Thus spoke the demon; and having chanted the incantation, full of menace and of deep design, he turned to depart. Sleep was still upon the eyes of Fernand and Nisida as they lay in each other's arms--the island and the sea, too, were sleeping in the soft light of the silver moon, and the countless stars which gemmed the vault of heaven,--when the dark figure passed along the sand, away from the rudely-constructed tenement. CHAPTER LIV. When the sun rose again from the orient wave, Fernand repaired to the grove, as was his wont, to gather fruits for the morning repast, while Nisida bathed her fair form in the waters of the Mediterranean. But there was a gloom upon that lady's brow, and there was a somber flashing in her large dark eyes which denoted an incipient conflict of emotions stirring within her breast. She had retired to rest, as we have seen on the previous evening, with a heart glowing toward her beloved and handsome Fernand--she had fallen asleep with the tender sounds of his musical yet manly voice in her ears, and the image of his beautiful countenance in her mind--but in the night--she knew not at what hour--strange dreams began to oppress her, ominous visions filled her with anxiety. It seemed as if some being, having right to reproach and power to taunt, whispered to her as she slept, stern remonstrances against the idle, voluptuous, and dreaming life she was leading, mocking her for passing her time in the maudlin delights of love, calling upon her to arouse her latent energies and shake off that luxurious lethargy, teaching her to look upon the island, beauteous though it were, as one vast prison in which she was confined, from whence there were, nevertheless, means of escape, raising up before her mental vision all the most alluring and bustling scenes of her own fair, native city of Florence, then bitterly reproaching her for having allowed her soul to be more wrapped up in the society of Fernand Wagner, than solicitous, as it was wont to be, for the welfare of her brother Francisco, creating, too, wild doubts in her imagination as to whether circumstances might not, after all, have united her brother and Flora Francatelli in the bonds of a union which for many reasons she abhorred, and lastly thundering in her ears the terrific accusation that she was perjured to a solemn and an awful vow pledged by her lips, on a dread occasion, and to the dictating voice of her dying mother. When she awoke in the morning her brain appeared to be in confusion, but as her thoughts gradually settled themselves in the various cells of the seat of memory, the entire details of her long dream assumed the semblance of a connected chain, even as we have just described them. For these thoughts had arisen in the nature and order commanded by the demon.