Féraz said nothing, but sat down to the piano, allowing his hands to wander over the keys in a dreamy fashion that sounded like the far-off echo of a rippling mountain stream. El-Râmi waited a moment, listening,—then glanced at his watch—it was growing late.
“Good-night, Féraz;”—he said in gentle accents—“I shall want nothing more this evening. I am going to my work.”
“Good-night,”—answered Féraz with equal gentleness, as he went on playing. His brother opened and closed the door softly;—he was gone.
As soon as he found himself alone, Féraz pressed the pedal of his instrument so that the music pealed through the room in rich salvos of sound—chord after chord rolled grandly forth, and sweet ringing notes came throbbing from under his agile finger-tips, the while he said aloud, with a mingling of triumph and tenderness—
“Forget! I shall never forget! Does one forget the flowers, the birds, the moonlight, the sound of a sweet song? Is the world so fair that I should blot from my mind the fairest thing in it? Not so! My memory may fail me in a thousand things—but let me be tortured, harassed, perplexed with dreams, persuaded by fantasies, I shall never forget the name of——”
He stopped abruptly—a look of pain and terror and effort flashed into his eyes,—his hands fell on the keys of the piano with a discordant jangle,—he stared about him, wondering and afraid.
“The name—the name!” he muttered hoarsely—“A flower’s name—an angel’s name—the sweetest name I ever heard! How is this?—Am I mad that my lips refuse to utter it? The name—the name of ... My God! my God! I have forgotten it!”
And springing from his chair he stood for one instant in mute wrath, incredulity, and bewilderment,—then throwing himself down again, he buried his face in his hands, his whole frame trembling with mingled terror and awe at the mystic power of El-Râmi’s indomitable Will, which had, he knew, forced him to forget what most he desired to remember.
XVII.
Within the chamber of Lilith all was very still. Zaroba sat there, crouched down in what seemed to be her favourite and accustomed corner, busy with the intricate thread-work which she wove with so much celerity;—the lamp burned brightly,—there were odours of frankincense and roses in the air,—and not so much as the sound of a suppressed sigh or soft breath stirred the deep and almost sacred quiet of the room. The tranced Lilith herself, pale but beautiful, lay calm and still as ever among the glistening satin cushions of her costly couch, and, just above her, the purple draperies that covered the walls and ceiling were drawn aside to admit of the opening of a previously-concealed window, through which one or two stars could be seen dimly sparkling in the skies. A white moth, attracted by the light, had flown in by way of this aperture, and was now fluttering heedlessly and aimlessly round the lamp,—but by and by it took a lower and less hazardous course, and finally settled on a shining corner of the cushion that supported Lilith’s head. There the fragile insect rested,—now expanding its velvety white wings, now folding them close and extending its delicate feelers to touch and test the glittering fabric on which it found itself at ease,—but never moving from the spot it had evidently chosen for its night’s repose. Suddenly, and without sound, El-Râmi entered. He advanced close up to the couch, and looked upon the sleeping girl with an eager, almost passionate intentness. His heart beat quickly;—a singular excitement possessed him, and for once he was unable to analyse his own sensations. Closer and closer he bent over Lilith’s exquisite form,—doubtfully and with a certain scorn of himself, he took up a shining tress of her glorious hair and looked at it curiously as though it were something new, strange, or unnatural. The little moth, disturbed, flew off the pillow and fluttered about his head in wild alarm, and El-Râmi watched its reckless flight as it made off towards the fatally-attractive lamp again, with meditative eyes, still mechanically stroking that soft lock of Lilith’s hair which he held between his fingers.