“But Immalee did not occupy this interval solely in reflection; a new
anxiety began to agitate her; and in the intervals of her meditation and
her tears, she searched with avidity for the most glowing and
fantastically wreathed shells to deck her arms and hair with. She
changed her drapery of flowers every day, and never thought them fresh
after the first hour; then she filled her largest shells with the most
limpid water, and her hollow cocoa nuts with the most delicious figs,
interspersed with roses, and arranged them picturesquely on the stone
bench of the ruined pagoda. The time, however, passed over without the
arrival of the stranger, and Immalee, on visiting her fairy banquet the
next day, wept over the withered fruit, but dried her eyes, and hastened
to replace them.
“She was thus employed on the eighth morning, when she saw the stranger
approach; and the wild and innocent delight with which she bounded
towards him, excited in him for a moment a feeling of gloomy and
reluctant compunction, which Immalee’s quick susceptibility traced in
his pausing step and averted eye. She stood trembling in lovely and
pleading diffidence, as if intreating pardon for an unconscious offence,
and asking permission to approach by the very attitude in which she
forbore it, while tears stood in her eyes ready to fall at another
repelling motion. This sight “whetted his almost blunted purpose.” She
must learn to suffer, to qualify her to become my pupil, he thought.
“Immalee, you weep,” he added, approaching her. “Oh yes!” said Immalee,
smiling like a spring morning through her tears; “you are to teach me to
suffer, and I shall soon be very fit for your world--but I had rather
weep for you, than smile on a thousand roses.”--“Immalee,” said the
stranger, repelling the tenderness that melted him in spite of himself,
“Immalee, I come to shew you something of the world of thought you are
so anxious to inhabit, and of which you must soon become an inmate.
Ascend this hill where the palm-trees are clustering, and you shall see
a glimpse of part of it.”--“But I would like to see the whole, and all
at once!” said Immalee, with the natural avidity of thirsty and unfed
intellect, that believes it can swallow all things, and digest all
things. “The whole, and all at once!” said her conductor, turning to
smile at her as she bounded after him, breathless and glowing with newly
excited feeling. “I doubt the part you will see to-night will be more
than enough to satiate even your curiosity.” As he spoke he drew a tube
from his vest, and bid her apply it to her sight. The Indian obeyed him;
but, after gazing a moment, uttered the emphatic exclamation, “I am
there!--or are they here?” and sunk on the earth in a frenzy of delight.
She rose again in a moment, and eagerly seizing the telescope, applied
it in a wrong direction, which disclosed merely the sea to her view, and
exclaimed sadly, “Gone!--gone--all that beautiful world lived and died
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