Africa, North -- History -- 647-1517 -- Fiction; Vandals -- Fiction
The weeping girl, springing from the Princess's clasping arms, stood
erect, and stretching both arms wide exclaimed, in a low tone, "Alas!
Unspeakably!" and threw herself again on her friend's breast. Her large
soft eyes sparkled through her tears as she went on in a low whisper,
as though fearing that strangers might hear in the secluded chamber:
"That is my sweet secret,--the secret of my shame." She smiled
radiantly. "I loved him long ago, I believe even as a child. When he
came to my father to buy grain for his villas, he lifted me in his
strong arms like a feather, until I--gradually--forbade it. The older I
grew, the more ardently I loved, and therefore the more timidly I
avoided him. Oh, do not betray it as long as you live--when he
seized me, bore me away in the public street--fiercely as my wrath, my
honor rebelled, deeply as I suffered from pity for my father--yet
yet--yet! While struggling desperately in his iron arms, screaming for
help--yet!--in the midst of all the mortal fright and anger, there
blazed here in my heart, secretly, a warm, happy, blissful emotion: 'He
loves me; he tortures me from love!' And, amid all the keen suffering,
I was happy, nay, proud, that he dared so bold a deed for love of me!
Can you understand, can you forgive that?"
Hilda smiled bewitchingly: "Forgive? No! I am utterly bewildered with
sheer pleasure. Forgive _me_, little one. I had not expected from you
so much genuine, ardent woman's love! But, you obstinate little
creature, you hypocrite,--why did you so long conceal and deny your
feelings toward him from your father and your friend?"
"Why? That is perfectly plain," exclaimed the girl, indignantly. "From
embarrassment and shame. It is terrible, it is a frightful disgrace,
for a young girl, instead of hating the man who seized her in the
public market-place, and even kissed her at the same time, to love him.
It is utterly abominable."
Half weeping, half smiling, she hid her face on her friend's breast,
tenderly kissing a little gold cross that she wore round her neck
attached to a thin silver chain, and lovingly pressing to her bosom a
bronze semi-circle, inscribed with runes, that she wore on her arm.
"His betrothal and, alas, his marriage gift," she sighed.
"Yes, you love him deeply," said Hilda, smiling. "And he? He sent my
Gibamund to me with frequent messages of the anguish he was suffering,
and he was as grateful as a blind man who has been restored to sight
when I told him that he was indeed wholly unworthy of you; but if he
really desired to win you for his wife, he must ask you if you would
wed him, and then beg your father for your hand. This simple bit of
wisdom made him as happy as a child. He followed the counsel, and
now--"
"Now?" Eugenia interrupted, in almost comical indignation. "Now he has
not been seen at all for nearly three days. Who knows how far away he
may be?"
"Not very far," cried Hilda, laughing; "he is just riding into the
courtyard below."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account