It was night--and Fernand was pacing the sand with even greater
agitation than he had manifested during the cruel scene of the evening.
He was alone on the seashore; and Nisida slept in the hut. Terrible
thoughts warred in the breast of Wagner. Nisida's language had
astonished and alarmed him: he was convinced that Satan himself had
inspired her with those ideas, the utterance of which had nearly goaded
him to madness. She had insisted on the belief that he was acquainted
with the means of enabling her to return to Italy; and yet Nisida was
not a mere girl--a silly, whimsical being, who would assert the wildest
physical impossibilities just as caprice might prompt her. No--she
really entertained that belief--but without having any ostensible
grounds to establish it.
"Such an impression could only have been made upon her mind by the fiend
who seeks to entangle me in his meshes!" murmured Wagner to himself, as
he paced the strand. "The demon has failed to tempt me as yet--thrice
has he failed;--and now he musters all his force to assail me,--to
assail me, too, in the most vulnerable points! But, O Heaven, give me
strength to resist the dread influence thus brought to bear upon me!
What course can I adopt? what plan pursue? If to-morrow must witness a
renewal of that scene which occurred this evening, I shall succumb--I
shall yield; in a moment of despair I shall exclaim, 'Yes, Nisida--I
will sacrifice everything to acquire the power to transport thee back to
Italy;'--and I shall hurry to yon mountains, and seeking their wildest
defile, shall evoke the enemy of mankind, and say, 'Come, Satan, I give
thee my soul in exchange for the illimitable power thou offerest.' And
thus will be the terrible result--the fearful catastrophe."
Big drops of agony stood upon Fernand's brow as he uttered these words.
He saw that he was hovering on the verge of a fearful abyss--and he
trembled lest he should fall, so intense was his love for Nisida. At one
moment he thought of the soothing vision, full of hope and promise,
which had occupied his slumber in the morning; at another he pondered on
the tears, the prayers, and the threats of Nisida. The conflicting
thoughts were, indeed, sufficient to urge him on to a state of utter
despair:--his eternal salvation and the happiness of her whom he loved
so tenderly were placed in such antagonistic position that they raised a
fierce--a painful--an agonizing warfare in his breast. Now he would fall
upon his knees and pray--and pray fervently for strength to continue in
the right path: then he would again give way to all the maddening
influences of his bitter reflections; and, while in this mood, had Satan
suddenly stood before him, he would have succumbed--yes, he would have
succumbed. But the fiend had no longer any power to offer direct
temptation to the wretched Wagner. Oh! if he could die that moment, how
gladly would he release himself from an existence fraught with so much
misery; but death was not yet within the reach of him who bore the doom
of a Wehr-Wolf! The morning dawned, and Fernand Wagner was still pacing
the sand--dreading to meet Nisida again, and not daring to seek to avoid
her. Were he to fly to the mountains or to the forests, she would search
after him; and thus he would only be leading her into perils amidst
yawning precipices, or where she might become the prey of the terrible
anaconda. To remain were anguish--to fly were madness!
"Oh, wretch, miserable wretch that I am!" exclaimed Wagner, as he beheld
the twilight--so short in the tropics--growing more powerful, and knew
that Nisida would soon come forth from the hut. In a few minutes the orb
of day appeared above the Orient wave--and almost at the same time the
lady made her appearance on the shore.
"Fernand, thou hast not sought repose throughout the night just past!"
she said, advancing toward him, and endeavoring to read upon his
countenance the thoughts which filled his brain.
"Nisida," he replied, in a rapid and excited tone, "I have gone through
so much during the last few hours that 'tis a marvel reason has
maintained its seat. If thou lovest me, let us forget all those topics
which have so strongly excited us both: and let us unite our prayers
that Heaven will send thee means to quit this isle and return to thy
native land."
"Fernand," said Nisida, in a tone of deep disappointment and reproach,
"I was not prepared for this. Your words imply that you possess the
power to aid my departure hence, but that you have resolved not to use
it. Is that your decision?"
"I scorn to deceive thee, Nisida, by a direct falsehood in so serious a
matter as this," exclaimed Wagner. "Knowest thou, my beloved, at what
price must be purchased the power which alone can enable _me_ to effect
thy return to Italy? canst thou divine the immeasurable sacrifice which
I must make to gratify thy wishes?"
"Fernand," answered Nisida, in a reproachful and yet resolute tone,
"there is no price that I would not pay to obtain the means of pleasing
thee!--there is no sacrifice that I should shrink from were your
happiness at stake!"
