Part 9

Irritated and disappointed, Antiphates at last gave up the useless search, and during the succeeding days busied himself in sending forth express couriers over the country, north, west, and east, to seek for the forest, and to find out and bring to Deva all discoverable denizens of woods, forests, and thickets. Besides this, he issued a royal mandate, setting forth that every wandering maiden should instantly be conducted to his palace. A few strolling gipsies were in consequence brought before him, and told innumerable falsehoods concerning their previous lives and companions, but none of them were able to throw the least light upon the cause of the King's defective eyesight.

Pending the result of more active measures, however, Antiphates was roused from the apathy into which he had been plunged for many years regarding his misfortune, and taught himself to hope he hardly knew what, from the hidden pages of the future. But day after day went by, and no fresh event enlivened the dismal tranquillity of the palace precincts.

We may thus more readily understand the monarch's abrupt condescension and excitement on hearing Fidunia's first words, and learning that she had but lately quitted a forest. Her sweetly modulated voice at once carried a favourable impression to his sensitive ear, and, conjoined with the mysterious and ever-present prophecy, touched a slumbering chord in his jaded breast.

Indeed, as they now drove back to the city from whence he had issued so short a time before in listless uncertainty, his mind ran riot with wild chaotic fancies.

They drew near the frowning gates of Deva. A sudden pause, as the massive portals rolled back on their hinges, and the soldiers presented arms, awoke Fidunia from her trance. She started and looked around, eagerly surveying the splendours of that enchanting capital.

Meanwhile the fairer inhabitants of the town gathering, according to primeval custom, by balcony, window, and doorway, to feast their eyes on the royal pageant and the gallant escort of cavaliers; passed from mouth to mouth the incredible news that a stranger damsel was seated in their monarch's chariot. Ere the gaping crowd had time, however, to note more than the mere outline of a drooping form, the narrow streets were swiftly threaded, and scaling the little hill on which Xylina stood, the whole squadron disappeared within the leafy boundaries of King Antiphates' summer residence.

Fidunia could not repress an exclamation of delighted wonder as they halted at the palace door.

Castle Xylina rose in turreted heights of dazzling whiteness above them, pure as the day it was completed. In that favoured climate neither smoke nor inclement weather marred the snowy beauties of its marble walls and terraces. It was approached by seven broad alleys: six of these, carpeted with natural greensward, converged through the small wood already mentioned, towards the broad central plateau. The seventh avenue, leading from the town, up which the King had just driven, was like the city itself, paved with lava.

The castle from its elevated situation, commanded an exquisite prospect towards the south across the open bay of Deva. The surrounding trees completely shut out the neighbouring town. Only faint, distant sounds, and the chiming of church and convent bells borne upon the air, betokened the near presence of the busy thousands below. Innumerable craft, moreover, moored or moving on the still blue waters, gave an air of life to the otherwise dreamy silence, that with mistlike wings enfolded the fair prosperous Deva and her environs as Fidunia thus first beheld them.

But now a courtly throng pressed around, a hundred eyes were bent on the embarrassed stranger and her singular companion, a hundred hands out-stretched to assist her in her descent from the carriage. But no sooner had the King himself touched the ground in safety, than he turned, and taking her hand in his, led her slowly up the broad white marble steps into the central hall of his magnificent palace.

She had scarcely time to glance round her ere her royal host, divining both her fatigue and her bashfulness, summoned and gave minute directions to the women of the palace regarding her welfare, and resigned her into their charge. Smiling kindly on their unexpected guest, they ushered her along lofty passages to a chamber widely different from any the simple maiden had ever beheld either in her wanderings or even in her dreams.

Thoroughly overcome by fatigue, and hardly pausing even to partake of the tempting fare presented to her, or to survey the beauties of her new abode, Fidunia sought her pillow. The neat-handed abigails, after preparing a bed for Fido within the recess where stood his mistress's couch, retired, first bidding her summon them at will, as their apartments were close at hand.

Youth and exhaustion soon closed the stranger's eyes, and it was late on the following day before Fidunia could rouse herself completely from her heavy slumbers.

At length a continuous plashing sound mingled itself with her dreams. She thought she was once more in her forest home, and that the little fountain with its clear bubbling waters invited her to her morning bath.

She slowly unclosed her eyes. But no leafy branches spread their matted foliage above her head; lovely rosy curtains fell instead on either side of her soft little couch. She raised herself--surprised and wondering--at her first movement, Fido already on the alert, capered across the tesselated floor, oddly slipping hither and thither on its smooth surface.

She stepped carefully from her alcove, and proceeded on a voyage of exploration. She soon ascertained that the sound of running water was no vain product of her own imagination, but that it came from a recess corresponding to that in which she had slept. Within this niche a marble Triton poured through his conch-shell a continuous stream. On either side the entrance to the snowy basin beneath, a nymph so stood that the roseate curtains could either be held back in their extended arms, or loosened completely to shut off the recess from the rest of the room.

