Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 20 (12 page)

 
          
“You
have conquered, I am here!”

 
          
A
GROUP OF four, two ladies and two
gentlemen,
leaned or
lounged together in the soft brilliance of mingled moonlight and lamplight,
that filled the luxurious room. Through the open windows came balmy gusts of
ocean air, up from below rose the murmurous plash of waves, breaking on a quiet
shore, and frequent bursts of music lent another charm to place and hour. A
pause in the gay conversation was broken
bv
the younger
lady’s vivacious voice:

 
          
“Now
if the dav of witches and wizards, astrologers and fortunetellers was not over,
how' I should enjoy looking into a magic mirror, having my horoscope east, or
hearing my fate read by a charming black-eyed gipsy.”

 
          
“The
age of enchantment is not yet past, as all who are permitted to enter this
magic circle confess; and one need not go far for ‘a charming black-eyed gipsy’
to decide one’s destiny.”

 
          
And
with a half-serious, half-playful gesture the gentleman offered his hand to the
fair-faced girl, who shook her head and answered, smilingly:

 
          
“No,
I’ll not tell your fortune, Captain Hay; and all your compliments cannot
comfort me for the loss of the delightful
diablerie
I love to read about
and long to experience. Modern gipsies are commonplace. I want a genuine
Cagliostro, supernaturally elegant, gifted and mysterious. I wish the fable of
his eternal youth were true, so that he might visit us, for where would he find
a fitter company? You gentlemen are perfect sceptics, and I am a firm believer,
while Ursula would inspire the dullest wizard, because she looks like one born
to live a romance.”

 
          
She
did indeed. The beautiful woman, sitting where the light showered down upon
her, till every charm seemed doubled. The freshest bloom of early womanhood
glowed in a face both sweet and spirited, eloquent eyes shone lustrous and
large, the lips smiled as if blissful visions fed the fancy, and above the
white forehead dark, abundant hair made a graceful crown for a head which bore itself
with a certain gentle pride, as if the power of beauty, grace and intellect
lent an unconscious queenliness to their possessor. In the personal atmosphere
of strength, brilliancy and tenderness that surrounded her, an acute observer
would detect the presence of a daring spirit, a rich nature, a deep heart; and,
looking closer, might also discover, in the curves of that sensitive mouth, the
depths of those thoughtful eyes, traces of some hidden care, some haunting
memory, or, perhaps, onlv that vague yet melancholy prescience which often
marks those fore-doomed to tragic lives.
As her companions
chatted this fleeting expression touched her face like a passing shadow, and
the gentleman who had not yet spoken leaned nearer, as if eager to catch that
evanescent gloom.
She met his wistful glance with one of perfect
serenity, saying, as an enchanting smile broke over her whole face:

 
          
“Yes,
my life has been a romance thus far; may it have a happy ending. Evan, you were
born in a land of charms and spells, can you not play the part of a Hindoo
conjuror, and satisfy Kate’s longing?”

 
          
“I
can only play the part of a Hindoo devotee, and exhaust myself with strivings
after the unattainable, like this poor little fire- worshipper,” replied the
young man, watching, with suspicious interest, a moth circling round the globe
of light above his head, as if he dared not look at the fair speaker, lest his
traitorous eyes should say too much.

 
          
“You
are both sadly unromantic and ungallant men not to make an effort in our favor,”
exclaimed the lively lady. “1
am
in just the mood for
a ghostly tale, a scene of mystery, a startling revelation, and where shall I
look for an obliging magician to gratify me?”

 
          
“Here!”

 
          
The
voice, though scarcely lifted above a whisper, startled the group as much as if
a spirit spoke, and all eves were turned towards the window, where white
draperies were swaying in the wind. No uncanny apparition appeared behind the
tentlike aperture, but the composed figure of a small, fragile-looking man,
reclining in a lounging-chair. Nothing could have been more unimpressive at
first glance, but at a second the eye was arrested, the attention roused, for
an indefinable influence held one captive against one’s will. Beardless, thin
lipped, sharply featured and colorless as ivory was the face. A few locks of
blonde hair streaked the forehead, and underneath it shone the controlling
feature of this singular countenance. The eyes, that should have been a steely
blue to match the fair surroundings, were of the intensest black, varying in
expression with a startling rapidity, unless mastered by an art stronger than
nature; by turns stealthily soft, keenly piercing, fiercely fiery or utterly
expressionless, these mysterious eyes both attracted and repelled, with a subtle
magnetism which few wills could resist, and which gave to this otherwise
insignificant man a weird charm, which native grace and the possession of rare
accomplishments made alluring, even to those who understood the fateful laws of
temperament and race.

 
          
Languidly
leaning in his luxurious chair, while one pale hand gathered back the curtain
from before him, the new comer eyed the group with a swift glance, which in an
instant had caught the meaning of each face and transferred it to the keeping
of a memory which nothing could escape. Annoyance was the record set down
against Ursula Forrests name; mingled joy and shame against the other lady’s;
for, with the perfect breeding which was one of the man’s chief attractions, he
gave the precedence to women even in this rapid mental process. Aversion was
emphatically marked against Evan Forrest’s
name,
simple amusement fell to his companion’s share. Captain Hay was the first to
break the sudden silence which followed that one softly spoken word:

 
          
“Beg
pardon, but upon my life I forgot you, Stahl. I thought you went half an hour
ago, in your usual noiseless style, for who would dream of your choosing to
lounge in the strong draught of a seabreeze?”