"Nisida," ejaculated Wagner, in a tone of fearful excitement, "you drive
me to despair! Have mercy upon me, Nisida, have mercy upon me! My God!
if you taunt me--if you reproach me--thus I will do all that you
command; but force me not to believe, Nisida--my well beloved
Nisida--that, in espousing thee in the sight of Heaven, I took to my
bosom a fiend instead of a woman, a relentless demon in the most
charming female shape that evil spirit ever wore. Oh! if you knew all,
you would pity me as it is. So wretched on earth you would not compel me
to renounce every hope of salvation; for, know, Nisida," he added, his
countenance wearing an expression of indescribable horror, "know that in
demanding of me this last sacrifice, you ordain that I should sell my
immortal soul to Satan!"
For a moment Nisida appeared shocked and appalled at the words which met
her ears; but she rather recoiled from the manner of fearful excitement
in which they were uttered, than from the intelligence which they
conveyed.
"He who truly loves," she said coldly, as she recovered her equanimity,
"would make _even that_ sacrifice! and now listen--Fernand," she
continued, her eyes flashing fire, and her naked bosom heaving
convulsively as she spoke, while her splendid form was drawn up to its
full height, and her whole aspect sublimely terrible and wondrously
beautiful, even in that fit of agitated passion--"listen, Fernand!" she
cried, in her musical, flute-like voice, which, however, assumed the
imperious accent and tone of command: "thou art a coward, and unworthy
such an earnest--such a profound, such a devoted love as mine, if thou
refusest to consummate a sacrifice which will make us both powerful and
great as long as we live! Consider, my Fernand--the spirit with whom
thou wouldst league thyself can endow us with an existence running over
centuries to come, can invest us with eternal youth, can place countless
treasures at our disposal, can elevate us to the proudest thrones of
Christendom! Oh! wilt thou spurn advantages like those? wilt thou refuse
to avail thyself of gifts that must render us so supremely happy? No,
no: and we can return together to my native city, we can enter Florence
in triumph, thou no longer fearing the terror of the law, I no longer
compelled to simulate the doom of the deaf and dumb! Our enemies shall
lick the dust at our feet, and we shall triumph wherever success may be
desirable. Oh! I understand that beseeching, appealing look, Fernand:
thou thinkest that I shall love thee less if this immense sacrifice be
consummated, that I shall look upon thee with loathing. No, not so: and
to convince thee that mine is a soul endowed with an iron will, that
mine is an energy which can grapple even with remorse, I will reveal to
thee a secret which thou hast perhaps never even suspected. Fernand!"
she exclaimed, now becoming absolutely terrible with the excitement that
animated her; "Fernand!" she repeated, "'twas I who murdered the girl
Agnes, in the garden of thy mansion at Florence!"
"Thou, thou, Nisida?" almost shrieked Wagner wildly; "oh, no, no! Recall
that dreadful avowal! And yet--oh! yes--I see it all--my former
suspicions are confirmed. Wretched woman. What harm did the unfortunate
Agnes do to thee?"
"I saw in her a rival, Fernand--or fancied that she was so," answered
Nisida; "I overheard your conversation with her that morning in the
garden--I saw her embrace thee tenderly--mine ears drank in her words;
oh, I remember them even now! She said, 'Oh, what a night of uneasiness
have I passed! But at length thou art restored to me; thou whom I have
ever loved so fondly; although I abandoned thee for so long a time!'
Were not those her very words? And thou didst speak to her in a tone
equally tender. Ah! I have ever suspected that she was thy mistress;
although thou didst swear upon the cross, in thy dungeon, that she was
not. But so great was my love for thee, that I smothered the dread
suspicion----"
"Suspicion," repeated Wagner, in the penetrating tone of heart-rending
anguish,--an anguish so intense that his brain whirled, and he knew not
what he said or did. "Oh, wretched woman, and thou didst slay Agnes on a
mere suspicion?"
"I hated her--even before I entertained that suspicion," exclaimed
Nisida, impatiently; "for she was the mistress of my father! Thinkest
thou that my quick ears had not gleaned the mysterious whisperings which
frequently passed between my sire and his valet Antonio, relative to the
lady who dwelt in seclusion at the abode of that menial's mother? or
thinkest thou that when I once obtained a clew to my father's degrading
passion, I scrupled to watch him, to follow him, to learn all his
proceedings? No; for it was the more easily to enact the spy upon my own
father that originally simulated the doom of the deaf and dumb. A purse
of gold induced Dame Margaretha, Antonio's mother, to give me admission
into her house; though she also believed that I was really deprived of
the faculties of hearing and of speech. But often and often was I
concealed in the chamber adjacent to that where my father passed hours
with his mistress; and it was not without advantage that I so acted. For
I discovered that amongst the presents which he had given her, were the
jewels which had belonged to my sainted mother--that mother whose wrongs
were so manifold, and whose sufferings were so great. Yes: and I
possessed myself of those jewels, leaving the girl the other gifts which
she had received from my sire.
