Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf - Part 51
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Part 51

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 pa.s.sion 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 pa.s.sed along the sand, away from the rudely-constructed tenement.

CHAPTER LIV.

When the sun rose again from the orient wave, Fernand repaired to the grove, as was his wont, to gather fruits for the morning repast, while Nisida bathed her fair form in the waters of the Mediterranean.

But there was a gloom upon that lady's brow, and there was a somber flashing in her large dark eyes which denoted an incipient conflict of emotions stirring within her breast.

She had retired to rest, as we have seen on the previous evening, with a heart glowing toward her beloved and handsome Fernand--she had fallen asleep with the tender sounds of his musical yet manly voice in her ears, and the image of his beautiful countenance in her mind--but in the night--she knew not at what hour--strange dreams began to oppress her, ominous visions filled her with anxiety.

It seemed as if some being, having right to reproach and power to taunt, whispered to her as she slept, stern remonstrances against the idle, voluptuous, and dreaming life she was leading, mocking her for pa.s.sing her time in the maudlin delights of love, calling upon her to arouse her latent energies and shake off that luxurious lethargy, teaching her to look upon the island, beauteous though it were, as one vast prison in which she was confined, from whence there were, nevertheless, means of escape, raising up before her mental vision all the most alluring and bustling scenes of her own fair, native city of Florence, then bitterly reproaching her for having allowed her soul to be more wrapped up in the society of Fernand Wagner, than solicitous, as it was wont to be, for the welfare of her brother Francisco, creating, too, wild doubts in her imagination as to whether circ.u.mstances might not, after all, have united her brother and Flora Francatelli in the bonds of a union which for many reasons she abhorred, and lastly thundering in her ears the terrific accusation that she was perjured to a solemn and an awful vow pledged by her lips, on a dread occasion, and to the dictating voice of her dying mother.

When she awoke in the morning her brain appeared to be in confusion, but as her thoughts gradually settled themselves in the various cells of the seat of memory, the entire details of her long dream a.s.sumed the semblance of a connected chain, even as we have just described them.

For these thoughts had arisen in the nature and order commanded by the demon.

Fernand Wagner saw that the mind of his lovely companion, his charming bride, was ruffled; and, as he embraced her tenderly, he inquired the cause. His caresses for the moment soothed her, and induced her to struggle against the ideas which oppressed: _for there are thoughts that Satan excites within us_, which we can wrestle with--ay, and conquer if we will.

Finding that Nisida became more composed, and that she treated her mournfulness and his agitation merely as the results of a disagreeable dream, Fernand rose, hastened to perform his own ablutions, and then repaired to the adjacent grove, as above stated. But Nisida remained not long in the Mediterranean's mighty bath; the moment Wagner had departed from her presence, thoughts which had recently pa.s.sed in sad procession through her brain came back with renewed vigor; forcing themselves, as it were, upon her contemplation, because she offered but a feeble resistance to their returning invasion. And as she stood on the sh.o.r.e, having donned her scant clothing, and now combing out her long, luxuriant hair, to the silk richness of which the salt water had lent a more glorious gloss--she became a prey to an increasing restlessness--an augmenting anxiety, a longing to quit the island, and an earnest desire to behold her brother Francisco once again, sentiments and cravings which gave to her countenance an expression of somber lowering and concentrated pa.s.sion, such as it was wont to exhibit in those days when her simulated deafness and dumbness forced her to subdue all the workings of her excited soul, and compress her vermilion lips to check the ebullition of that language which on those occasions struggled to pour itself forth.

"O Italy! Italy!" she exclaimed in an impa.s.sioned tone; "shall I ever behold thee again? O! my beloved native land, thou too, fair city, whose name is fraught with so many varied reminiscences for me, am I doomed never to visit ye more?"

"Nisida--dearest Nisida!" said Wagner, who had returned to her unperceived, and unheard--for his feet pa.s.sed noiselessly over the sand; "wherefore those pa.s.sionate exclamations? why this anxious longing to revisit the busy, bustling world? Are not the calm and serene delights of this island sufficient for our happiness? or art thou wearied of me who love thee so tenderly?"