Overjoyed at discovering this welcome substitute for her oft-regretted forest spring, Fidunia swiftly performed her simple toilet.

With all the carelessness of one little accustomed to regard her personal appearance, she hardly even glanced at the magnificent burnished mirror and its costly accessories, but hastened from window to window, eager to become acquainted with her new abode.

Towards the south, connected outside by a shady verandah, three long windows fronted the open bay, commanding the same extensive view that had delighted her the evening before. Two of similar form opened eastward, and Fidunia could scarcely repress a shudder, as raising her eyes to scan the more distant horizon, she beheld, frowning behind nearer slopes of verdant loveliness, the grim mountain of her dreams, whose gloomy boundaries she had skirted on the previous day. A slumberous cloud partially shrouded its dark heights. In the vista of coast, cape, and blue headland lengthening beyond, earth, sea, and sky, melted into one indistinguishable haze of atmospheric beauty.

Easily unfastening one of these eastern windows, Fidunia perceived a flight of steps leading thence into the palace gardens below. Followed by Fido, the fearless child of nature quickly descended the stairs, and plunged into the artificial intricacies of the pleasure grounds beneath.

A thrill of remembrance came upon her. Surely she had trodden these trim-kept walks before, and inhaled the strange rich odour of the blossoming orange that hung heavy on the air?

Stopping, bewildered, she raised her hand to her brow. As she thus stood rapt in thought, the noise of approaching voices apprised her that Antiphates, leaning on the arm of Domenichino, drew near. Swift as lightning, recollection flashed across her. While the impatient monarch came towards her, guided by his servant, she half expected to see and hear the tiny elves who in her forest dreams had swung and sung their eerie refrain amid just such scenes as these.

When the King learned that she had not yet broken her fast, he commanded food to be brought to an arbour near at hand, where he himself joined his guest. He found much entertainment in trying to follow the movements of the little dog, who, summoned by his mistress, went through all his pretty tricks.

With unwonted softness in his voice and manner, Antiphates strove to set Fidunia at her ease, and to engage her in conversation. He led her on to speak of herself and of her previous lonely life. He encouraged her to tell him all that had befallen her since she left the forest.

Domenichino oftentimes listened in surprise. His master, hitherto so hasty and imperious, with rare patience, endeavoured to overcome Fidunia's timidity and reserve. Antiphates even forgot to murmur continually at his own affliction--nay, he felt a certain pleasure in claiming the young girl's assistance, as they wandered together in the gardens, or moved from room to room of the palace.

Day after day glided swiftly away, and life became a fresh pleasure to the weary King as he listened to the strange adventures and artless sayings of the ingenuous maiden. He derived perpetual amusement from her novel descriptions of familiar objects presented to him under a widely different aspect by her humorous remarks.

For years upon years he had existed with all of visible beauty veiled from his sight; and he now conjured up to himself an exquisite ideal of his youthful companion. Her low melodious voice, her gentle touch, and her soft light step, full of grace, taught him insensibly to dream of a far fairer form than poor Fidunia actually possessed.

He became so deeply interested in his new friend, that ere long that interest was merged in love. Morning, noon, and night, he was her inseparable companion, nor could he rest quiet when she was absent from him. He found in her society a nameless charm that tamed and softened his arrogant spirit. With extraordinary humility he learnt to defer to her slightest wish. With unwonted self-abnegation, he laid siege to the citadel of her heart.

Listening entranced to his tender words, there now ensued a period when, for the first time to the guileless Fidunia, if not to her more experienced suitor,

"Love took up the glass of Time, and turned it in his glowing hands; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight."

Antiphates soon told the wondering maiden all he had heard in the cave. His thoughts turned continually upon the mysterious prophecy, and they often held sweet counsel together over those singular but well-remembered words.

A dim foreboding of evil in the future, and an intense clinging to the peaceful joyous life of the present, led Fidunia to approach this subject with secret reluctance. An inward voice told her she possessed not beauty's potent charm; yet she felt that to her blind monarch she was all in all. Again and again she had to stifle the rising fear of possible change in his love, and chided herself for unworthy thoughts and lukewarm energy.

With all the eagerness of his impetuous nature, Antiphates constantly recurred to the charge, urging Fidunia to do her utmost to deliver him from his infirmity. In glowing terms he depicted the pleasures of their common existence if he were able, not merely to hear and to feel, but to watch and to guide his heart's beloved through her future life.

