a step forward.
Suddenly a wave of fear crept over me like the flow of icy water. Would the living marble, as it warmed to life, moved by some long pent-up passions, raise its hand and strike me dead?
Gathering myself together, I glanced toward a group of maidens at play beneath the shade of a leafy roof of arched branches and interlacing vines.
Quicker than it takes to tell it, I sprang forward and fixed my gaze upon their faces.
Death could not hold the human form in attitude more motionless than theirs.
And yet their eyes were filled with strange light.
Upon their fair faces the red tint of life glowed, bright and warm!
Where was I?
A strange feeling of half dread, half delight, now swept over me.
And still I dared not speak. My voice will break the spell by which all these breathing children of earth’s flinty breast keep their hold on life, and they will fade away to nothingness.
And now the eyes of her nearest me—of deeper black than polished coal, appeared bent full upon me. I could see, I thought, the glisten of those ebon orbs, as if a tear had broken over them.
Her hand was outstretched.
What if I touch it, thought I, to see if it have the warmth of life within it, or whether it be not in truth a thing of stone, and I the sport of some mischievous spirit of the island?
I’ll do it, if I’m slain like a poor worm, which, warmed by an approaching flame crawls to meet it.
I touched its finger-tips!
O, wondrous thing!
They were not of stone, but of softest, warmest flesh!
I staggered back, expecting to see the group vanish in thin air.
But no; it moved not.
It stood as motionless as before!
And now I felt my limbs grow strong beneath me.
I determined to speak, come evil or come good!
Fixing my gaze upon their fair young faces, I uncovered and addressed them thus:
“O, strange and mysterious beings, resent not this bold intrusion of a puny mortal upon your sacred repose! Speak to me! If ye so will, let me take my feet off the soil of your fair island. But ere I go, speak to me, let me know whether ye be not the creations of some spirit of this isle, or whether ye are really living, breathing beings!”
No sound issued from those rosy lips, parted as if in the very act of speaking.
No movement, no tremor, came to break the marble-like pose of these fair figures.
A whole minute elapsed.
To me it seemed an eternity.
I stood riveted to the ground in most anxious suspense.
The minutes dragged their heavy bodies along one after another.
But joy unutterable!
Their lips begin to move.
A smile, almost imperceptible at first, spreads slowly, slowly, over their faces.
The crimson of their cheeks takes on a deeper hue.
Their eyes bend a most sweet and friendly look upon me.
The word “we” falls gently on my ear.
Another pause!
I lean forward, in most painful suspense, to catch the next faint syllable.
It came at last.
“Live!”
“They live!” I cried in a loud and joyous voice, “they live! I am not the sport of any strange divinity. These figures are not cold and senseless marble, but warm-blooded, breathing, thinking, living beings!”
I cannot tell you the depth of my satisfaction that this discovery was made by my loved Bulger. He saw the terrible perplexity which had come upon his master, and hastened to his rescue; not frowning face, not threatening voice was sufficient to turn him from his purpose of letting light in upon my darkened mind. In my deep contrition, I could scarcely bring myself to speak his name.
I felt how unworthy of his love I was.
But he pardoned me with a nobility of character more than human and spake his forgiveness by covering my hands with caresses and uttering a series of soft low barks.
With Bulger by my side, I now mingled with these flesh and blood companions of the island’s marble dwellers, passing from one group to another in speechless wonderment. Ay, in good faith they were alive, but not more so than the flowers, the shrubs, the trees, the vines which helped to make up the lovely scene of which they were the brightest and fairest ornaments.
The vines moved from place to place more rapidly than they, the flowers oped their buds more quickly than the maidens did their lips. Like beautiful figures of wax, moved by the slow uncoiling of some hidden spring, these living statues passed hours, nay days, in rising to their feet or sinking down upon the velvety greensward.
For several hours I stood watching the white hand of a maiden as it reached forward, with imperceptible motion to pluck a red-cheeked peach which hung beside her. A full hour went by ere those delicate fingers were clasped around the peach, another ere it had been carried to her lips. There, all day long, she held it pressed, but as the sun went down behind the wooded hills, it fell from her loosened grasp and rolled towards my feet. I slowly stooped, for I was not long in discovering that my quick movements pained these animated statues, and picked it up. I could feel that some of the pulp had been drawn from the luscious fruit, but the skin was hardly broken, so gently had she fed upon it.
At this moment, seeing a smile upon the face of one of the maiden’s I turned to find upon whom she bent her gaze.
It was a handsome youth, who stood, perhaps fifty feet distant, with his eyes fixed beamingly upon the maiden’s.
“Surely” thought I, “affection will, as in other lands, quicken their movements; they will advance toward each other somewhat rapidly now.”
But no, the long twilight yielded little by little to the deeper shadows; night came; the moon set her glowing disc in the heavens, and yet that youth was not near enough to clasp the hand of the maiden he loved.
From the first coming of the twilight, smiles had been slowly gathering upon the faces of the other youths and maidens, whose eyes were turned upon the lovers.
At this moment a gentle “ha!” fell upon my ear, and, after the lapse of half an hour, another and louder “ha!” followed it, to be, after a still longer pause, followed by still another “ha!” This last “ha!” was lengthened out into a clear and ringing note which lasted several seconds. Then it grew fainter and fainter, and died away like a spent echo. Their mirth was over.
