At one time she walked amid beautiful gardens—on either side of her bloomed a rich profusion of lovely fragrant flowers. Within each sweet floweret lurked a tiny elf, and as she passed along, fairies swung themselves forth singing through the perfume laden air in soft musical tones, "King Antiphates is blind! King Antiphates is blind! and the maid who alone can deliver him knows not her mission!"
At another time she climbed painfully along a steep path, leading through scenes perfectly unknown to her. The hot sun beat on her bare head, and she toiled on and on, ever ascending, yet never reaching the craggy summit towering far above. Beneath her feet, an unfathomable ocean surged and swelled, and broke in hoarse grumblings upon the frowning iron-bound shore, sending vast sheets of spray aloft, and awakening strange terrors in the woodland maiden's breast. White screaming sea-birds dashed around her, and as they brushed her face with their wings, she heard them cry wildly, "The great king is blind, only Fidunia can deliver him—but she knows it not! she knows it not!"
Again the little maiden found herself upon a lonely terrible mountain. She stood upon dismal rocks whereon appeared no vestige of life. Tossed and wreathed in fantastic shapes, the very stones seemed to bear the impress of writhing agony. Though now cold and motionless, they had passed through the seething horrors of fire. Scathed and withered, repulsive alike to man, beast and herb, amid their desolate clefts, only the slimy reptile traced his sinuous course; or the bright-eyed lizard peered warily forth on the shuddering beholder. Turning to escape, if possible, from this dreary place, Fidunia found herself on the very verge of a huge chasm. She felt a burning heat scorch her face, and penetrate her feet. Long tongues of horrid flame darted in lurid flashes from the thick darkness below. A sulphurous vapour enveloped her in its hot and suffocating fumes. She endeavoured to cry for help, but could not utter a sound—an echo like the reverberating growl of distant thunder filled the air around her with these words, "He will never see now, for the maiden dreams away her life in the forest, and knows not that she alone can save him."
FIDO AND FIDUNIA.
P. 123.
From this last and most frightful of all her visions, Fidunia woke agitated and confused. Why were words of the same import evermore repeated in her slumbers? Whence came these awful voices that sounded through the gloom of night? Who was the Antiphates whose misfortune was known, as it seemed, to all the world save herself? It was early morning as she sat up and pondered over these things. Her feverish heart was refreshed by the dewy silence around. Only through the trees came the faint twitter of half awakened birds. The sky, brightening towards the East, heralded the approach of sunrise.
Her resolve was taken. She would set off that very day and journey forth into the unknown world which hitherto she had only visited in dreams. She awoke Fido therefore, and explained to him despite his melancholy dissuading looks, that they must leave the fountain, the lawn, and the tree, and travel far beyond the forest to seek their fortunes among the children of men.
Clapping her hands together, she summoned her faithful forest friends, who sorrowfully accompanied their beloved mistress and her companion as far as their strength would permit, then bade them a melancholy farewell.
Quite overcome by losing sight (perchance for ever) of her sylvan home and her attached little subjects, Fidunia that night sobbed herself to sleep, with Fido in her arms, and half regretted her determination. But in her dreams angels hovered over her, and whispered encouragement to the weary sad-hearted maiden.
For several days more the adventurers journeyed through the dense wood. At night they found shelter in some leaf-strewn cave or upon some mossy bank, beneath over-arching trees. Then the innocent pair, under the protection of heaven, slumbered until day's reviving beams once more cheered them on their way.