"And now, since I am involved in relations of such import, I shall do
well to inform thee, Fernand, that I had seen and loved thee before thou
didst come as a visitor to our mansion in Florence. For it was my habit
to proceed occasionally to the dwelling of the good Dr. Duras, the
depositary of my grand secret of the feigned loss of faculties; and
while wandering alone in his garden I once beheld thee! And the moment I
beheld I loved thee. Often--often after that would I visit the kind
physician's grounds, whereof I possessed a pass-key; and my admiration
of thee led me to pass the slight boundary which separated his garden
from thine. Then I would approach the windows of thy dwelling and
contemplate thee as thou wast seated in thy favorite apartment. On the
night of my father's funeral, although so very late when all the
subsequent business connected with the reading of the will was
concluded, my mind was so perturbed and restless that I could not sleep;
and quitting the Riverola mansion by a private door, I sought the fresh
air with the hope that it would calm me. Some vague and indescribable
sentiment of curiosity, or else something that I heard on the return of
the mourners, relative to the strange scene enacted in the church, I
know not which, led me to the vicinity of your abode; and there, in your
favorite room, I beheld you seated, listening attentively to some sweet
words, doubtless, which Agnes was breathing into your ear. But she
caught a glimpse of my countenance by the light of the lamps----"
"Enough! enough!" exclaimed Wagner; "thou hast indeed cleared up
innumerable mysteries! But, oh! Nisida--would that thou hadst remained
silent--that thou hadst not drawn aside the veil which my elevated
opinion of thee had thrown over the suspicions that, I admit, from time
to time----"
"And if I have told thee all this, Fernand," interrupted Nisida,
impatiently, "it is that thou may'st be convinced not only of the
natural energy of my mind, but also of the deep love which I bear thee.
And now, now that thou seest me in my true character, a murderess if
thou wilt," she added with an emphasis of bitter scorn, "now canst thou
refuse that sacrifice----"
"Nisida! Nisida! enough crime has been perpetrated by both us, Heaven
knows!" ejaculated Wagner, still writhing with the anguish produced by
the avowal which had so lately met his ears. "Oh! accursed be the day,
blotted from the annals of Time be the hour, Nisida, when thy hand
struck the fatal dagger into the heart of Agnes."
"What! this to my face?" said Nisida, her countenance becoming crimson
with indignation, and not her face only, but her swan-like neck, her
shoulders, and her bosom. "Then she _was_ thy mistress, Fernand! And
thou didst love her, while I fancied, false one that thou art, thine
affections to be wholly and solely mine."
"Nisida," exclaimed Fernand, cruelly bewildered, "you drive me to
despair. I know not whether to loathe thee for this avowal which thou
hast made, or to snatch thee to my arms, abandon all hope of salvation,
and sacrifice myself entirely for one so transcendently beautiful as
thou art. But thy suspicions relative to Agnes are ridiculous,
monstrous, absurd. For, as surely as thou art there, Nisida--as the
heaven is above us and the earth beneath us--as surely as that I love
thee so well as to be unable to reproach thee more for the deed which
thou hast confessed--so surely, Nisida, was Agnes my own granddaughter,
and I--I, Fernand Wagner--young, strong, and healthy as thou beholdest
me, am fourscore and fifteen years of age."
Nisida started in affright, and then fixed a scrutinizing glance upon
Fernand's countenance; for she feared that his reason was abandoning
him--that he was raving.
"Ah! Nisida, I see that you do not credit my words," he exclaimed; "and
yet I have told thee the solemn, sacred truth. But mine is a sad history
and a dreadful fate; and if I thought that thou would'st soothe my
wounded spirit, console, and not revile me, pity, and not loathe me, I
would tell thee all."
"Speak, Fernand, speak!" she cried; "and do me not so much wrong as to
suppose that I could forget my love for thee--that love which made me
the murderer of Agnes. Besides," she added, enthusiastically, "I see
that we are destined for each other; that the dark mysteries attached to
both our lives engender the closest sympathies; that we shall flourish
in power, and glory, and love, and happiness together."
