64. CHAPTER LXIV.
For a time we were happy in Odo: Yillah and I in
our islet. Nor did the pearl on her bosom glow more
rosily than the roses in her cheeks; though at intervals
they waned and departed; and deadly pale was her glance,
when she murmured of the whirlpool and mosses. As pale
my soul, bethinking me of Aleema the priest.
But day by day, did her spell weave round me its magic,
and all the hidden things of her being grew more lovely and
strange. Did I commune with a spirit? Often I thought
that Paradise had overtaken me on earth, and that Yillah
was verily an angel, and hence the mysteries that hallowed
her.
But how fleeting our joys. Storms follow bright dawnings.—Long
memories of short-lived scenes, sad thoughts
of joyous hours—how common are ye to all mankind.
When happy, do we pause and say—“Lo, thy felicity, my
soul?” No: happiness seldom seems happiness, except when
looked back upon from woes. A flowery landscape, you
must come out of, to behold.
Sped the hours, the days, the one brief moment of our
joys. Fairy bower in the fair lagoon, scene of sylvan ease
and heart's repose,—Oh, Yillah, Yillah! All the woods
repeat the sound, the wild, wild woods of my wild soul.
Yillah! Yillah! cry the small strange voices in me, and
evermore, and far and deep, they echo on.
Days passed. When one morning I found the arbor
vacant. Gone! A dream. I closed my eyes, and would
have dreamed her back. In vain. Starting, I called upon
her name; but none replied. Fleeing from the islet, I
gained the neighboring shore, and searched among the
woods; and my comrades meeting, besought their aid.
But idle all. No glimpse of aught, save trees and flowers.
Then Media was sought out; the event made known; and
quickly, bands were summoned to range the isle.
Noon came; but no Yillah. When Media averred she
was no longer in Odo. Whither she was gone, or how, he
knew not; nor could any imagine.
At this juncture, there chanced to arrive certain messengers
from abroad; who, presuming that all was well with
Taji, came with renewed invitations to visit various pleasant
places round about. Among these, came Queen Hautia's
heralds, with their Iris flag, once more bringing flowers.
But they came and went unheeded.
Setting out to return, these envoys were accompanied by
numerous followers of Media, dispatched to the neighboring
islands, to seek out the missing Yillah. But three days
passed; and, one by one, they all returned; and stood
before me silently.
For a time I raved. Then, falling into outer repose,
lived for a space in moods and reveries, with eyes that knew
no closing, one glance forever fixed.
They strove to rouse me. Girls danced and sang; and
tales of fairy times were told; of monstrous imps, and
youths enchanted; of groves and gardens in the sea. Yet
still I moved not, hearing all, yet noting naught. Media
cried, “For shame, oh Taji; thou, a god?” and placed a
spear in my nerveless hand. And Jarl loud called upon
me to awake. Samoa marveled.
Still sped the days. And at length, my memory was
restored. The thoughts of things broke over me like returning
billows on a beach long bared. A rush, a foam of
recollections!—Sweet Yillah gone, and I bereaved.
Another interval, and that mood was past. Misery became
a memory. The keen pang a deep vibration. The remembrance
seemed the thing remembered; though bowed with sadness.
There are thoughts that lie and glitter deep: tearful pearls
beneath life's sea, that surges still, and rolls sunlit, whatever
it may hide. Common woes, like fluids, mix all round.
Not so with that other grief. Some mourners load the air
with lamentations; but the loudest notes are struck from
hollows. Their tears flow fast: but the deep spring only
wells.
At last I turned to Media, saying I must hie from Odo,
and rove throughout all Mardi; for Yillah might yet be
found.
But hereafter, in words, little more of the maiden, till
perchance her fate be learned.
