unusual scene which lay before him. The storm had now passed away, leaving the dark blue sky in unobscured splendour, spangled with millions of glittering stars, which appeared to have derived a brighter lustre, as if burnished by the rolling of the dark clouds, or sparkling in triumph at the rapid flights of their sable adversaries.
A crescent moon threw a silvery light on the topmost boughs of the forest trees, whose giant shadows lay stretched in calm repose across the verdant glade.
At times he could perceive dark figures emerging from the shade, and flitting through the moon-light, again to be lost in the gloom, like uneasy spirits wandering in search of rest; but which he concluded were either parties returning to their tents, or the patrols on duty in the camp.
Thus he stood for some time wrapt in meditation, when suddenly he started at the apparition of a figure which, issuing noiselessly from the obscurity, was within a few paces of him ere it was observed. He instantly recognised Hagar, as she advanced, leaning on her staff, and bearing in her hand a small basket. Her white locks, hanging in disorder over her wrinkled and care-worn brow, caused her to resemble one of the weird sisters bent on midnight evil, rather than a minister of good, hastening to relieve a human being.
The young Pole might be excused if a tinge of superstitious distrust crossed his mind, and he hesitated to commit his wounded friend to the care of so strange a leech; but quickly banishing his doubts, he led the way into the tent. Kneeling by Ivan’s couch the aged Hagar gently withdrew the scarf, which Azila had applied as a bandage, and washing the wound with a decoction of herbs contained in her basket, again swathed it in linen. During the operation, she had continued muttering to herself, regardless whether her patient or his friend were listening, in the following strain:
“Aye, aye, too clearly do I see how it will be, and thus it has ever been! Slight wounds oft pierce far deeper than mortal eyes can see; and young hearts fear not the weapon that destroys them, but bare their bosoms to the stroke! Aye, my child, my loved one! bound nearer to my heart than my own offspring, may thy generous and noble heart have no cause to rue the wound this stranger youth has this day received in thy cause! Would that I could so read thy fate, as to guard thee from evil! Yet when I gaze on the star of thy destiny, my eyes grow dim, my thoughts become confused, and it vanishes from my sight. This stranger – he will be led by a far different path to any that thou canst follow, my child; for in this world justice will never be done thee. He will pursue his course among the high and mighty, and forget the Gipsy maiden. Or if perchance she should recur to his memory, it will be but as a phantom of a waking dream. Alas! far different will it be for her! And thus much can I foresee, that his coming will work danger to my child. Alas! alas! though I see it impending, I know not how to prevent it. Full well I marked the earnest gaze she unthinkingly cast on this gallant youth. In that one look lay concentrated, feelings, deep, subtle, unknown even to herself, for her thoughts were alone of gratitude to her preservers. Though the fate of her I love, the pride of my bosom, and child of my tribe, is hid from my sight, no sooner did the bright stars illumine the Heavens, than I discovered and traced the destined course of this stranger. Like the brilliant meteor which darted across the firmament, unseen by any mortal eye but mine, as I gazed but now above, I read that his course will be rapid and brilliant, but boisterous and marked with blood, yet pure and unsullied by crime, and leading to a high destiny. As I contemplate these features, calm, and composed, I mark that he is incapable of those crimes which debase human nature. Yes, he is worthy of her love. May the mighty spirit who guards our tribe, watch over and protect the preserver of my child.”
When the aged sybil had concluded these obscure predictions, uttered in a low tone of voice, as she performed her task, she poured out a cooling draught, which she tendered to Ivan, who gladly drank it off, and again composed himself to sleep.
Thaddeus had but a short time before thrown himself on his rude couch, and was fast wrapped in slumber, when Hagar took her seat by his friend’s side. Commencing in a low soothing chaunt, she continued singing till she observed that his eyes were closely sealed in slumber.
The words she sang, or rather chaunted, were to the following effect; but being in the Zingani language, which is known to few beyond their own people, it is difficult to render their literal meaning; most of the predictions she uttered whilst dressing Ivan’s wound, were in the same tongue, so that he remained perfectly ignorant of the fate she had prophesied for him.
Spirits, I summon ye;
Spirits of air,
Come round this stranger,
Watch him with care.
Come, come ye misty shapes,
Whence far ye stray,
Shunning the glaring beams
Of the bright day.
Come from dark Egypt’s land,
Spirits who dwell
’Neath the vast pyramids’
Deep hidden cell;
And who were worshipp’d in
Temples of old,
When priests of stern Apis
Men’s fates foretold;
From whence in middle earth
Fearless ye dwell,
Through its fierce fires,
List to my spell.
Come whence the northern blasts
Furious blow,
Fly on your whiten’d wings
From frost and snow.
Ye, who ’neath ocean roam,
Through coral caves,
Or in the sparkling foam,
Sport o’er the waves:
Ye, who on tempests ride,
When the fierce blast,
Driving the hapless bark,
Rives the stout mast:
Ye whose loud shriek is heard
’Mid ocean’s roar,
When the doom’d bark is hurl’d
On the stern shore:
Come, come, attend my will,
I summon all;
Haste through the elements,
Come at my call.
After a profound sleep of some hours, Ivan awoke with parched lips and a feverish thirst, which he sought to allay with more of the same refreshing beverage before presented to him. He begged for it, and on taking the cup, could not help fancying that the hand which offered it, was not that of the aged nurse who had previously tended him.
He spoke, to satisfy his doubts, but receiving no answer, and drowsiness again returning, he turned on his couch to recompose himself to sleep, when by the dim light which now issued from the lamp, he fancied that he saw a light airy figure gliding from the tent. Yet fully aware of his own feverish state, he attributed the idea to a delusion of the brain; nor had he much time to think on the subject ere he again sank into a sound and balmy slumber.
Volume One – Chapter Three
Daylight was streaming brightly through the opening of the tent, when Ivan was awakened by the cheerful voice of his host in conversation with his friend,