Wagner threw his arms around Nisida's neck, and clasped her to his
breast. He saw not in her the woman who had dealt death to his
granddaughter; he beheld in her only a being of ravishing beauty and
wondrous mind, so intoxicated was he with his passion, and so great was
the magic influence which she wielded o'er his yielding spirit. Then, as
her head reclined upon his breast, he whispered to her, in a few
hurried, but awfully significant words, the nature of his doom, the
dread conditions on which he had obtained resuscitated youth, an almost
superhuman beauty, a glorious intellect, and power of converting the
very clods of the earth into gold and precious stones at will.
"And now, dearest," he added, in a plaintive and appealing tone, "and
now thou may'st divine wherefore on the last day of every month I have
crossed these mountains; thou may'st divine, too, how my escape from the
prison of Florence was accomplished; and, though no mortal power can
abridge my days--though the sword of the executioner would fall harmless
on my neck, and the deadly poison curdle not in my veins--still, man can
bind me in chains, and my disgrace is known to all Florence."
"But thou shalt return thither, Fernand," exclaimed Nisida, raising her
countenance and gazing upon him, not with horror and amazement, but in
pride and triumph; "thou shalt return thither, Fernand, armed with a
power that may crush all thine enemies, and blast with destructive
lightning the wretches who would look slightingly on thee. Already thou
art dearer, far dearer to me than ever thou wast before; for I love the
marvelous--I glory in the supernatural--and thou art a being whom such
women as myself can worship and adore. And thou repinest at thy destiny?
thou shudderest at the idea of that monthly transformation which makes
thy fate so grand, because it is so terrible? Oh, thou art wrong, thou
art wrong, my Fernand. Consider all thou hast gained, how many, many
years of glorious youth and magnificent beauty await thee! Think of the
power with which thy boundless command of wealth may invest thee. Oh,
thou art happy, enviable, blest. But I--I," she added, the impassioned
excitement of her tone suddenly sinking into subdued plaintiveness as
her charming head once more fell upon his breast--"I am doomed to fade
and wither like the other human flowers of the earth. Oh, that thought
is now maddening. While thou remainest as thou art now, vested with that
fine, manly beauty which won my heart when first I saw thee, and before
I knew thee: I shall grow old, wrinkled, and thou wilt loathe me. I
shall be like a corpse by the side of one endowed with vigorous life.
Oh, Fernand; this may not be; and thou canst purchase the power to
bestow unperishing youth, unchanging beauty upon me; the power,
moreover, to transport us hence, and render us happy in inseparable
companionship for long, long years to come."
"Merciful heavens! Nisida," exclaimed Fernand, profoundly touched by the
urgent, earnest appeal of the lovely siren whose persuasive eloquence
besought him to seal his own eternal damnation--"would'st thou have me
yield up my soul to the enemy of mankind?"
"Do you hesitate? Can you even pause to reflect?" cried Nisida, with
whose tongue the demon himself was as it were speaking. "Oh, Fernand,
you love me not, you have never, never loved me." And she burst into a
flood of tears. Wagner was painfully moved by this spectacle, which
constituted so powerful an argument to support the persuasive eloquence
of her late appeal. His resolution gave way rapidly--the more agonizing
became her sobs the weaker grew his self-command; and his lips were
about to murmur the fatal assent to her prayer--about to announce his
readiness to summon the enemy of mankind and conclude the awful
compact--when suddenly there passed before his eyes the image of the
guardian angel whom he had seen in his vision, dim and transparent as
the thinnest vapor, yet still perceptible and with an expression of
countenance profoundly mournful. The apparition vanished in a moment;
but its evanescent presence was fraught with salvation. Tearing himself
wildly and abruptly from Nisida's embrace, Wagner exclaimed in a tone
indicative of the horror produced by the revulsion of feeling in his
mind, "No--never--never!" and, fleet as the startled deer he ran--he
flew toward the mountains. Frightened and amazed by his sudden cry and
simultaneous flight, Nisida cast her eyes rapidly around to ascertain
the cause of his alarm, thinking that some dreadful spectacle had
stricken terror to his soul. But ah--what sees she? Why do her glances
settle fixedly in one direction? What beholds she in the horizon? For a
few moments she is motionless, speechless, she cannot believe her eyes.
Then her countenance, which has already experienced the transition from
an expression of grief and alarm to one of suspense and mingled hope and
fear, becomes animated with the wildest joy; and forgetting the late
exciting scene as completely as if it had never taken place, but with
all her thoughts and feelings absorbed in the new--the one idea which
now engrosses her--she turns her eyes rapidly round toward the
mountains, exclaiming, "Fernand, dearest Fernand! a sail--a sail."