"I am not wearied of thee, my Fernand!" replied Nisida, "nor do I fail to appreciate all thy tender affection toward me. But--I can conceal it from myself and from thee no longer--I am overcome with the monotony of this isle. Unvaried sunshine during the day, unchanging calmness by night, pall upon the soul. I crave variety, even the variety that would be afforded by a magnificent storm, or the eruption of yon sleeping volcano. My thoughts wander in spite of myself toward Italy; I think, too, of my brother--the young and inexperienced Francisco! Moreover, there is in our mansion at Florence, a terrible mystery which prying eyes may seek to penetrate,--a closet containing a fearful secret, which, if published to the world, would heap loathing execrations and disgrace on the haughty name of Riverola! And now Francisco is the sole guardian of that mystery, which he himself knows not, or at least knew not, when last we were together. But it requires a strong and energetic mind, like my own, to watch over that awful secret. And now, Fernand, dear Fernand, thou canst not blame me, thou wilt not reproach me, if I experience an irresistible longing to return to my native land?"

"And know you not, Nisida," said Wagner, in a tone of mingled mournfulness and reproach, "that, even if there were any means for thee to return to Florence, I could not accompany thee? Dost thou not remember that I informed thee, that being doomed to death, I escaped from the power of the authorities--it matters not how; and that were I to set foot in Florence, it would be to return to my dungeon?"

"Alas! all this I remember well--too well!" exclaimed Nisida. "And think not, my Fernand, that I feel no pang, when I lay bare to thee the state of my soul. But if it were possible for us to go to Italy, thou couldst dwell secretly and retiredly in some suburb of Florence, and we should be together often--very often!"

"No--Nisida," answered Wagner; "that were impossible! Never more may I venture into that city--and if thou couldst even find the means to revisit thy native clime, thither must thou go, and there must thou dwell _alone_!"

For Wagner knew full well that were the lady to return to Florence, she would hear of the frightful incidents which marked his trial and also the day of his escape; and, though he had at first inclined to impart to her the terrible secret of his fate--yet subsequent and more calm deliberation in his own mind had convinced him of the imprudence of giving her love a shock by such a tremendous--such an appalling revelation.

"Fernand," said Nisida, breaking silence after a long pause, during which she was wrapped in profound meditation, "thy words go to my heart like fiery arrows! O my handsome--my beautiful--my beloved Fernand, why does destiny thus persecute us? It is impossible for thee to return to Florence:--it is equally impossible for me to renounce the first opportunity which Heaven may afford for me to repair thither! My G.o.d!

wherefore do our fates tend in such opposite directions? to separate from thee were maddening: to abandon my brother Francisco--to desert the grave and solemn interests which demand my presence at home, were to render myself perjured to a vow which I breathed and which Heaven witnessed, when I knelt long years ago at the death-bed of my mother!"

"After all thou hast said, my beloved Nisida," exclaimed Fernand, in a voice expressive of the deepest melancholy, "I should be wrong--I should be even criminal to listen only to the whispering of my own selfishness and retain thee here, did opportunity serve for thy departure. But on this island shall I remain--perhaps forever! And if the time should come when you grew wearied of that bustling world across the sea, and thy memory traveled to this lonely isle where thy Fernand was left behind thee,--haply thou wouldst embark to return hither and pa.s.s the remainder of thy days with one who can never cease to love thee!"

Tears came into the eyes of Nisida--of her who so seldom, so very seldom wept;--and throwing herself into Wagner's arms, she exclaimed, "G.o.d grant that I may revisit my native land; and believe me, oh! believe me, when I declare that I would come back to thee the moment the interests of my brother no longer demanded my presence!"

They embraced fondly, and then sat down upon the sand to partake of their morning repast.

But the thoughts of both were naturally intent upon the recent topic of their discourse; and their conversation, though each endeavored to force it into other channels, reverted to the subject which was now uppermost in their minds.

