California -- Fiction; Science fiction; Sicily (Italy) -- Fiction
And he crossed himself devoutly, joining in the solemn chanting of his
brethren, kneeling in the moonlight, which threw a ghastly lustre on
the dead faces of the victims of the earthquake,--victims not "struck
by the hand of God" but by the hand of man! And he who was responsible
for the blow lay unconscious of having dealt it, and was borne through
the air swiftly and safely away for ever from the tragic scene of the
ruin and desolation he had himself wrought.
CHAPTER XXIV
A great silence pervaded the Palazzo d'Oro,--the strained silence of an
intense activity weighted with suspense. Servants moved about here and
there with noiseless rapidity,--Don Aloysius was seen constantly pacing
up and down the loggia absorbed in anxious thought and prayer, and the
Marchese Rivardi came and went on errands of which he alone knew the
import. Overhead the sky was brilliantly blue and cloudless,--the sun
flashed a round shield of dazzling gold all day long on the breast of
the placid sea,--but within the house, blinds were drawn to shade and
temper the light for eyes that perhaps might never again open to the
blessing and glory of the day. A full week had passed since the "White
Eagle" had returned from its long and adventurous flight over the vast
stretches of ocean, bearing with it the two human creatures cast down
to death in the deep Californian canon,--and only one of them had
returned to the consciousness of life,--the other still stayed on the
verge of the "Great Divide." Morgana had safely landed the heavy burden
of seeming death her ship had carried,--and simply stating to Lady
Kingswood and her household staff that it was a case of rescue from
drowning, had caused the two corpses--(such as they truly appeared)--to
be laid, each in a separate chamber, surrounded with every means that
could be devised or thought of for their resuscitation. In an
atmosphere glowing with mild warmth, on soft beds they were placed,
inert and white as frozen clay, their condition being apparently so
hopeless that it seemed mere imaginative folly to think that the least
breath could ever again part their set lips or the smallest pulsation
of blood stir colour through their veins. But Morgana never wavered in
her belief that they lived, and hour after hour, day after day she
watched with untiring patience, administering the mysterious balm or
portion which she kept preciously in her own possession,--and not till
the fifth day of her vigil, when Manella showed faint signs of
returning consciousness, did she send to Rome for a famous scientist
and physician with whom she had frequently corresponded. She entrusted
the dispatch of this message to Rivardi, saying--
"It is now time for further aid than mine. The girl will recover--but
the man--the man is still in the darkness!"
And her eyes grew heavy with a cloud of sorrow and regret which
softened her delicate beauty and made it more than ever unearthly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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