The Bronze Statue, or, The Virgin's Kiss — page 322: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘* bed Fh, 7 320 THE BRONZE STATUE. he sped hastily to the door of the tur- ret-chamber occupied by Satanais. For he had not closed his eyes in slumber throughout the night: but, like the restless ghost of some murdered victim, had he w ande red about the ruins and along the river’s bank, a prey to all the varied reflections which the inci- dents of the previous evening were only so well calculated to engender. And now that the long weary hours had | passed, and that the moment was come you have passed a night haunted by the most melancholy reflections!’ she ex claimed, her voice rising with the an- guish that thrilled through it. ‘Yes, Satanais, I have indeed passed a wretched night,’ said De Colmar, seating himself by the side of the couch, and pressing the dark houri’s hand for a moment in his own—but only for a /moment. ‘’I’hink, you that I have not enough to afflict me? The fond hopes which I had entertained respecting when he could without impropriety in-| yourself, are all blasted like flowers trude upon the privacy of Satanais, his | anxiety to obtain the elucidation of the | mysteries which bewildered him, had grown to the excitement of a burning | fever of the brain. For afew moments did he pause at the door ere he knocked, in order to certify to all his wildly beating pulses that he was the master of his thoughts and his actions—that he was laboring under no delusion in respect to all the strange things that now sprang up in his imagination, and that he was really awake and possessed of full conscious- ness, and was not walking under the in- fluence of a horrible dream. Yes, he paused a few moments, for although every nerve and every fibre thrilled with impatience to receive an explanation of all that so nearly concern- ed him, yet did every limb tremble with a vague apprehension and an unknown terror, as he found himself upon the point of having his ardent curiosity tified. At length, composing his countenance and his thoughts as well as he was able, the knight knocked at the door, which was immediately opened, and the two handmaidens came forth. They be- stowed a respectful salutation upon Sir Ernest de Colmar, as they passed out of the turret-chamber; and he imme- diately observed-that their countenances expressed a deep melancholy, and that their eyes were inflamed with weeping. But he had no opportunity to question them relative to the cause of their grief, for as the door was opened to afford them egress, the glance which he dart- ed from their countenances to the inte- rior of the cell, showed him Satanais reclining upon the outside of the couch. He accordingly entered the chamber, closing the door behind him. ‘You are come, Ernest, for our last interview,’ said the Daughter of Satan, in a tone that was scar cely audible.— But, alas! your looks are wild and hag- gard—your countenance is pale oh ora- whereon the pestilence has breathed: I dare not, cannot, must not make you mine, and yet I love you as fervently As ‘ever. Nor would I have again trusted a Re eae rr myself within the magic influence of your charms, had not a deeper feeling than mere idle curlosity prompted me to receive the promised explanations ‘from your lips. For at present, al- though I have learnt many wild and singular truths, there are mysteries still more numerous and more = strange which you must clear up tome. The colored and highly -wrought version which you gave of the history that Ber- nard placed in its proper light, and di- vested of its oriental complexion and its supernatural texture,—that history, I say, which you thus tortured and ex- aggerated to suit your own mysterious purposes, to a certain extent linked my destiny with thine. At all events, I be- came your champion in a combat, the aim and object of which are now utter- ly incomprehensible to me; and I burn to hear the name of the man who de- feated me upon that occasion, and who imposed upon me conditions which I am at a loss to understand. MHasten, then, Satanais—hasten, [ conjure you, and relieve me from the most cruel sus- pense !’ ‘ You spoke, Ernest, of having pass- ed a wretched night,’ said the Daughter of Satan, her voice again sounding low and plaintive, ‘ but the long hours were not more wearisome nor more fraught with bitter reflections for you than they were for me. And the fever of excite- ment caused my wound to bleed again,’ she continued, glancing towards her bandaged arms; ‘and I am weak and feeble with the loss of blood. ‘Then, again, my handmaidens saw that [ was unhappy; and I was compelled to re- veal to those faithful girls enough to make them aware that circumstances would cause an eternal separation be- tween you and me. Oh! altogether, I have indeed passed a terrible night comicbooks.com