Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf

by George W. M. Reynolds

But though sensual and impassioned feelings led the beauteous Nisida thus frequently to melt into softness and tenderness when she contemplated the wondrously handsome countenance of Fernand, yet from this day forth her longing to return to Italy became more earnest—more irresistible; and she would compel him to sit by her side for hours together on the shore, while she eagerly watched for the appearance of a sail in the horizon. And Fernand, who divined her object, himself now longed for the advent of a ship;—so sincere was his love for Nisida that he was ready to make any sacrifice in order to promote her happiness. Thus passed away the sixth month; and on the afternoon of the last day thereof, when Wagner was about to observe to her that the time had now arrived for him to pass the mountains once again, she said of her own accord, “Fernand, my beloved, when next you visit the other side of the island, you would do well to raise some sign, or leave some permanent mark to show that there are inhabitants on this island. For a ship might touch at that point—the sailors might seek the shore for water, and they would then search to discover where those who raised the signal-post are dwelling.”

“Your wish shall be fulfilled, dearest,” answered Wagner; “and without delay will I seek the other side of the island.”

They then embraced tenderly, and Fernand departed, once more to fulfill his frightful doom! Nisida watched his receding form until it was lost in the groves intervening between the plains and the acclivities of the range of mountains; and then she seated herself again on the sand, wondering of what nature her husband’s secret could be, and why it compelled him to absent himself occasionally from her. Though he kept an accurate calculation of the lapse of time, and counted the passing days with unvarying precision, yet she retained no such faithful calendar in her memory, and had not observed that his absence always occurred on the last day of the month.

The hour of sunset was now rapidly approaching, and as Nisida was wrapped in thought, but with her eyes fixed wistfully upon the mighty bosom of the deep, a slight sound as of the rustling of garments fell upon her ears. She started up and glanced suddenly around. But how ineffable was her astonishment—how great was her sudden joy, when she beheld the figure of a man approaching her; for it instantly struck her that the same ship which had conveyed him thither might bear her away from a scene which had latterly become insupportably monotonous.

The individual whose presence thus excited her astonishment and her delight, was tall, thin, and attired rather in the German than in the Italian fashion: but, as he drew nearer, Nisida experienced indefinable emotions of alarm, and vague fears rushed to her soul—for the expression of that being’s countenance was such as to inspire no pleasurable emotions. It was not that he was ugly;—no—his features were well formed, and his eyes were of dazzling brilliancy. But their glances were penetrating and reptile-like,—glances beneath which those of ordinary mortals would have quailed; and his countenance was stamped with a mingled sardonism and melancholy which rendered it painful to contemplate.

Nisida attributed her feeling of uneasiness and embarrassment to the shame which she experienced at finding herself half-naked in the presence of a stranger, for so oppressive bad become the heat of the summer, that her clothing was most scanty, and she had long ceased to decorate her person with garlands and wreaths of fantastically woven flowers.

“Fear not, lady,” said the demon, for he indeed it was; “I am come to counsel and solace, not to alarm thee.”

“How knowest thou that I require counsel? and who art thou that talkest to me of solace?” asked Nisida, her sentiment of shame yielding to one of boundless surprise at hearing herself thus addressed by a being who appeared to read the very inmost secrets of her soul.

“I am one who can penetrate into all the mysteries of the human heart,” returned the fiend, in his sonorous, deep-toned voice; “and I can gather thy history from the expression of thy countenance, the attitude in which I first beheld thee, while thou wast still seated upon the strand, and the mingled emotions of surprise and joy with which thou didst mark my presence. Is it, then, difficult to imagine that thou requirest counsel to teach thee how to proceed so as to obtain thine emancipation from this isle? or would it be extraordinary if, moved by thy sorrow, I offered to befriend thee? And is it not ever the way with mortals—poor, weak, miserable beings that they are—to grow speedily dissatisfied with their lot? In the spirit of religion ye say that Heaven controls your destinies according to its own wise purposes; and when all goes well with ye, and you have your desires, ye pray and are thankful, because, forsooth,” added the demon, with a smile of bitter scorn, “it is so easy to pray when ye are contented and happy, and so easy to be thankful when ye are pampered with all ye require. Here art thou, lady, on an island teeming with all the choicest fruits of the earth, and enjoying an eternal summer, where all is pleasant to the view, and to whose silent shores the cares of the great world cannot come; and yet thou wouldst quit this calm retreat, and rush back into the vortex of evil passions, warring interests, conflicting pursuits! But I will not weary thee with my reflections; although it is my nature first to upbraid and taunt those whom I intend to serve!”

“And who art thou, strange being, that reasoneth morally with the smile of scorn upon thy lips?” demanded Nisida, the vague alarms which had previously influenced her reviving with additional power; “who art thou, I say, that comest to reproach, and yet profferest thine aid?”