 
          
“It
is I who should beg pardon for forgetting
myself
in
such society, and indulging in the reveries that will come unbidden to such
poor shadows as I.”

 
          
The
voice that answered, though low-toned, was singularly persuasive, and the words
were uttered with an expression more engaging than a smile.

 
          
“Magician,
you bade me look to you. I take you at your word. I dare you to show your
skill, and prove that yours is no empty boast,” said Kate Heath, with evident
satisfaction at the offer and interest in its maker.

 
          
Rising
slowly, Felix Stahl advanced towards her, and, despite his want of stature and
vigor, which are the manliest attributes of manhood, no one felt the lack of
them, because an instantaneous impression of vitality and power was made in
defiance of external seeming. With both hands loosely folded behind him, he paused
before Miss Heath, asking, tranquilly:

 
          
“Which
wish shall I grant? Will you permit me to read your palm? Shall I show you the
image of your lover in yonder glass?
or
shall I
whisper in your ear the most secret hope, fear or regret, which you cherish?
Honor me by choosing, and any one of these feats I will perform.”

 
          
Kate
stole a covert glance at the tall mirror, saw that it reflected no figure but
that of the speaker, and with an irrepressible smile she snatched her eyes
away, content, saying hastily:

 
          
“As
the hardest feat of the three, you shall tell me what I most ardently desire,
if the rest will submit to a like test. Can you read their hearts as well as
mine?”

 
          
His
eye went slowly round the little circle, and from each face the smile faded, as
that searching gaze explored it. Constrained by its fascination, more than by
curiosity or inclination, each person bowed their acquiescence to Kate’s
desire, and as Stahls eye came back to her, he answered briefly, like one well
assured of his own power:

 
          
“I
can read their hearts. Shall I begin with you?”

 
          
For
a moment she fluttered like a bird caught in a fowler’s net, then with an
effort composed both attitude and aspect, and looked up half-proudly,
half-pleadingly, into the colorless countenance that bent till the lips were at
her ear. Only three words, and the observers saw the conscious blood flush
scarlet to her forehead, burning hotter and deeper as eyes fell, lips quivered
and head sank in her hands, leaving a shame-stricken culprit where but an
instant ago a bright, happy-hearted woman sat.

 
          
Before
Ursula could reach her friend, or either gentleman exclaim, Stahl’s uplifted
hand imposed passive silence and obtained it, for already the magnetism of his
presence made itself felt, filling the room with a supernatural atmosphere,
which touched the commonplace with mystery, and woke fantastic fears or fancies
like a spell. Without a look, a word for the weeping girl before him, he turned
sharply round on Evan Forrest, signified by an imperious gesture that he should
bend his tall head nearer, and when he did so, seemed to stab him with a
breath. Pale with indignation and surprise, the young man sprang erect,
demanding in a smothered voice:

 
          
“Who
will prevent me?”

 
          
“I
will.”

 
          
As
the words left Stahl’s lips, Evan stirred as if to take him by the throat, but
that thin, womanish hand closed like a steel spring round his wrist and held
the strong arm powerless, as, with a disdainful smile, and warning “Remember
where vou are!” the other moved on undisturbed. Evan flung himself into a seat,
vainly attempting self-control, while Stahl passed to Captain Hav, w ho sat
regarding him with undisguised interest and amazement, which latter sentiment
reached its climax as the magic whisper came.

 
          
“How
in Heaven’s name did vou know that?” he cried, starting like one stupefied;
then overturning his chair in his haste, he dashed out of the room with every
mark of uncontrollable excitement and alarm.

           
“Dare you let me try my power on
you, Miss Forrest?” asked Stahl, pausing at her side, with the first trace of
emotion visible in his inscrutable face.

 
          
“I
dare everything!” and as she spoke, Ursula’s proud head rose erect, Ursula’s
dauntless eyes looked full
into his own
.

 
          
“In
truth you do dare everything,” he murmured below his breath, with a glance of
passionate admiration. But the soft ardor that made his eyes wonderfully lovely
for an instant flamed as suddenly into a flash of anger, for there was a
perceptible recoil of the white shoulder as his breath touched it in bending,
and when he breathed a single word into her ear, his face wore the stealthy
ferocity of a tiger in the act of springing upon his unsuspecting prey. Had she
been actually confronted with the veritable beast, it could scarcely have
wrought a swifter panic than that one word. Fixed in the same half-shrinking,
half-haughty attitude, she sat as if changed suddenly to stone. Her eyes, dark
and dilated with some unconquerable horror, never left his face while light,
color,
life itself seemed to ebb slowly from her own,
leaving it as beautiful yet wo- ful to look upon as some marble Medusa’s
countenance. So sudden, so entire was the change in that blooming face, that
Kate forgot her own dismay, and cried:

 
          
“Ursula,
what is it?” while Evan, turning on the worker of the miracle, demanded hotly:

 
          
“What
right have
you to terrify women and insult men by
hissing in their ears secret information dishonorably obtained?”

 
          
Neither
question received an answer, for Ursula and Stahl seemed unconscious of any
presence but their own, as each silently regarded the other with a gaze full of
mutual intelligence, yet opposing emotions of triumph and despair. At the sound
of Evan’s voice, a shudder shook Ursula from head to foot, but her eye never
wavered, and the icy fixture of her features remained unchanged as she asked in
a sharp, shrill whisper —