the sun, our dazzled eyes, though closed, behold it still, so he beheld by day and by night the radiant image of her upon whom he had too rashly gazed. Alas! he was unhappy, for the proud Hermione disdained the love of a poor student, whose only wealth was a magic lamp. In marble halls, and amid the gay crowd that worshipped her, she had almost forgotten that such a being lived as the student Hieronymus. The adoration of his heart had been to her only as the perfume of a wild flower, which she had carelessly crushed with her foot in passing. But he had lost all; for he had lost the quiet of his thoughts, and his agitated soul reflected only broken and distorted images of things. The world laughed at the poor student, who, in his torn and threadbare cassock, dared to lift his eyes to the Lady Hermione; while he sat alone in his desolate chamber, and suffered in silence. He remembered many things which he would fain forget; but which, if he had forgotten them, he would wish again to remember. Such were the linden trees of Bulach, under whose pleasant shade he had told his love to Hermione. This was the scene which he most wished to forget, yet loved most to remember; and of this he was now dreaming, with his hands clasped upon his book, and that kind of music in his thoughts which you, lady, mistook for rhyme. 66 Suddenly the cathedral clock struck twelve with a melancholy clang. It roused the student Hieronymus from his dream; and rang in his ears, like the iron hoofs of the steeds of Time. The magic hour had come, when the divinity of the lamp most willingly revealed herself to her votary. The bronze figures seemed alive; a white cloud rose from the flame and spread itself through the chamber, whose four walls dilated into magnificent cloud vistas; a fragrance, as of wild-flowers, filled the air, and a dreamy music, like distant, sweet-chiming bells, announced the approach of the midnight divinity. Through his streaming tears the heart-broken student beheld her once more descending a pass in the snowy cloud-mountains, as at evening, the dewy Hesperus comes from the bosom of the mist, and assumes his station in the sky. At her approach his spirit grew more calm; for her presence was, to his feverish heart, like a tropical night,-beautiful, and soothing, and invigorating. At length she stood before him revealed in all her beauty, and he comprehended the language of her sweet but silent lips, which seemed to say What would the student Hieronymus tonight?'' Peace!' he answered, raising his clasped hands, and smiling through his tears. 'The student Hieronymus imploreth peace!' 'Then go,' said the spirit, 'go to the Fountain of Oblivion in the deepest solitude of the Black Forest, and cast this scroll into its waters, and thou shalt be at peace once more.' Hieronymus opened his arms to embrace the divinity, for her countenance assumed the features of Hermione ; but she vanished away-the music ceased, the gorgeous cloud-land sank and fell asunder, and the student was alone within the four bare walls of his chamber. he bowed his head downward, his eye fell upon a parchment scroll, which was lying beside the lamp. Upon it was written only the name of Hermione! As "The next morning Hieronymus put the scroll into his bosom, and went his way in search of the Fountain of Oblivion. A few days brought him to the skirts of the Black Forest. He entered, not without a feeling of dread, that land of shadows; and passed onward under melancholy pines and cedars, whose branches grew abroad and mingled together, and, as they swayed up and down, filled the air with solemn twilight and a sound of sorrow. As he advanced into the forest the waving moss hung, like curtains, from the branches overhead, and more and more shut out the light of heaven, and he knew that the Fountain of Oblivion was not far off. Even then the sound of falling waters was mingled with the roar of the pines overhead; and ere long he came to a river, moving in solemn majesty through the forest, and falling with a dull, leaden sound into a motionless and stagnant lake, above which the branches of the forest met and mingled, forming perpetual night. This was the Fountain of Oblivion. 'Upon its brink the student paused, and gazed into the dark waters with a steadfast look. They were limpid waters, dark with shadows only. And as he gazed, he beheld, far down in their silent depths, dim, and ill-defined outlines, wavering to and fro, like the folds of a white garment in the twilight. Then more distinct and permanent shapes arose ;-shapes familiar to his mind, yet forgotten and remembered again, as the fragments of a dream; till at length, far, far below him he beheld the great city of the Past, with silent marble streets, and moss-grown walls, and spires uprising with a wave-like, flickering motion. And amid the crowd that thronged those streets, he beheld faces once familiar and dear to him; and heard sorrowful, sweet voices singing-' Q, forget us not! O, forget us not!' and then the distant mournful sound of funeral bells, that were tolling below, in the city of the Past. But in the gardens of that city there were children playing, and among them one who wore his features as they had been in childhood. He was leading a little girl by the hand, and caressed her often, and adorned her with flowers. Then, like a dream, the scene changed, and the boy had grown older, and stood alone, gazing into the sky; and, as he gazed, his countenance changed again, and Hieronymus beheld him, as if it had been his own image in the clear water; and before him stood a beauteous maiden, whose face was like the face of Hermione, and he feared lest the scroll had fallen into the water, as he bent over it. Starting as from a dream, he put his hand into his bosom and breathed freely again, when he found the scroll still there. He drew it forth and read the blessed name of Hermione, and the city beneath him vanished away, and the air grew fragrant as with the breath of Mayflowers, and a light streamed through the shadowy forest and gleamed upon the lake; and the student Hieronymus pressed the dear name to his lips and exclaimed with streaming eyes-'O, scorn me as thou wilt, still, still will I love thee; and thy name shall irradiate the gloom of my life, and make the waters of Oblivion smile!' And the name was no longer Hermione, but was changed to Mary; and the student Hieronymus-is lying at your feet! O, gentle lady! 'I did hear you talk Far above singing; after you were gone I grew acquainted with my heart, and searched to rest. CHAPTER IX. A TALK ON THE STAIRS. No! I will not describe that scene; nor how pale the stately lady sat on the border of the green, sunny meadow! The hearts of some women tremble like leaves at every breath of love which reaches them, and then are still again. Others, like the ocean, are moved only by the breath of a storm, and not so easily lulled And such was the proud heart of Mary Ashburton. It had remained unmoved by the presence of this stranger, and the sound of his footsteps and his voice excited in it no emotion. He had deceived himself! Silently they walked homeward through the green meadow. The very sunshine was sad, and the rising wind through the old ruin above them sounded in his ears like a hollow laugh! Flemming went straight to his chamber. On the way he passed the walnut trees under which he had first seen the face of Mary Ashburton. Involuntary he closed his eyes. They were full of tears. Oh, there are places in this world which we never wish to see again, however dear they may be to us. The towers of the old Franciscan convent never looked so gloomily as then, though the bright summer sun was shining full upon them. In his chamber he found Berkley. He was looking out of the window whistling. "This evening I leave Interlachen for ever," said Flemming, rather abruptly. |