"What must my poor brother Francisco conjecture to be the cause of my prolonged, and to him mysterious absence?" said Nisida, as her eyes were cast wistfully over the wide expanse of waters. "Methinks that I have already hinted to thee how the foolish pa.s.sion which he had conceived for a maiden of low degree and obscure birth, compelled me, in accordance with his nearest and best interest, to consign the object of his boyish love to the convent of the Carmelites? Yes, and it was with surprise and dismay incredible that I heard, ere I was torn away from Florence by the villain Stephano, how that convent was sacked and destroyed by unknown marauders----"

"Full intelligence of which terrible sacrilege you communicated to me by signs the second and last time you visited me in my dungeon," observed Wagner.

"And I heard also, with increased fear," continued Nisida, "that some of the inmates of that convent had escaped; and, being unable, in consequence of my simulated deafness and dumbness, to set on foot the necessary inquiries, I could not learn whether Flora Francatelli was amongst those who had so escaped the almost general ruin. O! if she should have survived that fatal night--and if she should have again encountered my brother! Alas! thou perceivest, my Fernand, how necessary it is for me to quit the island on the first occasion which may serve for that purpose!"

"And wouldst thou, Nisida," asked Wagner reproachfully, "place thyself as a barrier between the Count of Riverola and her whom he loves?"

"Yes!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Nisida, her countenance suddenly a.s.suming a stern and imperious expression: "for the most important interests are involved in the marriage which he may contract. But enough of this, Fernand," she added, relapsing into a more tender mood. "And now tell me--canst thou blame me for the longing desire which has seized upon me--the ardent craving to return to Florence?"

"Nay--I do not blame thee, dearest Nisida!" he exclaimed; "but I pity thee--I feel for thee! Because," he continued, "if I understand rightly, thou wilt be compelled to feign deafness and dumbness once more, in order to work out thy mysterious aims;--thou wilt be compelled to submit to that awful martyrdom--that terrible duplicity which thou wilt find so painful and difficult to resume, after the full enjoyment of the blessed faculties of speech and hearing."

"Alas! such will be my duty!" murmured Nisida; "and oh! that destiny is a sad one! But," she exclaimed, after a moment's pause, and as a reminiscence appeared suddenly to strike her, "dost thou not think that even such a destiny as that becomes tolerable, when it is fulfilled as the only means of carrying out the conditions of a vow breathed to a well-beloved and dying mother? But wearisome--oh! crushingly tedious was that mode of existence;--and the first bright day of real happiness which I enjoyed, was that when I first knew that thou didst love me! And again, Fernand--oh! again was I supremely happy when, one evening--thou may'st remember well,--it was the eve that my brother and the minion Flora exchanged tender words together in the room adjoining that where we were seated--on that evening, Fernand, I besought by signs that thou wouldst breathe the words--_I love thee!_ and thou didst so--and I drank in those words as a person dying with thirst would imbibe pure spring water placed to his lips!"

Fernand pressed Nisida to his heart--for he saw, in spite of her anxiety to return to Italy, that she really loved him.

But though sensual and impa.s.sioned feelings led the beauteous Nisida thus frequently to melt into softness and tenderness when she contemplated the wondrously handsome countenance of Fernand, yet from this day forth her longing to return to Italy became more earnest--more irresistible; and she would compel him to sit by her side for hours together on the sh.o.r.e, while she eagerly watched for the appearance of a sail in the horizon. And Fernand, who divined her object, himself now longed for the advent of a ship;--so sincere was his love for Nisida that he was ready to make any sacrifice in order to promote her happiness. Thus pa.s.sed away the sixth month; and on the afternoon of the last day thereof, when Wagner was about to observe to her that the time had now arrived for him to pa.s.s the mountains once again, she said of her own accord, "Fernand, my beloved, when next you visit the other side of the island, you would do well to raise some sign, or leave some permanent mark to show that there are inhabitants on this island. For a ship might touch at that point--the sailors might seek the sh.o.r.e for water, and they would then search to discover where those who raised the signal-post are dwelling."

"Your wish shall be fulfilled, dearest," answered Wagner; "and without delay will I seek the other side of the island."

