Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 66, No. 410, December 1849Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 66, No. 410, December 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
absolute ruin? What power could answer the question? Glance of eye,
thought of man, wing of angel, which of these had speed enough to
sweep between the question and the answer, and divide the one from the
other? Light does not tread upon the steps of light more indivisibly,
than did our all-conquering arrival upon the escaping efforts of the
gig. _That_ must the young man have felt too plainly. His back was now
turned to us; not by sight could he any longer communicate with the
peril; but by the dreadful rattle of our harness, too truly had his ear
been instructed--that all was finished as regarded any further effort
of _his_. Already in resignation he had rested from his struggle; and
perhaps, in his heart he was whispering--"Father, which art above, do
thou finish in heaven what I on earth have attempted." We ran past
them faster than ever mill-race in our inexorable flight. Oh, raving
of hurricanes that must have sounded in their young ears at the moment
of our transit! Either with the swingle-bar, or with the haunch of our
near leader, we had struck the off-wheel of the little gig, which stood
rather obliquely and not quite so far advanced as to be accurately
parallel with the near wheel. The blow, from the fury of our passage,
resounded terrifically. I rose in horror, to look upon the ruins we
might have caused. From my elevated station I looked down, and looked
back upon the scene, which in a moment told its tale, and wrote all its
records on my heart for ever.
The horse was planted immovably, with his fore-feet upon the paved
crest of the central road. He of the whole party was alone untouched
by the passion of death. The little cany carriage--partly perhaps from
the dreadful torsion of the wheels in its recent movement, partly from
the thundering blow we had given to it--as if it sympathised with human
horror, was all alive with tremblings and shiverings. The young man
sat like a rock. He stirred not at all. But _his_ was the steadiness
of agitation frozen into rest by horror. As yet he dared not to look
round; for he knew that, if anything remained to do, by him it could no
longer be done. And as yet he knew not for certain if their safety were
accomplished. But the lady----
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account