CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE REVEL.
As Corianton and Joan approached the house, lively strains of music floated out upon the evening air, and lights gleamed from all the windows; now sounds of revelry could be heard—the merry laugh, and flying feet. In the hall they were met by Seantum. "Returned home at last, Corianton, eh?" he said with blustering familiarity, "what, and with Joan, too!"
"Yes, kinsman; I found our prophet as he was entering the grounds, and have detained him long enough to deliver my message."
"Quite right, too, quite right; if you have anything to do, do it, and do it at once, say I. But come, sir, some young people have gathered here, to make merry the night, recreation will do you good, sir; youth was made for enjoyment, sir, and youth cheats itself if it make not good use of its time."
"Oh, kinsman, you forget!" said Joan. "This man, though he hath not a gray beard, or a stooped back—and though he hath no staff, yet is he a holy man! and will account the youthful revels you commend, as sinful. Alas," said she, with charming mock solemnity,—"alas, that youth should so soon wed itself to the vocation of the aged! Besides, I warrant me, he will tell thee he must first counsel with his fellow-prophets, before he can stir in what you would have him enjoy. So pray forbear, tempt not the holy prophet!" And with this tantalizing witchery she left him.
Seantum laughed heartily at the evident discomfiture of Corianton. "By my life, sir, she hath hit you as hard with her sarcasm of your solemnities, as your ridicule hits the weakness of our Zoramite faith; but come, sir, come, you must rally, you must let her see that you have spirit—which I know you have—go in, sir," lowering his voice, "it shall not harm your reputation; go in, you shall find beauty, gaiety, pleasure and secrecy beneath my roof—go in, sir; youth was made for pleasure!"
His pride, wounded by the light sarcasm of Joan, and, influenced, it must also be confessed, by the cajolery of Seantum, Corianton permitted himself to be led down the hall into a spacious saloon, brilliantly lighted by cressets, and at one end of which, on a platform, was arranged a banqueting table, ladened profusely with all the delicacies of the tropics—a rich variety of meats, fruits and wines, of which all were free to partake at pleasure. The ceiling and wall of the saloon were frescoed with voluptuous figures or grim monsters, half animal, half human—with here and there indications that some knowledge of the old mythologies was still retained; the windows were draped with curtains of rich stuffs, variously colored; their ample folds gently stirred by the soft breeze which stole into the room, filling it with the rich perfumes of the garden. The floor was variegated Mosaic work, smooth as polished ivory, covered at the sides and ends by soft carpeting.
As Corianton and Seantum entered the saloon, a pretty dark-eyed girl was executing a sort of fandango to the evident delight of a number of young men sitting or lounging promiscuously about the room. At the conclusion of the dance the girl was greeted warmly with a round of applause. Then there was quiet, broken occasionally by light ripples of laughter, the hum of confused conversation, or occasional commands to the slaves to serve fruits or wines. There were whispered nothings, tender caresses, and loose jests. Groups of women of all degrees of beauty were reclining on divans or cushions, half concealed by the rich foliage of gigantic plants in great vases; and sometimes in recesses nearly shut out from the main body of the saloon by closely drawn curtains.
The entrance of Seantum and Corianton had attracted no attention; but as the tall, graceful Nephite passed the various groups, the girls broke out in exclamations of admiration—"how handsome!" "how young!" "what fine eyes!—and what a form!" "who is he?" "a stranger—a Nephite." All this agitated Corianton, and rendered him uneasy. Arriving at the head of the saloon, he was introduced to a group of young men about his own age.
"This is my Nephite prophet of whom you have heard me speak," said Seantum, "receive him as my honored guest and friend." At this Corianton was warmly saluted, and called upon to pledge the acquaintance in wine. There was no retreating now, nor could there be any refusal.
"Though our new friend is a Nephite," said Seantum, after the pledge of friendship had been drunk, "and reared under traditions which we have forsaken, religious differences, arising solely from training in childhood, should make no difference in social life." "No, no," broke in several voices. "Let us bury thoughts of all such differences in another bowl of wine," said a youth of Lamanitish appearance, and already under the influence of the beverage he now called for.
At that moment in the lower part of the saloon some one was greeted by hearty applause; looking in that direction Joan was seen advancing clad in loose, fleecy garments; she held in her hand a long strip of crimson gauze, and as she reached the middle of the saloon she shook out its folds and began a dance of exquisite grace.
What mischief hath not been worked by the witching grace exhibited by beautiful women in the dance! The elegance and harmony of motion, the poetry of movement, gives a lustre to beauty and influences the senses through the imagination. 'Twas the dancing of the fair daughter of Jared which drove Akish of old to pledge himself to murder King Omer among the Jaredites; and men hereafter shall promise with an oath anything to the half of a kingdom, to some fair one for dancing before them.
Never had Corianton seen such a combination of motion and beauty as that now before him. The slight willowy form of Joan swaying with easy grace, the poise of the head, the movement of the arms, all in perfect harmony with the rest of her actions. Frequently the company applauded her, but now evidently the dance is drawing to a close, concluding with rapid whirling round the entire saloon. As she passed near Corianton she suddenly threw her gauze scarf over his head, as a challenge for him to join her in the finale; and he, forgetful of all but her loveliness and bewitching grace, caught her hand, holding the tips of her fingers, and accompanied her in that whirling circuit. He had evidently acquitted himself well, for he shared in the applause which greeted her, and the compliments that followed.
"Ah, my friend, I scarcely thought a prophet could do so well," she whispered, in her taunting manner; but seeing that he turned pale at her remark, and that a pained expression also passed over his features, she quickly added "you did well, I am proud of you, and you must be my companion for the night;" and her hand once more stole within his arm.
The revels were continued through the night, wine flowed as freely as water, and long before the gray dawn began to break in the east, many had sunk down in a helpless, drunken sleep. Corianton also was intoxicated, but not so much with wine as with the beauty and chic of Joan. When she left him, as she did soon after midnight, he began to realize the situation into which his half thoughtless indiscretion had plunged him, and he knew not how he would well answer his brethren for his conduct. Though he had drunk but little wine, not being accustomed to it his brain was on fire, and a mad spirit of recklessness seized him. Passing a group of young fellows in an advanced stage of intoxication in one of the recesses of the saloon, he was hailed by them, and congratulated upon his conquest of the fairest lady in all their land. He joined them in their praises of her beauty and in their revel. What he did, what was done he knew not, his brain was confused—he had an indistinct recollection of boisterous, frenzied jollity, then high words, a quarrel, but not the reason of it, and then all was darkness, oblivion.