But Wagner hears her not: she stamps her foot with impatient rage upon
the sand; and in another moment the groves conceal her lover from view.
Yes; Wagner looked not round; heard not the voice of Nisida invoking him
to return, but continued his rapid flight toward the mountains, as if
hurrying in anguish and in horror from the meshes which had been spread
to ensnare his mortal soul. And now Nisida became all selfishness; there
was at length a hope, a sudden hope that she should be speedily enabled
to quit the hated monotonous island, and her fine, large dark eyes were
fixed intently upon the white sails which gradually grew more and more
palpable in the azure horizon. She was not deceived; there was no doubt,
no uncertainty, as to the nature of the object which now engrossed all
her thoughts, and filled her heart with the wildest joy. It was indeed a
ship, and its course was toward the island; for, as she gazed with fixed
and longing eyes, it by degrees assumed a more defined shape; and that
which had at first appeared to be but one small white piece of canvas,
gradually developed the outlines of many sails, and showed the tapering
spars, until at last the black hull appeared, completing the form of a
large and noble vessel. Joy! joy--she should yet be saved from the
island. And, ah--do the chances of that hoped-for safety multiply? Is it
indeed another ship which has caught her eye in the far-off horizon?
Yes; and not one only, but another, and another, and another, until she
can count seven vessels, all emerging from the mighty distance, and
spreading their snow-white canvas to the breeze which wafts them toward
the isle.
Crowds of conflicting thoughts now rush to the mind of Nisida; and she
seats herself upon the strand to deliberate as calmly as she may upon
the course which she should adopt. Alas, Fernand: thou wast not then
uppermost in the imagination of thy Nisida, although she had not
entirely forgotten thee. But the principal topic of her meditations, the
grand question which demanded the most serious weighing and balancing in
her mind, was whether she should again simulate the deafness and
dumbness which she had now for many months been accustomed to affect.
Grave and important interests and a deeply-rooted attachment to her
brother on the one side urged the necessity of so doing; but on the
other, a fearful disinclination to resume that awful duplicity--that
dreadful self-sacrifice, an apprehension lest the enjoyment of the
faculties of hearing and speech for so long a period should have
unfitted her for the successful revival and efficient maintenance of the
deceit; these were the arguments on the negative side. But Nisida's was
not a mind to shrink from any peril or revolt from any sacrifice which
her interests or her aims might urge her to encounter; and it was with
fire-flashing eyes and a neck proudly arching, that she raised her head
in a determined manner, exclaiming aloud, "Yes, it must be so. But the
period of this renewed self-martyrdom will not last long. So soon as
thine interests shall have been duly cared for, Francisco, I will quit
Florence forever, I will return to this island, and here will I pass the
remainder of my days with thee, my beloved Fernand! And that I _do_ love
thee still, Fernand, although thou hast fled from my presence as if I
were suddenly transformed into a loathsome monster, that I must ever
continue to love thee, Fernand, and that I shall anxiously long to
return to thine arms, are truths as firmly based as the foundations of
the island. Thine, then, shall be the last name, thy name shall be the
last word that I will suffer my lips to pronounce ere I once more place
the seal upon them. Yes, I love thee, Fernand; oh! would to God that
thou could'st hear me proclaim how much I love thee, my beauteous, my
strangely-fated Fernand!"
It was almost in a despairing tone that Nisida gave utterance to these
last words; for as the chance of escape from the island grew every
moment less equivocal, by the nearer approach of the fleet, which was,
however, still far from the shore, the intensity of her sensual passion
for Wagner, that passion which she believed to be the purest and most
firmly rooted love, revived; and her heart smote her for her readiness
to abandon him to the solitude of that island. But as she was now
acquainted with all the mysteries of his fate, as she knew that he could
not die for many, many years to come, nor lose that glorious beauty
which had proved alike her pleasure and her pride, her remorse and her
alarms were to a considerable degree mitigated: for she thought within
herself, _although she now spoke aloud no more_; "Death will not snatch
him from me, disease will not impair his godlike features and elegant
form, and he loves me too well not to receive me with open arms when I
shall be enabled to return to him." These were her thoughts: and
starting upon her feet, she compressed her lips tightly, as if to remind
herself that she had once more placed a seal there, a seal not to be
broken for some time. An hour had now passed since Fernand Wagner and
Nisida separated on the seashore; and he did not come back. Meantime the
fleet of ships had drawn nearer, and though she more than once
entertained the idea of hastening after Wagner to implore him to
accompany her whithersoever those vessels were bound, or at least to
part with the embrace of tenderness, yet her fear lest the ships might
sail past without touching at the island, predominated over her softer
feelings. And now, having settled in her mind the course she was to
adopt, she hastened to the stores which she had saved from the wreck of
the corsair vessel, and which had been piled up on the strand the day
after she was first thrown on that Mediterranean isle.
