to their hut rejoicing in the serene
and happy way in which the last few hours had glided over their
heads--when a dark figure passed along the sand and stopped at a short
distance from the door of the rudely constructed tenement.

And assuredly this was no mortal being--nor wore it now a mortal
shape--but Satan--in all the horrors of his ugliness, though still
invested with that sublimity of mien which marked the mighty fallen
angel--Satan, clothed in terrors ineffable, it was.

For a few moments he stood contemplating the hut wherein the sleepers
lay; dread lightnings flushed from his eyes, and the forked electric
fluid seemed to play round his haughty brow, while his fearful
countenance, the features of which no human pen may venture to describe,
expressed malignant hate, anticipated triumph, and tremendous scorn.

Then, extending his right hand toward the hut, and speaking in that deep
sonorous tone, which when heard by mortal ears, seemed to jar against
the very soul, he chanted the following incantation:--

"Woman of wild and fierce desires!
Why languish thus the wonted fires
That arm'd thine heart and nerved thine hand
To do whate'er thy firmness planned?
Has maudlin love subdued thy soul,
Once so impatient of control?
Has amorous play enslaved the mind
Where erst no common chains confined?
Has tender dalliance power to kill
The wild, indomitable will?
No more must love thus paralyze
And crush thine iron energies;
No more must maudlin passion stay
Thy despot soul's remorseless sway;
Henceforth thy lips shall cease to smile
Upon the beauties of this Isle;
Henceforth thy mental glance shall roam,
O'er the Mediterranean foam,
Toward thy far-off Tuscan home!
Alarms for young Francisco's weal,
And doubts into thy breast steal;
While retrospection carries back
Thy memory o'er time's beaten track
And stops at that dread hour when thou
With burning eyes and flashing brow,
Call'd Heaven to hear the solemn vow
Dictated with the latest breath
Of the fond mother on the untimely bed of death."

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 whi