end and swings gently.

But from the midst of the coils the hideous head of the monster stood
out--its eyes gleaming malignantly upon Wagner as he approached.
Suddenly the reptile, doubtless alarmed by the flashing of the bright
sword, disengaged itself like lightning from the awful embrace in which
it had retained the Lady Nisida, and sprung furiously toward Fernand.
But the blow that he aimed at its head was unerring and heavy; its skull
was cloven in two--and it fell on the long grass, where it writhed in
horrible convulsions for some moments, although its life was gone.

Words cannot be found to describe the delirium of joy which Wagner felt,
when having thus slain the terrible anaconda, he placed his hand on
Nisida's heart and felt that it beat--though languidly. He lifted her
from the ground--he carried her in his arms to the bank of the limpid
stream--and he sprinkled water upon her pale cheeks.

Slowly did she recover; and when her large black eyes at length opened,
she uttered a fearful shriek, and closed them again--for with returning
life the reminiscence of the awful embrace of the serpent came back
also. But Wagner murmured words of sweet assurance and consolation--of
love and joy, in her ears; and she felt that it was no dream, but that
she was really saved! Then, winding her arms round Fernand's neck, she
embraced him in speechless and still almost senseless trance, for the
idea of such happy deliverance was overpowering--amounting to an agony
which a mortal creature could scarcely endure.

"Oh! Nisida," at length exclaimed Wagner, "was it a delusion produced by
the horrors of that scene?--or did thy voice really greet mine ears ere
now!"

There was a minute's profound silence--during which, as they sat upon
the bank of the stream, locked in a fond embrace, their eyes were fixed
with fascinating gaze upon each other, as if they could not contemplate
each other too long--he in tenderness, and she in passion.

"Yes, Fernand," said Nisida, breaking that deep silence at last, and
speaking in a voice so mellifluously clear, so soft, so penetrating in
its tone, that it realized all the fond ideas which her lover had
conceived of what its nature would be if it were ever restored, "yes,
Fernand, dearest Fernand," she repeated, "you did indeed hear my voice,
and to _you_ never again shall I be mute."

Wagner could not allow her time to say more: he was almost wild with
rapture! His Nisida was restored to hi