CHAPTER XI.
NISIDA AND WAGNER—FRANCISCO AND FLORA—THE APPROACH OF SUNSET.
Upward of two months had passed away since the occurrences related in the preceding chapter, and it was now the 31st of January, 1521.
The sun was verging toward the western hemisphere, but the rapid flight of the hours was unnoticed by Nisida and Fernand Wagner, as they were seated together in one of the splendid saloons of the Riverola mansion.
Their looks were fixed on each other’s countenance; the eyes of Fernand expressing tenderness and admiration, those of Nisida beaming with all the passions of her ardent and sensual soul.
Suddenly the lady raised her hands, and by the rapid play of the fingers, asked, “Fernand, do you indeed love me as much as you would have me believe I am beloved?”
“Never in this world was woman so loved as you,” he replied, by the aid of the same language.
“And yet I am an unfortunate being—deprived of those qualities which give the greatest charm to the companionship of those who love.”
“But you are eminently beautiful, my Nisida; and I can fancy how sweet, how rich-toned would be your voice, could your lips frame the words, ‘I love thee!’”
A profound sigh agitated the breast of the lady; and at the same time her lips quivered strangely, as if she were essaying to speak.
Wagner caught her to his breast; and she wept long and plenteously. Those tears relieved her; and she returned his warm, impassioned kisses with an ardor that convinced him how dear he had become to that afflicted, but transcendently beautiful being. On her side, the blood in her veins appeared to circulate like molten lead; and her face, her neck, her bosom were suffused with burning blushes.