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Page 48
Balder, approaching from the north, trod enjoyingly the silken grass.
No misgiving had he; his uncle would hardly be from home, nor would he
be apt to discredit his nephew's identity. His face had already been
evidence to more than one former knower of his father, and why not
also to his uncle?
The house was more than half a mile in a direct line from the
birch-tree, and presented an imposing appearance; but on drawing near,
the odd architectural discrepancies became noticeable. Side by side
with the prosy Americanism of the northern wing, sprang gracefully the
Moorish columns of the portico; beyond, uprose in massive granite,
quaintly inscribed and carved, and strengthened by heavy pilasters,
the ponderous Egyptian features of the southern portion. The latter
was neither storied nor windowed, and, as Balder conjectured, probably
contained but a single vast room, lighted from within.
Meanwhile there were no signs of an inhabitant, either in the house or
out of it. It wore in parts an air of emptiness and neglect, not
exactly as though gone to seed, but as if little human love and care
had been expended there. The deep-set windows of the brick wing, like
the sunken eyes of an old woman, peered at the visitor with dusky
forlornness. Lonely and stern on the other side stood the Egyptian
pilasters, as though unused to the eye of man; the hieroglyphics along
the cornice intensified the impression of desertion. As the young man
set foot beneath the portico, he laid a hand on one of the slender
pillars, to assure himself that it was real, and not a vision. Cool,
solid marble met his grasp; the building did not vanish in a peal of
thunder, with an echo of demoniac laughter. Yes, all was real!
But the stillness was impressive, and Balder struck the pillar sharply
with his palm, merely for the sake of hearing a noise. There was no
answering sound, so, after a moment's hesitation, he walked to the
door,--which stood ajar,--purposing to call in the aid of bell and
knocker. Neither of these civilized appliances was to be found. While
debating whether to use his voice or to enter and use his eyes, the
note of the hoopoe fell on his ear. An instant after came an answering
note, deeper, sweeter, and stronger,--it thrilled to Balder's heart,
bringing to his mind, by some subtile process, the goddess of the
cliff.
He crossed the oak-panelled hall (where the essence of medi�val
England lingered) and came to the threshold of the conservatory. It
was a scene confusedly beautiful. The air, as it touched his face, was
tropically warm and indolent with voluptuous fragrance of flowers and
plants. Luxuriant shrubs, with broad-drooping leaves, stood
motionless in the heat. Two palm-trees uplifted their heavy plumes
forty feet aloft, on slender stalks, brushing the high glass roof. In
the midst of the conservatory a pool slumbered between rocky margins,
overgrown with a profusion of reeds, grasses, and water-plants. There
floated the giant leaves and blossoms of the tropic water-lily; and on
a fragment of rock rising above the surface dozed a small crocodile,
not more than four feet long, but looking as old, dried up, and coldly
cruel as sin itself!
The place looked like an Indian jungle, and Balder half expected to
see the glancing spits of a tiger crouching beneath the overarching
leaves; or a naked savage with bow and arrows. But amid all this
vegetable luxuriance appeared no human being,--no animal save the evil
crocodile. Whence, then, that melodious voice,--clear essence of
nature's sweetest utterances?
At the left of the conservatory was a door, the entrance to the
Egyptian temple. It was square and heavy-browed, flanked by short
thick columns rising from a base of sculptured papyrus-leaves, and
flowering in lotus capitals. Three marble steps led to the threshold,
while on either side reclined a sphinx in polished granite, softened,
however, by a delicate flowering vine, which had been trained to cling
round their necks. On the deep panels of the door were mystic emblems
carved in relief. A line of hieroglyphics inscribed the lintel in deep
blue, red, and black,--to what purport Balder could not divine.
At the opposite side of the conservatory was a corresponding door,
veiled by an ample fold of silken tapestry, cunningly hand-worked in
representation of a moon half veiled in clouds, shining athwart a
stormy sea. By her light a laboring ship was warned off the rocks to
leeward. The room (one of the later additions) by its external promise
might have been the bower of some fashionable beauty thousands of
years ago.
Balder looked from one of these doors to the other, doubting at which
to apply. The tapestry curtain was swept aside at the base, leaving a
small passage clear to the room beyond. In this opening now appeared
the bright-crested head and eyes of the hoopoe, peeping mischievously
at the intruder, who forthwith stepped down into the conservatory,
holding forth to the little bird a friendly finger. The bird eyed him
critically, then launched itself on the air, and, alighting on a spray
above his head, warbled out a brilliant call.
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