thought that the fall had disordered his brain, or that he was asleep. But no! Everything was distinct; and a pinch assured him that if his mind was asleep his legs certainly were wide enough awake.
|
Before Castillon had fully recovered from his fright, this new born "daughter of a race divine" addressed him in soft, melodious music:
|
"Amidst the horses of heaven and the blooming realms of everlasting light," said she, "I once roamed free and happy. I was commissioned to guard this country, the Garden of Eden, but which now the hand of man has so scourged and ravaged. You know the story well; I did but leave Adam for a second, he could not resist temptation, he fell, gave up immortality for knowledge. He suffered for it, so do I. Within this tree, the tree of knowledge, am I forever confined, until I shall be rescued by a descendant of Adam. You have eaten of this fruit. To you, now the mysterious language of nature is revealed; the mists that cloud the past and the future are blown away. On you is imposed the task of rescuing us; do you consent?"
|
So sweet the accent, so fair the face that Castillon, whose blood old age had not yet cooled, forgetting alike fear and superstition, sprang from his mossy couch and swore by his life, his honor and his soul that he would rescue them.
|
After lying there, half stunned, for several days, protected by their Briarean arms from the storm, Castillon recovered sufficiently to come to the city. He daily resorted to these trees, and, seated in the branches of one of them, like a St. Simon Stylites, seemed to be ever meditating some great problem. His visits to the grove became daily more frequent, and finally he entirely deserted his little hut in the city, and built him an eyrie in the tallest of the trees; never after this did he set foot within the walls.
|
This, with the sudden change in Castillon's disposition, greatly excited all the gossips of the town. He, who had never
|
|
