The Bronze Statue, or, The Virgin's Kiss — page 319: what you’re looking at

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

THE BRONZE STATUE. are aware that there are secrets which I may have discovered within the last few hours, and from the lips of an indi- vidual whom you have this day seen amongst the ruins of Ildegardo Castle ?” ‘] am aware that the venerable Ber- nard has a tale to tell,’ replied Satanias, her bosom heaving convulsively and her voice almost lost in suffocating sobs :— ‘and I perceive by your words, your looks, and your manner, that he has not failed to breathe it to your ears. But tell me,’ she exclaimed, in a sudden pa- roxysm of wild and almost delirious ve- hemence—‘ tell me whether I am to 317 hopes, all the indescribable grief of a blasted ambition, all the poignant woe, the burning shame, and the withering affliction of a heart baffled, crushed, and rent by the ruin of its brilliant visions and its exalted aspirations. Then to the warrior’s soul was car- ried the conviction that Satanais really loved him, fondly, truly, and unfeigned- ly loved him, as much for himself alone as for any knowledge which she might secretly possess of his power to place her in a proud position and on a lofty elevation. He endeavored to speak, to give ut- consider that everything is at an end} terance to words of solace and reassu- between you and me?’ rance : but his lips quivered vainly, his And, rising to a sitting posture upon | voice remained in his throat, with a sti- the couch, she fixed on hima gaze so| fling sensation, as if kept down and intense and so full of impassioned in- quiry, that: it seemed as if she were a criminal conscious that her life depend- | ed upon the reply of a judge to whom she was appealing. ‘Satanias,’ said the knight, in a low deep tone, ‘ you have put to me a ques- tion which I cannot immediately an- swer. And yet that answer should be found in your own conscience: for | am a man too profoundly wedded to principles of justice, to condemn any one without a fair and impartial hear- ing; and moreover, you know that I have entertained for you a love which will neither permit me to sacrifice my own happiness nor trifle with yours, un- less the force of circumstances should prove invincible. Within the last three hours | have heard strange and won- drous things, a narrative which has en- gendered the cruellest doubts and the most poignant suspicions in my mind; and I fear, alas! I fear, that you cannot possibly afford a satisfactory explana- tion.’ | ‘Then everything is indeed at an end between us!’ exclaimed Satanais; and, falling back upon the couch, she covered her face with her hands. But during the brief interval of a mo- ment which elapsed between the utter- ance of those despairing words and this concealment of her countenance, De Colmar caught the thousand different expressions which swept, like the my- riad shadows of a flight of birds over a sunny field, across the face that was al- most at the same instant hidden from his view by the exquisitely modelled hands. And in that transitory moment he read all the anguished disappoint- ment of a blighted love, all the misery attendant upon the wreck of the fondest crushed by an irresistible weight; and although he longed, oh! he Jonged to snatch the houri to his breast and pro- claim forgiveness for the past and love for evermore, yet a power superior to his own seemed to hold him enchained with a paralysing influence and place a seal upon his lips! There was an interval of many mi- nutes’ silence in that turret chamber— broken only by the long and difficult breathing of ayes as she lay upon the couch with her face still covered by her hands. She did not sob, she did not moan, she did not give vent to mur- muring lamentations: but, a prey toa sombre, blank, and numbing despair, sue remained motionless in all save that lengthened and painful respiration, and the slow heaving and sinking of her bo- som. Upon the snowy white coverlid did her splendid form display itself in all the richness of its contours, in all its sweep- ing length of limb, in all the plentituce of its perfection, its voluptuousness, and its grace; and yet, whenever De Col mar was about to yield to the boundless pity and the ardent love which he expe- rienced for that being of wondrous beauty, whenever he was on.the point of stretching forth his arms and tearing her as it were from the cold tomb of despair to receive new life and awake to resuscitated happiness in the foster- ing warmth of his embrace—then, at that moment did some suddea idea seem to flame up in his mind, warning him of the danger attendant upon a proceed- ing so infatuated and so insane! 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