They then embraced tenderly, and Fernand departed, once more to fulfill his frightful doom! Nisida watched his receding form until it was lost in the groves intervening between the plains and the acclivities of the range of mountains; and then she seated herself again on the sand, wondering of what nature her husband's secret could be, and why it compelled him to absent himself occasionally from her. Though _he_ kept an accurate calculation of the lapse of time, and counted the pa.s.sing days with unvarying precision, yet she retained no such faithful calendar in her memory, and had not observed that his absence always occurred on the last day of the month.

The hour of sunset was now rapidly approaching, and as Nisida was wrapped in thought, but with her eyes fixed wistfully upon the mighty bosom of the deep, a slight sound as of the rustling of garments fell upon her ears. She started up and glanced suddenly around. But how ineffable was her astonishment--how great was her sudden joy, when she beheld the figure of a man approaching her; for it instantly struck her that the same ship which had conveyed him thither might bear her away from a scene which had latterly become insupportably monotonous.

The individual whose presence thus excited her astonishment and her delight, was tall, thin, and attired rather in the German than in the Italian fashion: but, as he drew nearer, Nisida experienced indefinable emotions of alarm, and vague fears rushed to her soul--for the expression of that being's countenance was such as to inspire no pleasurable emotions. It was not that he was ugly;--no--his features were well formed, and his eyes were of dazzling brilliancy. But their glances were penetrating and reptile-like,--glances beneath which those of ordinary mortals would have quailed; and his countenance was stamped with a mingled sardonism and melancholy which rendered it painful to contemplate.

Nisida attributed her feeling of uneasiness and embarra.s.sment to the shame which she experienced at finding herself half-naked in the presence of a stranger, for so oppressive bad become the heat of the summer, that her clothing was most scanty, and she had long ceased to decorate her person with garlands and wreaths of fantastically woven flowers.

"Fear not, lady," said the demon, for he indeed it was; "I am come to counsel and solace, not to alarm thee."

"How knowest thou that I require counsel? and who art thou that talkest to me of solace?" asked Nisida, her sentiment of shame yielding to one of boundless surprise at hearing herself thus addressed by a being who appeared to read the very inmost secrets of her soul.

"I am one who can penetrate into all the mysteries of the human heart,"

returned the fiend, in his sonorous, deep-toned voice; "and I can gather thy history from the expression of thy countenance, the att.i.tude in which I first beheld thee, while thou wast still seated upon the strand, and the mingled emotions of surprise and joy with which thou didst mark my presence. Is it, then, difficult to imagine that thou requirest counsel to teach thee how to proceed so as to obtain thine emanc.i.p.ation from this isle? or would it be extraordinary if, moved by thy sorrow, I offered to befriend thee? And is it not ever the way with mortals--poor, weak, miserable beings that they are--to grow speedily dissatisfied with their lot? In the spirit of religion ye say that Heaven controls your destinies according to its own wise purposes; and when all goes well with ye, and you have your desires, ye pray and are thankful, because, forsooth," added the demon, with a smile of bitter scorn, "it is so easy to pray when ye are contented and happy, and so easy to be thankful when ye are pampered with all ye require. Here art thou, lady, on an island teeming with all the choicest fruits of the earth, and enjoying an eternal summer, where all is pleasant to the view, and to whose silent sh.o.r.es the cares of the great world cannot come; and yet thou wouldst quit this calm retreat, and rush back into the vortex of evil pa.s.sions, warring interests, conflicting pursuits! But I will not weary thee with my reflections; although it is my nature first to upbraid and taunt those whom I intend to serve!"

"And who art thou, strange being, that reasoneth morally with the smile of scorn upon thy lips?" demanded Nisida, the vague alarms which had previously influenced her reviving with additional power; "who art thou, I say, that comest to reproach, and yet profferest thine aid?"

"No matter who I am," replied the fiend. "Some day thou may'st know me better, if thou----"

"But how camest thou hither? Where is the ship that brought thee--the boat that landed thee?" demanded Nisida in a tone of feverish impatience.

"No ship brought me hither--no boat set me on the sh.o.r.e," answered the demon, fixing his eyes--those piercing eyes upon Nisida's countenance, as if to read the impression which this strange revelation made upon her secret soul.