CHAPTER XXIV. PHANTASMION RETURNS TO PALMLAND BY SEA. MEANTIME Phantasmion approached the sea shore by a thickly wooded gorge, the lovely Chinquis flying by his side or before him, then rushing up among the trees to play hide and seek with her master, as she had been wont to do in the groves of Palmland. From between the last rocks of the valley appeared a small portion of the sea, in the midst of which, a little skiff moved on the dark waves with white sails gleaming in the twilight. The moon-bird paused not with Phantasmion to note that object, but skimming on, now hither now thither, with careless waste of motion, flew unawares against the face of Karadan, as he turned an angle of the winding road. The youth, being suddenly startled in his miserable mood, lifted an angry hand and smote the bird with such force that it fell to the ground; whereupon Phantasmion sprang forward, and the two princely rivals stood face to face. "Well met !" cried the young king of Palmland; "I have not come hither in vain, since I have encountered thee. Let us fight now for that pitcher which hangs to thy girdle.” So be it!" cried Karadan, hastily unfastening the vessel; "I will show thee a good place, smooth and light." He hurried on, till, coming within a stone's throw of a chasm amid the rocks, he raised his hand to fling the pitcher down that dark abyss, hoping thus to prevent its falling to the lot of his rival, let the event of the conflict be what it might. But Phantasmion, springing forward, stayed his arm; the pitcher fell at his feet; Karadan in desperation drew his dagger, and was rushing on his unguarded adversary, when the moon-bird, which had risen from the ground unobserved, flew upon him and darted her beak into his eye. A stream of blood gushed down his cheek; he was still feeble from the effects of Seshelma's touch, and, overpowered by this second blow, he fell fainting on the ground. Phantasmion resolved to secure the pitcher, and fight with Karadan on some future opportunity; he began to draw it from under the body of the youth, who opened his eyes and groaned deeply, but had not strength to stir. The prince saw that his lips moved, but no articulate sounds reached the listener's ear. He desisted for a moment, then renewed his attempt, and, pulling out the pitcher, sought to place it under his cloak, but the handle slipped out of his fingers; he took it up again, but the same thing happened; then he would have seized the vessel by the lip, but, like those insects which elude the grasp with their finely polished cases or pliant hair, it still glided away; he might as well have tried to hold quicksilver, and, after many vain attempts, he began to suspect that he was foiled by some invisible being. "Can Seshelma prevail here," he cried, "among rocks and trees and flowery banks ?" Phantasmion cast his eyes around. him on all sides; at a little distance from the place where he stood grew a tall branching plant, sheeted with blossoms, which at this evening hour were newly opened, when other plants had closed their dewy cups and bells. At mid-day the hue of those flowers would have looked. wan and spiritless; but now that the sky was sobered, now that scarlet and crimson began to blacken, while blue, lilac, and green were growing all alike, the silver yellow gleam of the broad disk, which gathered in the light, like eyes of night birds, had a noticeable lustre, and they seemed to be the beautiful spectres of blossoms that had perished in the day. Just above that luminous plant appeared another spectre, yet more softly resplendent. It was the Fairy Feydeleen, with warning hand outstretched toward the youth of Palmland. “Phantasmion!" she whispered, "the tears of Arzene have prevailed, and, even against thee, I must guard her truant son. Go hence, I beseech thee, and trouble him no more. The young monarch obeyed; he proceeded down the glen, and, looking back, ere the path turned away, beheld the delicate fairy pouring balm from a chalice on the eyes of Karadan. And now Phantasmion has entered the little skiff, and is about to leave those hostile shores, when on the summit of the cliff, high over-head, he beholds two figures, the indistinct lineaments of which, seen through the dusk, fill his soul with apprehension. That stony outline of an armed form, sharp as the rugged rock, and that soft quivering plume belong to none but Glandreth, while, on the other side, vast wings upraised, and moveless, bespeak the presence of Oloola. She points to an eagle that flies overhead with threads of network hanging from its feathers. It is the one that rent Potentilla's web; Glandreth looks after the bird, then eagerly renews his discourse; what words he uttered were inaudible to Phantasmion, but the gale brought to his ear Oloola's resonant reply. "Phantasmion has not carried her away; she is gone to seek a spring of healing waters; for the sake of Albinian and of Albinet, she roams afar.' The youth listened eagerly: Glandreth's discourse was a dull murmur, but Oloola spake again, and her words appeared to have been blown through a trumpet. "While Phantasmion goes in search of Iarine, Glandreth shall conquer the Land of Palms." Then Glandreth shouted for joy till all the rocks reechoed, and Phantasmion saw that Oloola had disappeared from the cliff. He was still watching Glandreth and listening to the uproar which his voice raised along the shore, when the little vessel in which he stood was suddenly lifted up and whirled about in the air, while the sea dashed and roared and eddied underneath, as if a waterspout had fallen on the spot. The moon-bird, having no power to resist that blast, eddied round and round without the vessel; but gradually the wind fell, the sea grew smooth, and the fragile bark settled on the water, as a falcon sinks to her nest after wheeling about restlessly in the air. Meantime Phantasmion heard a voice on high, and it sent these words to his ear, “I swore to serve him till Anthemmina's dying day." " The moon is up, and two large stars, bright spots of light, appear as if they had dropped out of her beaming crescent; Phantasmion admires not the moon, nor fancies an invisible chain by which those pendant gems may be linked to her golden bow. The chinquis rests upon the mast and sleeps in the moonlight, her splendid train, with all its mirrors, reflecting the mild rays of night: but the Prince of Palmland gazes not on her in thought he is following the lovely pilgrim through dangerous : woods and wilds. Thus he coasted along, coming to land now and then for provisions, till he reached Palmland, and sailed up the principal river to his own abode. Weary and dispirited, he reached his palace gates, and scarce had arrived at the pomegranate tree when the faithful chinquis, which had never wholly recovered Karadan's blow, fell dead at his feet. Phantasmion sate upon the ground, and shed tears over the lifeless bird: but Potentilla came behind him and cheerily exclaimed, "Weep no more for the dead, but take thought for the living." The prince looked up; "I have gained the heart of Iarine," said he; "but I cannot make her my wife because of Glandreth and Karadan." Potentilla replied, "Surely my aid has availed thee somewhat; perchance it may enable thee to gain still more." |