It will be remembered that amongst the articles thus saved were changes
of apparel, which Stephano Verrina had procured for her use at Leghorn
ere the corsair-bark set sail on that voyage from which it never
returned, and during Nisida's long sojourn on the island, she had
frequently examined those garments, and had been careful to secure them
from the effects of rain or damp, in the hope that the day would sooner
or later come when she might assume them for the purpose of bidding
adieu to that lovely but monotonous island. And now that day has come;
and the moment so anxiously longed for appeared to be rapidly
approaching. Nisida accordingly commenced her toilet, as if she had only
just risen from her couch and was preparing to dress to go abroad
amongst the busy haunts of human beings.
Her dark luxuriant hair, which so long had floated negligently upon her
ivory shoulders, was now gathered up in broad massive bands at the
sides, and artistically plaited and confined at the back of her
well-shaped head. The tight bodice was next laced over the swelling
bosom: hose and light boots imprisoned the limbs which had so often
borne her glancing along in their nudity to the soft music of the stream
in the vale or of the wavelets of the sea; broidery set off the fine
form of Nisida in all the advantage of its glowing, full and voluptuous
proportions. Then the large black veil was fastened to the plaits of her
hair, whence its ample folds swept over that admirable symmetry of
person, endowing her once more with the queen-like air which became so
well her splendid, yet haughty style of beauty! Yes: no longer subdued
by simplicity of attire--no longer tender and soft, was the loveliness
of Nisida; but grand, imperious, and dazzling did she now seem again, as
erst she seemed ere her foot trod that island-shore.
Appareled in handsome garments, and with the rich carnation glow of
health and animation on her cheeks, and with her eyes flashing the fires
of hope, but with the vermilion lips compressed, Nisida now stood on the
strand where so oft she had wandered like a naiad, feeling no shame at
her semi-nudity.
During the time occupied by her toilet, the fleet of seven ships had
approached much nearer to the island, and now they were not more than
three miles distant. The hulls, which at first had seemed quite black,
shone, as they drew closer, with the gay colors in which they were
painted, the gorgeous sunlight playing vividly on the gilding of the
prows, the streaks of red and white along the sides, and the splendid
decorations of the poop lanterns. Noble and mighty ships they
were--ships of size such as Nisida had never seen before, and in
comparison with which all the merchant-vessels she had beheld at Leghorn
were but mere boats. There was no need to raise a signal to invite them
to approach--for that fleet was evidently steering toward the island.
Whence did this fleet come? whither was it bound? to what nation did it
belong? and would those on board treat her with attention and respect?
Such were the thoughts which flashed across her brain--and her heart
beat with anxiety for the arrival of the moment which should solve those
questions. Absorbed as she was in the contemplation of the noble
ships--those mighty but graceful swans of the ocean--she did not forget
to cast, from time to time, a rapid glance around, to see if Fernand
were retracing his way toward her. Alas! no--he came not--and she must
quit the isle without embracing him--without assuring him of her
constant love--without renewing her oft-repeated promise to return. Ah!
a thought struck her: she would leave a note for him in the hut! No
sooner was the project determined on than she set about its execution;
for there were writing materials amidst the stores saved from the
corsair-wreck. A brief but tender letter was hastily penned, and then
secured in a place where she knew he must find it should he revisit the
rude tenement in which they had so often slept in each other's arms. And
that he would revisit it she both fondly hoped and firmly
believed--revisit it so soon as the excitement and the terror, under the
influence of which he had parted from her, should have subsided. Her
mind was now much easier, and her beauty was wonderfully enhanced by the
glow of animation which suffused itself over her countenance, giving
additional light to her ever brilliant eyes, and rendering her noble
aquiline face resplendent to gaze upon.
