how
beautiful dost thou appear to me!--how soft and charming is that dear
voice of thine! Let us not think of the past, at least not now; for I
also have explanations to give thee," he added, slowly and mournfully;
then, in a different and again joyous tone, he said: "Let us be happy in
the conviction that we are restored to each other; let this be a
holiday--nay, more," he added, sinking his voice almost to a whisper;
"let it be the day on which we join our hands together in the sight of
Heaven. No priest will bless our union, Nisida; but we will plight our
vows--and God will accord us his blessing."

The lady hid her blushing, glowing countenance on his breast, and
murmured in a voice melodious as the music of the stream by which they
sat, "Fernand, I am thine--thine forever."

"And I am thine, my beauteous Nisida; thine forever, as thou art mine!"
exclaimed Wagner, lifting her head and gazing on her lovely, blushing
face as on a vision of heaven.

"No; she is mine!" thundered the voice of the forgotten Stephano, and in
a moment the bandit flung himself upon Wagner, whom he attempted to hurl
into the crystal but deep river.

Fernand, however, caught the arm of the brigand and dragged him along
with him into the water, while a terrific scream burst from the lips of
Nisida. Then furious was the struggle that commenced in the depths of
the stream. But Stephano lay beneath Wagner, who held him down on the
pebbly bottom. In another moment Nisida herself plunged into the river
with the wild hope of aiding her lover to conquer his foe, or to rescue
him from the grasp which the bandit maintained upon him with the
tenacity that was strengthened rather than impaired by the agony of
suffocation.

But she rose again to the surface in an instant by the indomitable
influence of that instinct for self-preservation which no human being,
when immersed in the deep water, can resist if the art of swimming has
been attained. Again she dived to succor her lover, but her aid, even if
she could have afforded any, was no longer necessary, for Fernand rose
from the crystal depths and bore his Nisida to the bank, while the
corpse of the drowned bandit was carried away by the current.

Wagner and Nisida were now the sole human inhabitants of that isle--the
king and queen of the loveliest clime on which the sun shone. Toward the
sea-shore they repaired, hand in hand, and having partaken of the fruits
which they gathered in their way, they