Part 14 (1/2)
Long before the Princess Miranda appeared in Raasay, Eudaemon had known and pondered over the mystic answer returned to her parents by the c.u.mbrae oracle. He diligently sought among his mother's ancient volumes of magic lore for some solution of the phrase ”chequered adventure.” At length he came upon the description of the ancient game of chess ill.u.s.trated by rough drawings.
His attention was at once arrested by discovering that this game must be played upon a ”chequered” board. After careful research he finally resolved to make the trial. It took him, however, a considerable time to fas.h.i.+on the various pieces from the old pictures he possessed.
The Princess, her countenance lit up with curiosity and interest, was soon seated at the little table opposite the Enchanter. Several evenings were spent in teaching her the various moves of the different pieces, and explaining to her the rules of the game.
Eudaemon was fully aware that only one hour during the twenty-four was available for the purpose of disenchantment.
Some evenings later the King and Queen, already grown somewhat sleepy, nodded drowsily in their chairs. The faithful Luachan lay between his master and the fair young guest, whose bright eyes gleamed with unwonted animation. Then the dark Enchanter arising from his seat trimmed the torch above their heads, and prepared, at midnight, to play in earnest the mystic game, so fraught with meaning to the afflicted Princess.
Miranda sat in an old-fas.h.i.+oned chair of curiously carved wood. Her white dress and her fair tresses reflected the flickering light, thus giving some brightness to the lofty hall, whose gloomy proportions were but partially revealed by the blazing fire and the fitful glare of the torch. The most profound silence reigned in the chamber, only broken by the cheerful crackling of the firewood or an occasional snore from the slumbering King.
Fully instructed in the moves by Eudaemon during the previous nights, the Princess and the Enchanter played an interesting game. He had cast aside his long upper robe of black velvet and showed the tightly fitting red under-suit which set off his active form to greatest advantage. He placed himself on a somewhat ricketty ”creepie,” for the unwonted number of guests had used up all his available chairs. As he bent eagerly forward the ruddy light fell on his swarthy face, and his small closely cropped, though curly black head. His burning eyes fixed alternately on the game, and on his silent opponent, seemed to pierce through all they surveyed.
The hour wore on, they exchanged several pieces. Eudaemon then moving a bishop, placed his antagonist's king in ”check.” He uttered the prophetic word. Miranda, thoroughly absorbed, took up her King, and was about to place him within range of her enemy's Queen. The Enchanter gently motioned her hand aside, pointing to his own piece in explanation.
At this moment Miranda broke into such silvery peals of laughter, that Luachan, affrighted, sprang barking from his resting place. Eudaemon in his surprise and delight moved suddenly and upset the whole board incontinently on the floor, ruining the game. Queen Margaret starting up, rushed across the hall. She first held her child at arm's length as if to examine into and convince herself of her ident.i.ty, then clasping her tightly to her heart, shed tears of gladness over her laughing daughter. It was indeed evident that the ”chequered adventure” had fulfilled its mission, and broken the first link in the silent Miranda's chain of enchantment.
The excited parents knew not how to express their feelings of grat.i.tude, but listened in wondering astonishment to Miranda's ringing peals of laughter, as, enraptured with her newly gained accomplishment, she danced round the hall, accompanied by Luachan, who vied with her in gambols of ecstatic joy. Eudaemon had never before beheld anything more graceful than the young Princess appeared to him in all her unconscious beauty of movement.
Inspired by a sudden desire to emulate and join in her mirthful steps, he stretched forth his hand as she pa.s.sed him; she swiftly caught it, and drew him merrily on; thus maid, master, and dog together paced a wild impromptu measure of delight.
Donald, hastening in to ascertain the cause of this unusual commotion, gazed around, rubbed his solitary eye, and looked again and again.
Where was the gloomy Eudaemon, the dreaded Enchanter of the North? The youth heretofore so staid and reserved now flushed and laughing, pirouetted round the bewildered old man with the smiling maiden.
Together they clapped their hands at his amazement.
But now the Queen, with the dignity of manner that she well knew how to a.s.sume, bade her daughter remember who and what she was. Forgetting her late grat.i.tude to their benefactor, she swept haughtily from the apartment, followed by her husband and her unwilling child. Miranda's pleading eyes, however, gave Eudaemon the thanks he most cared to receive, and entirely obliterated from his mind all thought of resentment against her uncertain parents. At the same time he determined to take no further steps until the King and Queen themselves again spoke of their daughter's affliction.
Several days elapsed. The character of the Castle was completely changed. The hitherto hermit like Eudaemon felt impelled to try and elicit again those silvery peals of laughter that rang on his ear with such a curious thrill of pleasure. Nor was he unsuccessful in his efforts. Again and again the old walls re-echoed with the welcome sound. The Enchanter himself felt once more a boy as he played long games of chess with Miranda, or pointed out to her his numerous pets and their diverse habits. The Princess, however, was admonished to keep carefully within her mother's sight; she wast herefore unable to scramble with him as he wished among the wild hills and cliffs around.
But the time flew swiftly by, and at length one morning the King and Queen craved an audience of their young host. Laying aside all traces of their late a.s.sumption of majesty they humbly entreated him to strive to work out still farther their daughter's cure.
Eudaemon listened in silence, fixing on them his piercing dark eye, until they moved uneasily beneath his searching glance. ”I am esteemed worthy to aid in your child's disenchantment,” he answered sternly, ”but am too much beneath her in your eyes to tread with her the mazy measures of the dance, or to join in her everyday pursuits.”
King Murdoch and his wife eagerly disclaimed any idea of making so ungenerous a return for his kindness. At length Eudaemon (who completely saw through their shallow minds, and only spoke to obtain more freedom for their daughter) promised to continue his lucubrations.
That evening for the first time since her death, he drew from a deep recess the dust-covered harp that had once quivered in responsive melody beneath the musical touch of his fair young mother. Miranda and the Queen curiously examined the quaint instrument, and helped to disentangle and divest it of its broken strings. Eudaemon, who had often studied its mechanism, brought forth new strings he himself had manufactured, and showed Miranda where and how they should be placed.
Several evenings pa.s.sed in putting the harp to rights, then the Princess under Eudaemon's magical tuition strove to place aright upon it her slender fingers. Morning, noon, and night Miranda strove to play the melodies that ever floated before her mind's eye as sung to her by Eudaemon, who placed beside her scrolls, on which the words of the songs were written out.
One of them ran thus:
Thou speak'st of to-morrow, yet seemest to sigh, And something there gleams like a tear in thine eye, But though the sweet days of our converse are o'er, The friends.h.i.+p that binds us shall cease nevermore.
When music entrancing shall steal on thine ear, And songs shall be sung thee thou lovest to hear, Oh, may one wild note of my harp seem to thrill, And recall to thee one who remembers thee still.
And ever amid the dark shadows of life, When faint from the battle or weary with strife, Ah! then shall arise like the sun through a shower, The remembrance of all we have felt in this hour.
When moonlight around thee shall flood the pale sea, May thoughts of the north come like visions to thee, And remind thee of hours when we once used to stray, By the ocean's dark verge at the close of the day.
Roll onwards, roll onwards, thou swift flowing Clyde, Yet may our loved friends ne'er resemble thy tide, But changeless and steadfast look back through long years, To the parting that left us in silence and tears.