Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf

by George W. M. Reynolds

“Enter there,” said the slave, pushing him gently forward, and speaking in a low tone. “Take off the cap—attire yourself in the raiment you will find ready provided, and then pass fearlessly through the door at the further end of the room. You will meet me again in the hall which you will thus reach.”

And, without waiting for a reply, the slave closed and locked the door through which Alessandro had just passed. Hastily did he remove the cap, which had indeed almost suffocated him; and he now found himself in a small apartment, elegantly furnished in the most luxurious Oriental fashion, and brilliantly lighted. A table spread with confectionery, cakes, fruits, and even wines—though the fermented juice of the grape be expressly forbidden by the laws of the Prophet Mohammed—occupied the center of the room. Around the walls were continuous sofas, or ottomans, so conducive to the enjoyment of a voluptuous indolence; the floor was spread with a carpet so thick that the feet sunk into the silky texture, as into newly fallen snow; and whichever way he turned Alessandro beheld his form reflected in vast mirrors set in magnificent frames. There were no windows on any side of this apartment; but there was a cupola fitted with stained glass on the roof, and Alessandro judged that he was in one of those voluptuous kiosks usually found in the gardens of wealthy Turks.

Precisely as the slave had informed him, he found an elegant suit of Moslem garments set out on the sofa for his use; and he hastened to exchange his Italian costume for the Oriental raiment. As he thus attired himself, it was necessary to contemplate himself in the mirror facing him, so as properly to adjust clothes to which he was totally unaccustomed; and it struck him that the garb of the infidel became him better than that of the Christian. He did not, however, waste time in the details of this strange toilet; but as soon as it was completed he opened the door at the further end of the room, in pursuance of the instructions he had received. Alessandro found himself in a large marble hall, from which several flights of stairs led to the apartments above. The place was refulgent with the light of numerous chandeliers, the glare of which was enhanced by the vast mirrors attached to the walls, and the crystal pillars that supported the roof.

Not a human being met Alessandro’s eyes; and he began to fear either that he had mistaken the directions he had received, or that some treachery was intended, when a door opened, and the female slave, wrapped in a veil, made her appearance. Placing her forefinger upon that part of the veil which covered her lips, to enjoin silence, she led the way up the nearest staircase, Alessandro following with a heart beating audibly. They reached a door at which a negro male slave was stationed.

“The hakim” (physician), said Alessandro’s guide, laconically addressing herself to the negro, who bowed in silence and threw open the door. The female slave conducted the pretended physician into a small but splendidly furnished ante-room, in which there were several other dependents of her own sex. A door at the further end was opened, and Alessandro passed through into another, larger, and still more magnificently furnished room; the door closed behind him, and he found himself alone with the idol of his adoration.

Half seated, half lying upon cushions of scarlet brocade, the glossy bright hue of which was mellowed by the muslin spread over it, appeared the beauteous creature whose image was so faithfully delineated in his memory. She was attired in the graceful and becoming dualma, a purple vest which set close to her form, and with a species of elasticity shaped itself so as to develop every contour.

But in accordance with the custom of the clime and age, the dualma was open at the bosom, sloping from each lovely white shoulder to the waist, where the two folds joining, formed an angle, at which the purple vest was fastened by a diamond worth a monarch’s ransom. The sleeves were wide, but short, scarcely reaching to the elbow, and leaving all the lower part of the snowy arms completely bare. Her ample trousers were of purple silk, covered with the finest muslin, and drawn in tight a little above the ankles, which were naked. On her feet she wore crimson slippers cut very low, and each ornamented with a diamond. Round her person below the waist she wore a magnificent shawl, rolled up, as it were, negligently, so as to form a girdle or zone, and fastened in front with two large tassels of pearls. Diamond bracelets adorned her fair arms; and her head-dress consisted of a turban or shawl of light but rich material, fastened with golden bodkins, the head of each being a pearl of the best water. Beneath this turban, her rich auburn hair, glowing like gold in the light of the perfumed lamps, and amidst the blaze of diamonds which adorned her, was parted in massive bands, sweeping gracefully over her temples and gathered behind the ears, then falling in all the luxuriance of its rich clustering folds over the cushion whereon she reclined. Her finger-nails were slightly tinged with henna, the rosy hue the more effectually setting off the lily whiteness of her delicate hand and full round arm. But no need had she to dye the lashes of her eyes with the famous kohol, so much used by Oriental ladies, for those lashes were by nature formed of the deepest jet—a somewhat unusual but beauteous contrast with the color of her hair. The cheeks of the lovely creature were slightly flushed, or it might have been a reflection of the scarlet brocade of the cushion on which, as we have said, she was half-seated, half-lying, when Alessandro appeared in her presence.

For a few moments the young Italian was so dazzled by her beauty, so bewildered by the appearance of that lady, whose richness of attire seemed to denote the rank of sultana, that he remained rooted to the spot, uncertain whether to advance, to retire, or to fall upon his knees before her. But in an encouraging tone, and in a voice musical as a silver bell, the lady said: “Approach, Christian!” and she pointed to a low ottoman within a few paces of the sofa which she herself occupied. Alessandro now recovered his presence of mind; and no longer embarrassed and awkward, but with graceful ease and yet profound respect, he took the seat indicated.

“Beauteous lady,” he said, “how can I ever demonstrate the gratitude—the illimitable, boundless gratitude which fills my heart, for the joy, the truly elysian delight afforded me by this meeting?”

“You speak our language well, Christian,” observed the lady, smiling faintly at the compliment conveyed by the words of Alessandro, but evading a direct reply.