Wagner, the Wehr-WolfReynolds, George W. M. (George William MacArthur)
Science
Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf
Reynolds, George W. M. (George William MacArthur)
Penny dreadfuls; Werewolves -- Fiction
The month that followed was characterized by many quarrels and disputes;
for Nisida's soul acquired all the restlessness which had marked it ere
she was thrown on the island, but which solitude at first and then the
possession of Wagner, had for a time so greatly subdued. Nevertheless,
there were still occasions when she would cling to Wagner with all the
confiding fondness of one who remembered how he had saved her life from
the hideous anaconda, and who looked up to him as her only joy and
solace in that clime, the beauty of which became painful with its
monotony--yes, she would cling to him as they roved along the sands
together--she would gaze up into his countenance, and as she read
assurances of the deepest affection in his fine dark eyes, she would
exclaim rapturously, "Oh! how handsome--how god-like art thou, my
Fernand! Pardon me--pardon me, that I should ever have nursed resentment
against thee!"
It was when she was in such a mood as this that he murmured in her ears,
"Nisida dearest, thou hast thy secret which I have never sought to
penetrate. I also have my secret, beloved one, as I hinted to thee on
that day which united us in this island; and into that mystery of mine
thou mayest not look. But at certain intervals I must absent myself from
thee for a few hours, as I hitherto have done; and on my return, O
dearest Nisida! let me not behold that glorious countenance of thine
clouded with anger and with gloom!"
Then ere she could utter a word of reply, he sealed her lips with
kisses--he pressed her fervently to his heart, and at that moment she
thought he seemed so divinely handsome, and she felt so proud of
possessing the love of a man invested with such superhuman beauty and
such a splendid intellect, that she attempted not a remonstrance nor a
complaint against what was but the preface to a fifth absence of
four-and-twenty hours. And when Fernand Wagner reappeared again, his
Nisida hastened to meet him as he descended from the mountains--those
mountains which were crossed over by a surefooted and agile man with so
much difficulty, and which he knew it would be impossible for him to
traverse during that mad career in which he was monthly doomed to whirl
along in his lupine shape--yes, she hurried to meet him--receiving him
with open arms--smiled tenderly upon him--and led him to the sea-shore,
where she had spread the noonday meal in the most inviting manner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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