
mayest not look. But at certain intervals I must
absent myself from thee for a few hours, as I hitherto
have done; and on my return, O dearest Nisida! let
me not behold that glorious countenance of thine clouded
with anger and with gloom!”
Then ere she could utter a word of
reply, he sealed her lips with kisses he
pressed her fervently to his heart, and at that moment
she thought he seemed so divinely handsome, and she
felt so proud of possessing the love of a man invested
with such superhuman beauty and such a splendid intellect,
that she attempted not a remonstrance nor a complaint
against what was but the preface to a fifth absence
of four-and-twenty hours. And when Fernand Wagner
reappeared again, his Nisida hastened to meet him
as he descended from the mountains those
mountains which were crossed over by a surefooted and
agile man with so much difficulty, and which he knew
it would be impossible for him to traverse during
that mad career in which he was monthly doomed to whirl
along in his lupine shape yes, she hurried
to meet him receiving him with open arms smiled
tenderly upon him and led him to the sea-shore,
where she had spread the noonday meal in the most inviting
manner.
The unwearied and unchanging nature
of his love had touched her heart; and, during the
long hours of his fifth absence, she had reasoned on
the folly of marring the sweet harmony which should
prevail between the only two human tenants of that
island. The afternoon passed more happily than
many and many a previous day had done; Nisida thought
that Fernand had never seemed so handsome, though
somewhat pale, and he fancied that his companion had
never appeared so magnificently beautiful as now, while
she lay half reclining in his arms, the rays of the
setting sun faintly illuminating her aquiline countenance,
and giving a glossy richness to the luxuriant black
hair which floated negligently over her naked shoulders.
When the last beams of the orb of
day died flickeringly in the far horizon, the tender
pair retired to their hut rejoicing in the serene
and happy way in which the last few hours had glided
over their heads when a dark figure passed
along the sand and stopped at a short distance from
the door of the rudely constructed tenement.
And assuredly this was no mortal being nor
wore it now a mortal shape but Satan in
all the horrors of his ugliness, though still invested
with that sublimity of mien which marked the mighty
fallen angel Satan, clothed in terrors
ineffable, it was.
For a few moments he stood contemplating
the hut wherein the sleepers lay; dread lightnings
flushed from his eyes, and the forked electric fluid
seemed to play round his haughty brow, while his fearful
countenance, the features of which no human pen may
venture to describe, expressed malignant hate, anticipated
triumph, and tremendous scorn.
Then, extending his right hand toward
the hut, and speaking in that deep sonorous tone,
which when heard by mortal ears, seemed to jar against
the very soul, he chanted the following incantation:
“Woman of wild and fierce
desires!
Why languish thus the wonted
fires
That arm’d thine heart
and nerved thine hand
To do whate’er thy firmness
planned?
Has maudlin love subdued thy
soul,
Once so impatient of control?
Has amorous play enslaved
the mind
Where erst no common chains
confined?
Has tender dalliance power
to kill
The wild, indomitable will?
No more must love thus paralyze
And crush thine iron energies;
No more must maudlin passion
stay
Thy despot soul’s remorseless
sway;
Henceforth thy lips shall
cease to smile
Upon the beauties of this
Isle;
Henceforth thy mental glance
shall roam,
O’er the Mediterranean
foam,
Toward thy far-off Tuscan
home!
Alarms for young Francisco’s
weal,
And doubts into thy breast
steal;
While retrospection carries
back
Thy memory o’er time’s
beaten track
And stops at that dread hour
when thou
With burning eyes and flashing
brow,
Call’d Heaven to hear
the solemn vow
Dictated with the latest breath
Of the fond mother on the
untimely bed of death.”
Thus spoke the demon; and having chanted
the incantation, full of menace and of deep design,
he turned to depart.
Sleep was still upon the eyes of Fernand
and Nisida as they lay in each other’s arms the
island and the sea, too, were sleeping in the soft
light of the silver moon, and the countless stars which
gemmed the vault of heaven, when the dark
figure passed along the sand, away from the rudely-constructed
tenement.