The Bronze Statue, or, The Virgin's Kiss — page 242: what you’re looking at

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

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THE BRONZE STATUE. made her seem the goddess of night | of impassioned enthusiasm, ‘ who should surrounded by a halo of the moon’s sil- | pour forth the most fervent gratitude ver effulgerce, and concentrating in her eyes the glory of the lightning! ‘To her knees descended the crimson petti- coat which displayed all the lower part of the legs, save and except in so much as they were encircled with the various- colored ribands, which rather set off than concealed the robust symmetry of the limbs, and the pure transparent olive of the flesh. Her whole figure hada gentle and only just perceptible undulat- ing motion, as she slowly traversed the apartment, and approached the couch in which Sir Ernest de Colmar raised himself upon his arm to contemplate the romantic being, ignorant whether she were indeed Satanais, or merely a vision come to cheat him with its bliss- ful but delusive presence ! ‘My friend—my champion—my de- liverer, behold me once again!’ spoke that voice whose harmony of golden richness seemed to pour like a flood of beatific ecstacy into the soul of Sir Er- nest de Colmar ; and advancing close up to the side of the couch, she laid her hand upon his own, while her looks were fixed on his countenance with an expression of ineffable tenderness. ‘Is it indeed you, Sutanais? or am I the object of a delicious hallucination ?’ said De Colmar, seizing the hand that was placed in contact with his own, and pressing it to his lips; then still retain- ing it in his fervid grasp, and feeling it warm and trembling, he exclaimed in a paroxysm of transcendent rapture, ‘Oh! yes, it is indeed thou, Satunais—beauti- ful and beloved Satanais! and it is no delusive vision that steals thus myste- riously upon my ravished senses. But how comest thou hither? and where- fore hastthoucome! Is the spell brok- en—that infernal spell which enjoined that I should behold thee no more ?— and wast thou deceived in the expecta- tion that thy destiny impelleu thee back to thy native land in the far-off east?’ ‘The questions which you have put so rapidly, Ernest,’ said the darkly splendid being, ‘remind me that we have much to converse upon ; and I have not yet implored your pardon for thus intruding upon your presence at an hour sO ultimely, and in a manner sv un. seeinly.’ ‘OQ, Satanais ! can you even for a sin- gle moment believe that it is necessary to demand my pardon for thus confer- ring 80 unexpected a boon upon me? *Tis I,’ continued De Colmar, in a tone ‘of the face which looked down upon tur the happiness which your presence infuses into my soul.’ ‘Oh! then,’ cried Satanais, her rich voice swelling like the majestic sympho- ny of a hymn, ‘you entertain towurds me the sume sentiments which you ex- pressed on that night when I visited your chamber at the Golden Falcon?’ und as she thus spoke, her whole coun- tenance lighted up with joy and triumph, and the splendor of her looks became so mysteriously mingled alike with the softness and the fervor of love, that ne- ver hud she exercised so complete an empire and so despotic a power over. the soul of the Austrian warrior. ‘ But do you remember all that you said to me on that memorable night?’ she de- manded, with an abruptness that cut short the response he was about to give; ‘do you recollect that you avowed feel- ings stronger than those of friendship, and sentiments more tender than those of fraternity ?’ ‘Yas; not a word ever breathed by my lips in thine ears, has been forgot- ten by me,’ exclaimed De Colmar: nor do I wish to recall one single syllable of all that [ may have thus said to thee, thou being of matchless beauty and irre- sistible fascinations !’ ‘Then you love me, Ernest?’ she said, after a brief pause, and lowering her voice to a murmur that was soft and musical as a rippling stream— while her looks were fixed with fond intentness upon his countenance. ‘Oh! can you doubt it?—have you ever doubted it ; ’ exclaimed De Colmar completely hurried away by the tide of impassioned feeling, and irresistibly enthralled by the magic influence of that beauty which he contemplated and those looks which poured floods of pas- sion in unto his soul’s profoundest re- cesses. ‘+ No—I do not doubt your love for me, with my dark complexion and my hair black as the wing of night,” was the singular observation which Satanais made in a musing tone, as she stood by ‘the bed with one hand fast locked in ‘both those of De Colmar; then, for nearly a minute did she remain motion- less as a stutue and with her Jooks ab- sorbed in an intent contemplation of the Knight’s handsome countenance. And he gave back that long, profound, ‘impassioned gaze ;—and as his eyes thus embraced all the splendid charms comicbooks.com