A Strange Story — Volume 08Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Philosophy
A Strange Story — Volume 08
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
"I do not merit the trust you affect in my courage; but I am now on my
guard against the cheats of the fancy, and the fumes of a vapour can
scarcely bewilder the brain in the open air of this mountain-land. I
believe in no races like those which you tell me lie viewless in space, as
do gases. I believe not in magic; I ask not its aids, and I dread not its
terrors. For the rest, I am confident of one mournful courage,--the
courage that comes from despair. I submit to your guidance, whatever it
be, as a sufferer whom colleges doom to the grave submits to the quack who
says, 'Take my specific and live!' My life is nought in itself; my life
lives in another. You and I are both brave from despair; you would turn
death from yourself, I would turn death from one I love more than myself.
Both know how little aid we can win from the colleges, and both,
therefore, turn to the promises most audaciously cheering. Dervish or
magician, alchemist or phantom, what care you and I? And if they fail us,
what then? They cannot fail us more than the colleges do!"
CHAPTER LXXXIII.
The gold has been gained with an easy labour. I knew where to seek for
it, whether under the turf or in the bed of the creek. But Margrave's
eyes, hungrily gazing round every spot from which the ore was disburied,
could not detect the substance of which he alone knew the outward
appearance. I had begun to believe that, even in the description given to
him of this material, he had been credulously duped, and that no such
material existed, when, coming back from the bed of the watercourse, I saw
a faint yellow gleam amidst the roots of a giant parasite plant, the
leaves and blossoms of which climbed up the sides of the cave with its
antediluvian relics. The gleam was the gleam of gold, and on removing the
loose earth round the roots of the plant, we came on--No, I will not, I
dare not, describe it. The gold-digger would cast it aside, the
naturalist would pause not to heed it; and did I describe it, and
chemistry deign to subject it to analysis, could chemistry alone detach or
discover its boasted virtues?
Its particles, indeed, are very minute, not seeming readily to crystallize
with each other; each in itself of uniform shape and size, spherical as
the egg which contains the germ of life, and small as the egg from which
the life of an insect may quicken.
But Margrave's keen eye caught sight of the atoms upcast by the light of
the moon. He exclaimed to me, "Found! I shall live!" And then, as he
gathered up the grains with tremulous hands, he called out to the Veiled
Woman, hitherto still seated motionless on the crag. At his word she rose
and went to the place bard by, where the fuel was piled, busying herself
there. I had no leisure to heed her. I continued my search in the soft
and yielding soil that time and the decay of vegetable life had
accumulated over the Pre-Adamite strata on which the arch of the cave
rested its mighty keystone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account