The Pirate
"Call no one hither, maiden, upon peril of thy life," said Norna, "and
interrupt not my tale again; for it cannot and must not be told after
that charmed light has ceased to burn."
"And I thank heaven," said Brenda to herself, "that the oil burns low in
the cruize! I am sorely tempted to lend it a puff, but then Norna would
be alone with us in the dark, and that would be worse."
So saying, she submitted to her fate, and sat down, determined to listen
with all the equanimity which she could command to the remaining part of
Norna's tale, which went on as follows:--
"It happened on a hot summer day, and just about the hour of noon,"
continued Norna, "as I sat by the Dwarfie Stone, with my eyes fixed on
the Ward-hill, whence the mysterious and ever-burning carbuncle shed its
rays more brightly than usual, and repined in my heart at the restricted
bounds of human knowledge, that at length I could not help exclaiming,
in the words of an ancient Saga,
'Dwellers of the mountain, rise,
Trolld the powerful, Haims the wise!
Ye who taught weak woman's tongue
Words that sway the wise and strong,--
Ye who taught weak woman's hand
How to wield the magic wand,
And wake the gales on Foulah's steep,
Or lull wild Sumburgh's waves to sleep!--
Still are ye yet?--Not yours the power
Ye knew in Odin's mightier hour.
What are ye now but empty names,
Powerful Trolld, sagacious Haims,
That, lightly spoken, lightly heard,
Float on the air like thistle's beard?'
"I had scarce uttered these words," proceeded Norna, "ere the sky, which
had been till then unusually clear, grew so suddenly dark around me,
that it seemed more like midnight than noon. A single flash of
lightning showed me at once the desolate landscape of heath, morass,
mountain, and precipice, which lay around; a single clap of thunder
wakened all the echoes of the Ward-hill, which continued so long to
repeat the sound, that it seemed some rock, rent by the thunderbolt from
the summit, was rolling over cliff and precipice into the valley.
Immediately after, fell a burst of rain so violent, that I was fain to
shun its pelting, by creeping into the interior of the mysterious stone.
"I seated myself on the larger stone couch, which is cut at the farther
end of the cavity, and, with my eyes fixed on the smaller bed, wearied
myself with conjectures respecting the origin and purpose of my singular
place of refuge. Had it been really the work of that powerful Trolld, to
whom the poetry of the Scalds referred it? Or was it the tomb of some
Scandinavian chief, interred with his arms and his wealth, perhaps also
with his immolated wife, that what he loved best in life might not in
death be divided from him? Or was it the abode of penance, chosen by
some devoted anchorite of later days? Or the idle work of some wandering
mechanic, whom chance, and whim, and leisure, had thrust upon such an
undertaking? I tell you the thoughts that then floated through my brain,
that ye may know that what ensued was not the vision of a prejudiced or
prepossessed imagination, but an apparition, as certain as it was awful.
"Sleep had gradually crept on me, amidst my lucubrations, when I was
startled from my slumbers by a second clap of thunder; and, when I
awoke, I saw, through the dim light which the upper aperture admitted,
the unshapely and indistinct form of Trolld the dwarf, seated opposite
to me on the lesser couch, which his square and misshapen bulk seemed
absolutely to fill up. I was startled, but not affrighted; for the blood
of the ancient race of Lochlin was warm in my veins. He spoke; and his
words were of Norse, so old, that few, save my father, or I myself,
could have comprehended their import,--such language as was spoken in
these islands ere Olave planted the cross on the ruins of heathenism.
His meaning was dark also and obscure, like that which the Pagan priests
were wont to deliver, in the name of their idols, to the tribes that
assembled at the _Helgafels_.[51] This was the import,--
'A thousand winters dark have flown,
Since o'er the threshold of my Stone
A votaress pass'd, my power to own.
Visitor bold
Of the mansion of Trolld,
Maiden haughty of heart,
Who hast hither presumed,--
Ungifted, undoom'd,
Thou shalt not depart;
The power thou dost covet
O'er tempest and wave,
Shall be thine, thou proud maiden,
By beach and by cave,--
By stack[52] and by skerry,[53] by noup[54] and by voe,[55]
By air[56] and by wick,[57] and by helyer[58] and gio,[59]
And by every wild shore which the northern winds know,
And the northern tides lave.
But though this shall be given thee, thou desperately brave,
I doom thee that never the gift thou shalt have,
Till thou reave thy life's giver
Of the gift which he gave.'
"I answered him in nearly the same strain; for the spirit of the ancient
Scalds of our race was upon me, and, far from fearing the phantom, with
whom I sat cooped within so narrow a space, I felt the impulse of that
high courage which thrust the ancient Champions and Druidesses upon
contests with the invisible world, when they thought that the earth no
longer contained enemies worthy to be subdued by them. Therefore did I
answer him thus:--
'Dark are thy words, and severe,
Thou dweller in the stone;
But trembling and fear
To her are unknown,
Who hath sought thee here,
In thy dwelling lone.
Come what comes soever,
The worst I can endure;
Life is but a short fever,
And Death is the cure.'
