“One sand more out of the mighty hour-glass,”
said he, rising; “one hour nearer to the last!
I am weary of humanity. I will enter into one
of the countless worlds around me.” He
lifted the arras that clothed the walls, and touching
a strong iron door (then made visible) with a minute
key which he wore in a ring, passed into an inner apartment
lighted by a single lamp of extraordinary lustre.
The room was small; a few phials and some dried herbs
were ranged in shelves on the wall, which was hung
with snow-white cloth of coarse texture. From
the shelves Zicci selected one of the phials, and
poured the contents into a crystal cup. The liquid
was colorless, and sparkled rapidly up in bubbles of
light; it almost seemed to evaporate ere it reached
his lips. But when the strange beverage was
quaffed, a sudden change was visible in the countenance
of Zicci: his beauty became yet more dazzling,
his eyes shone with intense fire, and his form seemed
to grow more youthful and ethereal.
CHAPTER V.
The next day, Glyndon bent his steps towards Zicci’s
palace. The young man’s imagination, naturally
inflammable, was singularly excited by the little
he had seen and heard of this strange being; a spell
he could neither master nor account for, attracted
him towards the stranger. Zicci’s power
seemed mysterious and great, his motives kindly and
benevolent, yet his manners chilling and repellant.
Why at one moment reject Glyndon’s acquaintance,
at another save him from danger? How had Zicci
thus acquired the knowledge of enemies unknown to Glyndon
himself? His interest was deeply roused, his
gratitude appealed to; he resolved to make another
effort to conciliate Zicci.
The signor was at home, and Glyndon was admitted into
a lofty saloon, where in a few moments Zicci joined
him.
“I am come to thank you for your warning last
night,” said he, “and to entreat you to
complete my obligation by informing me of the quarter
to which I may look for enmity and peril.”
“You are a gallant, Mr. Glyndon,” said
Zicci, with a smile; “and do you know so little
of the South as not to be aware that gallants have
always rivals?”
“Are you serious?” said Glyndon, coloring.
“Most serious. You love Isabel di Pisani;
you have for rival one of the most powerful and relentless
of the Neapolitan princes. Your danger is indeed
great.”
“But, pardon me, how came it known to you?”
“I give no account of myself to mortal man,”
replied Zicci, haughtily; “and to me it matters
not whether you regard or scorn my warning.”
“Well, if I may not question you, be it so;
but at least advise me what to do.”
“You will not follow my advice.”
“You wrong me! Why?”
“Because you are constitutionally brave; you
are fond of excitement and mystery; you like to be
the hero of a romance. I should advise you to
leave Naples, and you will disdain to do so while Naples
contains a foe to shun or a mistress to pursue.”
Copyrights
Zicci — Volume 01 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
