Natalie clung closer to her friend's side.
"I would now gladly die," said she.
"Already die!" whispered he. "Die before you have lived, Natalie?"
Then they were again silent, the wind rustled in the trees, the
fountains murmured, the birds sang, and in golden light lay the moon
over this paradise of two happy beings.
But what is that which is rustling in the pines close to the wall--what
is that looking out with flashing eyes and a poisonous glance? Is it the
serpent already come to expel these happy beings from their paradise?
They see nothing, they hear nothing, they are both dreaming, so sure do
they feel of their happiness.
But there is a continued rustling. It is unnatural! It resembles not
the rustling of the evening wind! It is not the rustling of a bird,
balancing itself upon the branch of the tree! What, then, is it?
An opening is made in the foliage, and it is the arm of a man that makes
it. Upon the wall is to be seen the form of a man, and near him slowly
rises a second form. Cautiously he glances around, and then makes a
scornful grimace, while his eyes shine like those of a hyena. He has
discovered the two sitting together in happy security, and enjoying the
tranquil beauty of the evening in silent beatitude.
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