As he spoke, the forest maid often felt the hidden talisman rise and fall with the heavings of her tender bosom. Obedient to the donor, she never disclosed its existence, even to Antiphates, or told him of her strange dreams. It needed, however, no small resolution on her part to avail herself of the charm so solemnly committed to her charge by Dame Anna. At length, unable longer to resist the oft-repeated solicitations of her royal lover, she faithfully promised him to exert her feeble powers to the utmost on his behalf.

With a lingering footstep she sought her chamber that evening, filled with awe at the prospect of invoking the aid of her scarce known friend. When all was silent for the night, Fidunia trimmed the classic lamp by her bedside, for it was the new moon, and no light came from without. Watched only by the wakeful Fido, she drew the sparkling prism from its accustomed place. Remembering her instructions, she placed it in the palm of her hand, then bent (for another's sake), on peering into futurity, she resolutely fixed her eyes on the talisman. Swaying to and fro with the intensity of her emotions, she chanted the required invocation:

Strange gem, upon thy crystal core I gaze, the while I aid implore; Trembling upon the verge of fate, Oh, point my path ere yet too late! I fain would gain the boon I ask. Is mine the strength for such a task? Canst thou unloose the links that bind, Or vanquish powerful foes combined? Then show whate'er there lurks of art Within thine own mysterious heart; On thee I turn a hopeful eye, Bright stone of silence, make reply.

The magic stone grew larger and larger. Its brilliant centre, like a searching eye, returned Fidunia's gaze with dazzling refulgence. Heavier and heavier drooped her falling lids, her recumbent form sought more and more the support of her little couch, at length borne down by resistless force, she lay unnerved and motionless.

The lamp became extinguished. All was dark, silent, and blank. Her corporeal frame slumbered inert and passive. But now every spiritual faculty throbbed into keen activity. The whole chamber was filled with soft penetrating light. The kind Anna's well-remembered form stood beside her. With one hand she raised Fidunia on her couch, with the other she pointed towards the south.

To Fidunia's intense surprise, she beheld a ray of moonlight illumine the sombre waters of the Bay of Deva, reaching in one narrow unbroken line to what she well knew as the distant though hitherto unvisited island of Spera. She gazed bewildered from her raised alcove, which commanded an easy view of the landscape beneath, through the wide, open windows.

How could the small silver horn of the newborn moon cast such brilliant light on the dark ocean? She turned a troubled glance towards her unwonted visitant, but her voice was spell-bound; the questions she fain would have uttered died upon her lips. With a sad and solemn gesture her protectress still pointed towards the heights of Spera, then sighed, rather than said these lines:

Far, far o'er the depths of that shimm'ring blue sea, The drops trickle slowly so sought for by thee; Enwrapt by the jealous embrace of the deep, A lake without sky, without motion doth sleep. Though distant, and hidden the shrine of the cave By the busy bright waters its entrance that lave, Yet only the touch of an innocent maiden Can e'er give effect to those drops virtue-laden. At midnight a ray shall illumine the portal All sombre and silent, ne'er threaded by mortal. At midnight, by moonlight, that path can be crossed, By her, who heroic, ne'er counteth the cost. Oh, chilly the ocean, and lonely the hour, Or the charm that thou seekest is reft of its power; And voiceless and mute thine endeavours must be, Or fruitless thy labours and harmful to thee. Yet, maiden, forbear! ere thou challenge the spell Remember--with thee and with thine it is well! In thee and thy love the blind monarch is blest: Then dwell in his palace--Fidunia--at rest.

As the last couplet fell on Fidunia's ears all else became as nought. The dear thought of her first and faithful lover filled her imaginative mind. What recked she of trouble or sorrow to be undergone in his service! Would she not even give life itself for the sake of him who had first called into existence all the passionate but unknown wealth of her unselfish soul! Dreamily she recalled to herself his whispered vows, his ardent tones, and thus from waking dreams slowly fell on sleep, undisturbed and profound.

It was late the following morning before she awoke to the realities of life. As she dressed herself she pondered much over the visions of the night. Was all a dream, like her forest fancies?

She looked everywhere for the talisman, but it was nowhere to be seen. Its absence weighed somewhat heavily on her mind. The reality of her midnight experience was brought home to her, as she perpetually missed the shining stone from its wonted hiding-place.

Fidunia now hastened to her monarch's presence. Considering that the loss of the talisman released her from her promise of secrecy, she confided its whole history to the astonished King. She told him also her waking vision of the previous night. She described Dame Anna's appearance, and repeated some of her words.

Thoroughly roused Antiphates entreated Fidunia to keep nothing more concealed from him. Using all his powers of persuasion he at length drew from her unwilling lips the particulars of her three wild forest dreams.

In a voice trembling with emotion he hailed the forest maiden as his predestined deliverer, nor was his eager curiosity satisfied till he had asked innumerable questions. Fidunia sighed as she noted his feverish agitation. Remembering the warning contained in the last rhythmical lines, she feared lest his hopes should be dashed to the ground.

