Arthur Blane; or, The Hundred CuirassiersGrant, James
History
Arthur Blane; or, The Hundred Cuirassiers
Grant, James
France -- History -- Louis XIII, 1610-1643 -- Fiction
'Force him! and this is one item of the happiness you would offer me.
That I love you, monsieur,' said she, weeping,' let these hot tears
attest, but cease to speak more of love or of marriage to me. Such
visions can never be realized; I could never brook the humiliation
you would prepare for me; for I have much of pride and hauteur in my
heart--albeit, you deem me so timid, meek, and gentle. I will strive
to be your friend; but this love I shall conquer, crush, forget
perhaps.'
'When?'
'When we separate;--alas! I cannot hope to achieve this fatal end
while I remain with you.'
'No--no, Nicola!' said I, pressing her to my heart, as the tenderness
and ingenuity of this admission, with the plaintive softness of her
voice, touched me inexpressibly; 'you shall never succeed in being so
cruel as to forget the pleasant days of our companionship, and the
love we have avowed.'
'It may be so.'
Then there ensued a long pause, and we continued to sit in darkness
and silence, hand-in-hand, our hearts and lips united as our
thoughts; until at last, overcome by agitation and fatigue, Nicola
feel asleep--asleep upon my breast!
Such a strange thing it is, this love.
I had met Nicola, and left her; met her again and again, to leave
her, without other thought than that she was beautiful; she had been
nothing to me then; but from the time that love began to spread its
halo round her, she seemed as necessary to me as the air or the
sunshine, yea, as life itself. We seemed now to have but one
existence, and the marvel to me became, how had I lived, and
breathed, and spent so many years without her; and without
discovering that her place in the world of my heart had been vacant.
It is very mysterious all this; but every lover has the same idea, or
he is no lover at all.
My whole being seemed now inspired by a new joy; and I no longer
remembered how time had passed with me before this fountain of
passion had welled up within our souls with the first kiss we
exchanged in that dark cavern, which, with all its attendant terrors,
had so suddenly brought our emotions to a crisis: and so passed our
night in the old haunted forest of king Charles VIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
WHAT HAPPENED AFTER.
With night and darkness the storm passed away, and, when morning
broke, no trace of it remained but the torn and twisted branches, the
thunder-riven oak, and the diamond-like dew, that dropped from every
leaf, and bowed the laden grass. Nicola awoke refreshed, but I was
pale, weary, and excited: the livelong night I had not slept, having
sat by the side of my companion, watching and half-supporting her,
full of happiness, and of many thoughts, some of which made me
anxious enough at times. But I kissed the sleeping eyes of Nicola,
and forgetting all but that she loved me, I proceeded to groom and
re-saddle our poor nags, which had borne the terrors and discomfort
of the past night with all the equanimity of old troop-horses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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