The ships came to anchor at a distance of about two miles from the
shore: and though the banners of each were fluttering in the breeze, yet
Nisida was not well skilled enough in discriminating the flags of
different nations to be able immediately to satisfy herself to which
country that fleet belonged. But as she stood with her eyes fixed on the
foremost vessel, which was also the largest, she observed that there was
a gilt crescent in the middle of the blood-red standard that floated
over her central poop-lantern; and a chill struck to her heart--for the
thought of African pirates flashed to her mind! This alarm was, however,
as evanescent as it was poignant; for another moment's reflection
convinced her that none of the princes of Africa could send so proud a
fleet to sea. Following up the chain of reasoning thus suggested, and
calling to her aid all the accounts she had read of naval fights between
the Christians and the Moslems, she at length remembered that the
blood-red banner, with the gilt crescent in the middle, denoted the
presence of the Kapitan-Pasha, or Lord High Admiral of the Ottoman
Empire. Confidently believing that peace existed between Italy and
Turkey, she had now no longer any fears as to the treatment she was
likely to experience at the hands of the Mohammedans; and it was with
unfeigned joy that she beheld a boat, which had put off from the
admiral's ship, at length approaching the shore.
As the magnificently painted and gorgeously gilt barge, which
twenty-four white-turbaned rowers urged along with almost horse-race
speed, neared the strand, Nisida observed, beneath a velvet canopy in
the stern, a personage, who by his splendid apparel, his commanding
demeanor, and the respect paid to him by the slaves accompanying him,
was evidently of exalted rank. She accordingly conceived that this must
be the kapitan-pasha himself. But she was mistaken. Her delight at the
approach of the barge, which she fondly hoped would prove the means of
her deliverance from the island, was only equaled by the surprise of
those on board at beholding a beautiful and elegantly dressed lady,
unattended and alone, on the seashore, as if awaiting their arrival.
And, during the few minutes which now elapsed ere the barge touched the
strand, it was evident that the high functionary seated beneath the
canopy surveyed Nisida with increasing wonder and admiration; while she,
on her side, could not help noticing that he was remarkably handsome,
very young, and possessing a countenance rather of an Italian than a
Turkish cast of features.
Meantime a profound silence, broken only by the slight and uniform
sounds produced by the oars, prevailed: and when the boat touched the
strand, a long and wide plank, covered with velvet, was so placed as to
enable the high functionary before alluded to to land conveniently.
Attended by two slaves, who followed at a respectful distance, the
Mussulman chief advanced toward Nisida, whom he saluted in a manner
which strengthened her suspicion that he was not of Turkish origin,
although habited in the richest Oriental costume she had ever seen, and
evidently holding some very superior office among the Ottomans. She
returned his salutation with a graceful bow and a sweet smile: and he
immediately addressed her in the Italian tongue--her own dear and
delightful language, saying, "Lady, art thou the queen of this land? or
art thou, as appearances would almost lead one to conjecture, a solitary
inhabitant here?"
For he saw that she was alone--beheld no traces of culture; and there
was but one miserable dwelling, and that such as she might have built up
with her own hands. Nisida shook her head mournfully, making signs that
she was deaf and dumb. The Mussulman chief uttered an ejaculation of
mingled surprise and grief, and surveyed the lady with additional
interest and admiration. But in a few moments his countenance assumed a
sudden expression of astonishment, as if a light had broken in upon him,
suggesting something more than a mere suspicion--nay, indeed, a positive
conviction; and having examined her features with the most earnest
attention, he abruptly took his tablets from the folds of his garment,
and wrote something on them. He then handed them to Nisida; and it was
now her turn to experience the wildest surprise--for on the page opened
to her view were these words, traced in a beautiful style of
calligraphy, and in the Italian language: "Is it possible that your
ladyship can be the Donna Nisida of Riverola?"
Nisida's eyes wandered in astonishment from the tablets to the
countenance of him who had penciled that question; but his features were
certainly not familiar to her--and yet she thought that there was
something in the general expression of that handsome face not altogether
unknown to her. As soon as she had partially recovered from the surprise
and bewilderment produced by finding that she at least was known to the
Ottoman functionary, she wrote beneath his question the following reply:
"I am indeed Nisida of Riverola, who for seven long months have been the
only inhabitant of this island, whereon I was shipwrecked, and I am now
anxious to return to Italy--or at all events to the first Christian port
at which your fleet may touch. Have mercy upon me, then; and take me
hence! But who are you, signor, that I should prove no stranger to you?"
The Ottoman chief read these words, and hastened to reply in the
following manner: "I have the honor to be the grand vizier of his
imperial highness the glorious Sultan Solyman, and my name is Ibrahim. A
few months ago I encountered your brother Francisco, Count of Riverola,
who was then in command of a body of Tuscan auxiliaries, raised to
assist in defending Rhodes against the invading arms of the mighty
Solyman. Your brother became my prisoner, but I treated him worthily. He
informed me with bitter tears of the strange and mysterious
disappearance of his well-beloved sister, who had the misfortune to be
deprived of the faculties of hearing and speech. Your brother was soon
set free, after the fall of Rhodes, and he returned to his native city.