As they sat together in his favourite turret above the castle porch, he explained to her that rumour spoke of a hidden cave in the Isle of Spera. Recalling to mind the line of light she had so distinctly seen across the bay, Fidunia pointed it out as having terminated beneath the highest peak of the island. Antiphates decided that an endeavour to find the cave should be made when the moon next became full. He would fain himself have aided in the search; but Fidunia, anxious to have her mind steadfastly set on the one object of the expedition, persuaded him to remain within the palace, and to allow her to go forth guarded only by Domenichino.

Domenichino secretly hired, as for his own use, one of the boats belonging to a fisherman of Spera. He carefully questioned the men of the place about their island. They all seemed aware of the probable existence of a cave only accessible from the sea, but partly from the dreamy indolence common to those climes, partly from superstition, no one had as yet discovered its entrance. A thousand old legends, however, sung of the hidden beauties of this wondrous grotto, a hundred wild tales were told among these simple people of the magic and wonder-working fountain therein concealed from mortal eyes.

At last the time arrived when, at midnight, Cynthia should reach her cold meridian of beauty. Fidunia resolved to leave Fido for the first time behind her. She committed him to the willing charge of the King, but the little animal, who from the first had taken a dislike to Antiphates, could not be got away from his mistress's chamber. There, extended on the moonlit verandah, he remained during her absence, disconsolate and wakeful.

It was a night of peaceful calm. As the sturdy rowers urged on their vessel, her bows parted the waters into a thousand phosphorescent ripples, which, widening as the boat moved onward, spread into one broad, flaming wake in their rear.

Fidunia carried with her an ancient gold goblet, wherein the King besought her to place the precious drops, should she succeed in obtaining them. Grasping it tightly in her hand, as if to persuade herself she was not dreaming, she gazed awestruck on the overwhelming beauty of the landscape, arrayed in night's fairest covering.

Already distant, the City of Deva lay white and ghost-like under the moon's pale ray. Here and there a gleam of light showed that there were watchers on land, and from the high turret window of Castle Xylina one ruddy gleam shot a quivering reflection far along the ever-lengthening track of their little craft.

Before them the nearing crags of Spera rose abrupt and beetling towards the sky. The boat moved rapidly along. Now became audible the surging swell and low muffled boom of the ocean, ever chafing, ever restless, even when apparently at peace; and ever repelled by those giant sentinels of the deep. Numbers of sea-birds, disturbed by the unwonted splash of oars, wheeled screaming above their heads, and suddenly brought to Fidunia's mind with agitating distinctness the recollection of her second forest dream.

But all other thoughts were merged in the approaching performance of her self-imposed task. They had gradually rounded the opening to a little bay where the water seemed more shallow, and the sea only broke in tiny wavelets upon a small shelf of pearly white sand. Here Fidunia stepped from the boat. Leaving human companionship behind, she slowly paced along the narrow margin. Finally, following the moon-lit line and heedful of Domenichino's oft-repeated instructions, she disappeared behind the frowning ledge of rock which bounded the narrow inlet.

Only a very few minutes after she had thus gone from their sight, they could hear dimly across the intervening waters, the faint tolling of the midnight bells in the great City. In indescribable anxiety Domenichino, who alone (among these rude boat-men) knew her peril, counted the minutes till Fidunia's return, and resolved that at the expiration of a certain time he would at all risks persist in following the unprotected maiden.

But, ere the appointed period had elapsed, Fidunia, with buoyant steps, turned swiftly the dark boundary and rapidly drew near. High resolve sat upon her brow and stamped her features with a noble ardour. Closely clasped to her bosom she held the precious vase, but to no mortal ear might she unfold the thrilling tale of her solitary experience.

Had she within those mystic precincts heard a warning voice which bade her pause ere she dashed the cup of earthly happiness from her lips? How and where had she obtained the crystal liquid that leapt and sparkled in its golden prison? Had she entered the ice-cold waters and braved the wave-engulfing arms of the merry, malicious mer-men, who warily watch, and at the midnight hour have power to bear to their coral haunts the bold earth-maiden who shall step within their native element?

These, and numberless other questions, crowded into Domenichino's mind as he sped to meet her; but she raised her finger to her lips, and with a mute gesture of entreaty silently took her place in the little vessel. The weather-beaten boatmen shrank back as she passed them by, her hair and garments glistening with a thousand rainbow-coloured drops; yet, as she dreamily took her place in the stern, one, less bashful than his compeers, awkwardly placed his rough coat so as to shelter and keep her warm.

The wind had arisen. It swept moaningly around, hurrying dark clouds across the face of the moon, and presently shrouding her altogether from their sight. But the red tower-light from distant Xylina guided the homeward-bound crew, and ere very long they were safely landed below the slumbering City.