But when the first pangs of his disappointment had passed, Cosmo began
to comfort himself with the hope that she might return, perhaps the next
evening, at the same hour. Resolving that if she did, she should not
at least be scared by the hateful skeleton, he removed that and several
other articles of questionable appearance into a recess by the side of
the hearth, whence they could not possibly cast any reflection into the
mirror; and having made his poor room as tidy as he could, sought the
solace of the open sky and of a night wind that had begun to blow, for
he could not rest where he was. When he returned, somewhat composed, he
could hardly prevail with himself to lie down on his bed; for he could
not help feeling as if she had lain upon it; and for him to lie there
now would be something like sacrilege. However, weariness prevailed; and
laying himself on the couch, dressed as he was, he slept till day.
With a beating heart, beating till he could hardly breathe, he stood
in dumb hope before the mirror, on the following evening. Again the
reflected room shone as through a purple vapour in the gathering
twilight. Everything seemed waiting like himself for a coming splendour
to glorify its poor earthliness with the presence of a heavenly joy. And
just as the room vibrated with the strokes of the neighbouring church
bell, announcing the hour of six, in glided the pale beauty, and again
laid herself on the couch. Poor Cosmo nearly lost his senses with
delight. She was there once more! Her eyes sought the corner where the
skeleton had stood, and a faint gleam of satisfaction crossed her face,
apparently at seeing it empty. She looked suffering still, but there was
less of discomfort expressed in her countenance than there had been the
night before. She took more notice of the things about her, and seemed
to gaze with some curiosity on the strange apparatus standing here and
there in her room. At length, however, drowsiness seemed to overtake
her, and again she fell asleep. Resolved not to lose sight of her this
time, Cosmo watched the sleeping form. Her slumber was so deep and
absorbing that a fascinating repose seemed to pass contagiously from her
to him as he gazed upon her; and he started as if from a dream, when
the lady moved, and, without opening her eyes, rose, and passed from the
room with the gait of a somnambulist.
Cosmo was now in a state of extravagant delight. Most men have a secret
treasure somewhere. The miser has his golden hoard; the virtuoso his pet
ring; the student his rare book; the poet his favourite haunt; the lover
his secret drawer; but Cosmo had a mirror with a lovely lady in it. And
now that he knew by the skeleton, that she was affected by the things
around her, he had a new object in life: he would turn the bare chamber
in the mirror into a room such as no lady need disdain to call her own.
This he could effect only by furnishing and adorning his. And Cosmo was
poor. Yet he possessed accomplishments that could be turned to account;
although, hitherto, he had preferred living on his slender allowance, to
increasing his means by what his pride considered unworthy of his rank.
He was the best swordsman in the University; and now he offered to give
lessons in fencing and similar exercises, to such as chose to pay
him well for the trouble. His proposal was heard with surprise by the
students; but it was eagerly accepted by many; and soon his instructions
were not confined to the richer students, but were anxiously sought by
many of the young nobility of Prague and its neighbourhood. So that very
soon he had a good deal of money at his command. The first thing he did
was to remove his apparatus and oddities into a closet in the room.
Then he placed his bed and a few other necessaries on each side of the
hearth, and parted them from the rest of the room by two screens of
Indian fabric. Then he put an elegant couch for the lady to lie upon, in
the corner where his bed had formerly stood; and, by degrees, every
day adding some article of luxury, converted it, at length, into a rich
boudoir.