The Wandering Jew, Book VIII.., Eugene Sue [best non fiction books of all time .txt] 📗

suddenly. "No doubt, he will next perform the hand to

hand grapple."

 

Morok was at this moment in front of the stage, but he had yet to

traverse its entire breadth to reach the cavern's mouth. He stopped an

instant, adjusted an arrow to the string, knelt down behind a mass of

rock, took deliberate aim--and then the arrow hissed across the stage,

and was lost in the depths of the cavern, into which the panther had

retired, after showing for a moment her threatening head to the audience.

Hardly had the arrow disappeared, than Death, purposely irritated by

Goliath (who was invisible) sent forth a howl of rage, as if she had been

really wounded. Morok's actions became so expressive, he evinced so

naturally his joy at having hit the wild beast, that a tempest of

applause burst from every quarter of the house. Then, throwing away his

bow, he drew a dagger from his girdle, took it between his teeth, and

began to crawl forward on hands and knees, as though he meant to surprise

the wounded panther in his den. To render the illusion perfect, Death,

again excited by Goliath, who struck him with an iron bar, sent forth

frightful howlings from the depths of the cavern.

 

The gloomy aspect of the forest, only half-lighted with a reddish glare,

was so effective--the howlings of the panther were so furious--the

gestures, attitude, and countenance of Morok were so expressive of

terror, that the audience, attentive and trembling, now maintained a

profound silence. Every one held his breath, and a kind of shudder came

over the spectators, as though they expected some horrible event. What

gave such a fearful air of truth to the pantomime of Morok, was that, as

he approached the cavern step by step, he approached also the

Englishman's box. In spite of himself, the lion-tamer, fascinated by

terror, could not take his eyes from the large green eyes of this man,

and it seemed as if every one of the abrupt movements which he made in

crawling along, was produced by a species of magnetic attraction, caused

by the fixed gaze of the fatal wagerer. Therefore, the nearer Morok

approached, the more ghastly and livid he became. At sight of this

pantomime, which was no longer acting, but the real expression of intense

fear, the deep and trembling silence which had reigned in the theatre was

once more interrupted by acclamations, with which were mingled the

roarings of the panther, and the distant growls of the lion and tiger.

 

The Englishman leaned almost out of his box, with a frightful sardonic

smile on his lip, and with his large eyes still fixed, panted for breath.

The perspiration ran down his bald red forehead, as if he had really

expended an incredible amount of magnetic power in attracting Morok, whom

he now saw close to the cavern entrance. The moment was decisive.

Crouching down with his dagger in his hand, following with eye and

gesture Death's every movement, who, roaring furiously, and opening wide

her enormous jaws, seemed determined to guard the entrance of her den,

Morok waited for the moment to rush upon her. There is such fascination

in danger, that Adrienne shared, in spite of herself, the feeling of

painful curiosity, mixed with terror, that thrilled through all the

spectators. Leaning forward like the marchioness, and gazing upon this

scene of fearful interest, the lady still held mechanically in her hand

the Indian bouquet preserved since the morning. Suddenly, Morok raised a

wild shout, as he rushed towards Death, who answered this exclamation by

a dreadful roar, and threw herself upon her master with so much fury,

that Adrienne, in alarm, believing the man lost, drew herself back, and

covered her fact with her hands. Her flowers slipped from her grasp, and,

falling upon the stage, rolled into the cavern in which Morok was

struggling with the panther.

 

Quick as lightning, supple and agile as a tiger, yielding to the

intoxication of his love, and to the wild ardor excited in him by the

roaring of the panther, Djalma sprang at one bound upon the stage, drew

his dagger, and rushed into the cavern to recover Adrienne's nosegay. At

that instant, Morok, being wounded, uttered a dreadful cry for help; the

panther, rendered still more furious at sight of Djalma, make the most

desperate efforts to break her chain. Unable to succeed in doing so, she

rose upon her hind legs, in order to seize Djalma, then within reach of

her sharp claws. It was only by bending down his head, throwing himself

on his knees, and twice plunging his dagger into her belly with the

rapidity of lightning, that Djalma escaped certain death. The panther

gave a howl, and fell with her whole weight upon the prince. For a

second, during which lasted her terrible agony, nothing was seen but a

confused and convulsive mass of black limbs, and white garments stained

with blood--and then Djalma rose, pale, bleeding, for he was wounded--and

standing erect, his eye flashing with savage pride, his foot on the body

of the panther, he held in his hand Adrienne's bouquet, and cast towards

her a glance which told the intensity of his love. Then only did Adrienne

feel her strength fail her--for only superhuman courage had enabled her

to watch all the terrible incidents of the struggle.

 

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Publication Date: 05-09-2015

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