"The Demon scowled at me, as if at once incensed and overawed; and then
coiling himself up in a thick and sulphureous vapour, he disappeared
from his place. I did not, till that moment, feel the influence of
fright, but then it seized me. I rushed into the open air, where the
tempest had passed away, and all was pure and serene. After a moment's
breathless pause, I hasted home, musing by the way on the words of the
phantom, which I could not, as often happens, recall so distinctly to
memory at the time, as I have been able to do since.
"It may seem strange that such an apparition should, in time, have
glided from my mind, like a vision of the night--but so it was. I
brought myself to believe it the work of fancy--I thought I had lived
too much in solitude, and had given way too much to the feelings
inspired by my favourite studies. I abandoned them for a time, and I
mixed with the youth of my age. I was upon a visit at Kirkwall when I
learned to know your father, whom business had brought thither. He
easily found access to the relation with whom I lived, who was anxious
to compose, if possible, the feud which divided our families. Your
father, maidens, has been rather hardened than changed by years--he had
the same manly form, the same old Norse frankness of manner and of
heart, the same upright courage and honesty of disposition, with more of
the gentle ingenuousness of youth, an eager desire to please, a
willingness to be pleased, and a vivacity of spirits which survives not
our early years. But though he was thus worthy of love, and though
Erland wrote to me, authorizing his attachment, there was another--a
stranger, Minna, a fatal stranger--full of arts unknown to us, and
graces which to the plain manners of your father were unknown. Yes, he
walked, indeed, among us like a being of another and of a superior
race.--Ye look on me as if it were strange that I should have had
attractions for such a lover; but I present nothing that can remind you
that Norna of the Fitful-head was once admired and loved as Ulla
Troil--the change betwixt the animated body and the corpse after
disease, is scarce more awful and absolute than I have sustained, while
I yet linger on earth. Look on me, maidens--look on me by this
glimmering light--Can ye believe that these haggard and weather-wasted
features--these eyes, which have been almost converted to stone, by
looking upon sights of terror--these locks, that, mingled with grey, now
stream out, the shattered pennons of a sinking vessel--that these, and
she to whom they belong, could once be the objects of fond
affection?--But the waning lamp sinks fast, and let it sink while I tell
my infamy.--We loved in secret, we met in secret, till I gave the last
proof of fatal and of guilty passion!--And now beam out, thou magic
glimmer--shine out a little space, thou flame so powerful even in thy
feebleness--bid him who hovers near us, keep his dark pinions aloof from
the circle thou dost illuminate--live but a little till the worst be
told, and then sink when thou wilt into darkness, as black as my guilt
and sorrow!"
While she spoke thus, she drew together the remaining nutriment of the
lamp, and trimmed its decaying flame; then again, with a hollow voice,
and in broken sentences, pursued her narrative.
"I must waste little time in words. My love was discovered, but not my
guilt. Erland came to Pomona in anger, and transported me to our
solitary dwelling in Hoy. He commanded me to see my lover no more, and
to receive Magnus, in whom he was willing to forgive the offences of his
father, as my future husband. Alas, I no longer deserved his
attachment--my only wish was to escape from my father's dwelling, to
conceal my shame in my lover's arms. Let me do him justice--he was
faithful--too, too faithful--his perfidy would have bereft me of my
senses; but the fatal consequences of his fidelity have done me a
tenfold injury."
She paused, and then resumed, with the wild tone of insanity, "It has
made me the powerful and the despairing Sovereign of the Seas and
Winds!"
She paused a second time after this wild exclamation, and resumed her
narrative in a more composed manner.
"My lover came in secret to Hoy, to concert measures for my flight, and
I agreed to meet him, that we might fix the time when his vessel should
come into the Sound. I left the house at midnight."
Here she appeared to gasp with agony, and went on with her tale by
broken and interrupted sentences. "I left the house at midnight--I had
to pass my father's door, and I perceived it was open--I thought he
watched us; and, that the sound of my steps might not break his
slumbers, I closed the fatal door--a light and trivial action--but, God
in Heaven! what were the consequences!--At morn, the room was full of
suffocating vapour--my father was dead--dead through my act--dead
through my disobedience--dead through my infamy! All that follows is
mist and darkness--a choking, suffocating, stifling mist envelopes all
that I said and did, all that was said and done, until I became assured
that my doom was accomplished, and walked forth the calm and terrible
being you now behold me--the Queen of the Elements--the sharer in the
power of those beings to whom man and his passions give such sport as
the tortures of the dog-fish afford the fisherman, when he pierces his
eyes with thorns, and turns him once more into his native element, to
traverse the waves in blindness and agony.[60] No, maidens, she whom you
see before you is impassive to the follies of which your minds are the
sport. I am she that have made the offering--I am she that bereaved the
giver of the gift of life which he gave me--the dark saying has been
interpreted by my deed, and I am taken from humanity, to be something
pre-eminently powerful, pre-eminently wretched!"
As she spoke thus, the light, which had been long quivering, leaped high
for an instant, and seemed about to expire, when Norna, interrupting
herself, said hastily, "No more now--he comes--he comes--Enough that ye