But from all he told me of thee, lady, it was natural that I should ere
now conjecture who thou must be."
Ibrahim did not choose to add that he had remembered to have seen Nisida
occasionally in their native city of Florence, and that he was indeed
the brother of her late dependent, Flora Francatelli. But the
explanation which he did give was quite sufficient to renew her deepest
surprise, as she now learnt for the first time that during her absence
her brother had been engaged in the perils of warfare. The grand vizier
gently withdrew from Nisida's hand the tablets on which her eyes were
positively riveted; but it was only to trace a few lines to afford her
additional explanations. When he returned the tablets to her again she
read as follows: "By a strange coincidence the glorious fleet which has
wafted me hither to deliver you from this lonely isle, and which is
under the command of the kapitan-pasha in person, is bound for the
western coast of Italy. Its mission is at present known only to myself
and a faithful Greek dependent; but your ladyship shall receive worthy
attention and be duly conveyed to Leghorn. The squadron has been driven
from its course by a tempest which assailed us off the island of Candia;
our pilot lost his reckonings, and when land was descried this morning,
it was believed to be the coast of Sicily. Hast thou, lady, any means of
enlightening us as to the geographical position of this island?"
Nisida answered in the ensuing manner: "I have not the least notion of
the geographical position of the island. An eternal summer appears to
prevail in this clime, which would be a terrestrial paradise were not
the forests infested by hideous serpents of an enormous size."
Ibrahim Pasha, having read this reply, summoned from the barge the
officer in command: and to him he communicated the intelligence which he
had just received from Nisida. That officer's countenance immediately
underwent a dreadful change; and, falling on his knees at Ibrahim's
feet, he made some strong appeal, the nature of which Nisida could only
divine by its emphatic delivery and the terrified manner of the
individual. Ibrahim smiled contemptuously, and motioned the officer with
an imperious gesture to rise and return to the barge. Then, again,
having recourse to the tablets, he conveyed the following information to
Nisida: "Lady, it appears that this is the Isle of Snakes, situated in
the Gulf of Sictra, on the African coast. Horrible superstitions are
attached to this clime: and I dare not remain longer on its shore, lest
I should seriously offend the prejudices of those ignorant sailors.
Come, then, lady, you shall receive treatment due to your rank, your
beauty, and your misfortunes."
In the meantime the officer had returned to the barge, where whispers
speedily circulated in respect to the land on which that boat had
touched; and the reader may imagine the extent of the loathing which the
mere name of the isle was calculated to inspire in the breasts of the
superstitious Mussulmans, when we observe that the existence of that
island was well known to the Turks and also to the Africans, but was
left uninhabited, and was never visited knowingly by any of their ships.
Nisida saw that the grand vizier was in haste to depart, not through any
ridiculous fears on his part, because he was too enlightened to believe
in the fearful tales of mermaids, genii, ghouls, vampires, and other
evil spirits by which the island was said to be haunted, but because his
renegadism had been of so recent a date that he dared not, powerful and
altered as he was, afford the least ground for suspecting that the light
of Christianity triumphed in his soul over the dark barbarism of his
assumed creed. Seeing, then, that Ibrahim Pasha was anxious to yield to
the superstitious feelings of the sailors, Nisida intimated, with a
graceful bend of the head, her readiness to accompany him. But, as she
advanced toward the boat, she cast a rapid and searching glance behind
her. Alas! Wagner appeared not.
A feeling of uneasiness, amounting almost to a pang of remorse, took
possession of her, as she placed her foot upon the velvet-covered plank;
and for an instant she hesitated to proceed.
Could she abandon Fernand to the solitude of that isle? Could she
renounce the joys which his love had taught her to experience? And might
she not be enabled to persuade him to make that sacrifice which would
invest him with a power that she herself would direct and wield
according to her own pleasure and suitably to her own interests? But,
oh! that hesitation lasted not more than a moment; for her feet were on
the plank leading to the barge, and at a short distance floated the ship
that would bear her away from the isle.
One longing, lingering look upon the shore of that island where she had
enjoyed so much happiness, even if she had experienced so much anxiety;
one longing, lingering look, and she hesitated no more. Ibrahim escorted
her to a seat beneath the velvet canopy; the officer in command gave the
signal, the barge was shoved off, the rowers plied their oars, and the
island was already far behind, ere Nisida had the courage to glance
toward it again!