The Dryad, part 2 · page 21 2101Now lanterns shed their radiance abroad; now the gas had the upper hand; suddenly a rocket rises!102Whence?103Whither?104Here are sounds of soft Italian melodies; yonder, Spanish songs are sung, accompanied by the rattle of the castanets; but strongest of all, and predominating over the rest, the street-organ tunes of the moment, the exciting "Can-Can" music, which Orpheus never knew, and which was never heard by the "Belle Helene."105Even the barrow was tempted to hop upon one of its wheels.106The Dryad danced, floated, flew, changing her color every moment, like a humming-bird in the sunshine; each house, with the world belonging to it, gave her its own reflections.107As the glowing lotus-flower, torn from its stem, is carried away by the stream, so the Dryad drifted along.108Whenever she paused, she was another being, so that none was able to follow her, to recognize her, or to look more closely at her.109Like cloud-pictures, all things flew by her.110She looked into a thousand faces, but not one was familiar to her; she saw not a single form from home.111Two bright eyes had remained in her memory.112She thought of Mary, poor Mary, the ragged merry child, who wore the red flowers in her black hair.113Mary was now here, in the world-city, rich and magnificent as in that day when she drove past the house of the old clergyman, and past the tree of the Dryad, the old oak.114Here she was certainly living, in the deafening tumult.115Perhaps she had just stepped out of one of the gorgeous carriages in waiting.116Handsome equipages, with coachmen in gold braid and footmen in silken hose, drove up.117The people who alighted from them were all richly-dressed ladies.118They went through the opened gate, and ascended the broad staircase that led to a building resting on marble pillars.119Was this building, perhaps, the wonder of the world?120There Mary would certainly be found.121"Sancta Maria!" resounded from the interior.122Incense floated through the lofty painted and gilded aisles, where a solemn twilight reigned.123It was the Church of the Madeleine.124Clad in black garments of the most costly stuffs, fashioned according to the latest mode, the rich feminine world of Paris glided across the shining pavement.125The crests of the proprietors were engraved on silver shields on the velvet-bound prayer-books, and embroidered in the corners of perfumed handkerchiefs bordered with Brussels lace.126A few of the ladies were kneeling in silent prayer before the altars; others resorted to the confessionals.127Anxiety and fear took possession of the Dryad; she felt as if she had entered a place where she had no right to be.128Here was the abode of silence, the hall of secrets.129Everything was said in whispers, every word was a mystery.130The Dryad saw herself enveloped in lace and silk, like the women of wealth and of high birth around her.131Had, perhaps, every one of them a longing in her breast, like the Dryad?132A deep, painful sigh was heard.133Did it escape from some confessional in a distant corner, or from the bosom of the Dryad?134She drew the veil closer around her; she breathed incense, and not the fresh air.135Here was not the abiding-place of her longing.136Away! away--a hastening without rest.137The ephemeral fly knows not repose, for her existence is flight.checked by a teacher138She was out again among the gas candelabra, by a magnificent fountain.139"All its streaming waters are not able to wash out the innocent blood that was spilt here."140Such were the words spoken.141Strangers stood around, carrying on a lively conversation, such as no one would have dared to carry on in the gorgeous hall of secrets whence the Dryad came.1 2← previousThe Dryad, part 1next →The Dryad, part 3↑ back to Fairy Tales of Hans Christian AndersenThis page in Markdown → https://md.mova.elamur.ai/free/en/corpora/tales/pg27200/25/page/2/