After an interval, of what duration she knew not, she had revived to see faces bending over her—Lamara, Aunion, Zarga, Argon; Zarga wringing her hands distressfully and speaking volubly; the others compassionate and sympathetic. What had happened?—some inadvertent transgression, some catastrophe; Torpeon’s Mark! She had put her fingers to her forehead and felt the circle there. “It is not irreparable—it will pass away!” she heard Lamara say, in her gentle, reassuring tones.
After that a kaleidoscope of minor occurrences, ending with news of Jack’s arrival, and his expected appearance at the palace. She was awaiting the moment of meeting; Zarga had entered. “He is here; come!” She had joyfully started up and had taken a step forward, when all at once blankness had closed around her, and her next consciousness had been of this wakening in the island pavilion. What had intervened? And Jack—where was he? She sat up and looked about her.
From her present position she could see the fountain in the court, the singular movements of which concentrated her attention.
The clear waters were molding themselves into the likeness of two human figures, which appeared as if locked in a desperate struggle. They might have been carved by a master-hand out of pure crystal, except for the constant and lifelike contortions and writhings that they exhibited. At first she had no thought of recognizing in these effigies any resemblance to persons she had seen before; but as the struggle continued a suggestion—a persuasion—possessed her mind that she knew them—they represented Jack and that shaggy giant who had confronted her out of the planetary mirror! They were engaged in a life-and-death battle; and it seemed that the giant was gaining the advantage.
No sooner had this impression become fixed than the two figures dissolved into the natural flow of the fountain, which, for a time, appeared no otherwise than an ordinary water-jet. But ere long it began to assume another form, this time of a woman—a young girl, of lightsome and graceful form who, with arms outthrown and floating hair, seemed to be dancing joyously toward her. Surely this apparition too was familiar! It could be no other than her friend Zarga!
What caused these moldings and transformations, Miriam, of course, could not conjecture, though she knew something of Saturnian powers; but the second presentation relieved her somewhat of the forebodings stirred by the first. She had never been made aware of any reason for distrusting Zarga—quite the reverse; and it seemed probable that if these watery creations bore any relation to real persons and event, Zarga’s lighthearted mood portended some beneficent sequel to the menace of the first scene.
But, on the other hand, perhaps her imagination had altogether beguiled her! And now the fountain relapsed once more into formlessness.
A snatch of song echoed through the court, and Miriam turned to see Zarga herself come tripping airily into view.
“Come, come, come!” she sang; “all is ready, and I am sent to fetch you! The boat is prepared; Jack is waiting for you to get aboard; the others are assembled to bid you farewell. So fair a day might not come again in a lifetime! But we must make haste! Come, come!”
Miriam had involuntarily risen, and Zarga, taking her by the hand, was drawing her toward the door of the pavilion. “We must make haste!” she repeated.