Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and IIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Murder -- Fiction
Their landing was, therefore, effected with ease and safety, and Lucy
could not help acknowledging to her own heart, that she was relieved
and rejoiced, even more than she had expected, on finding her foot
once more upon the firm land.
"Now you know your way to Alcombe, Master Hailes," said one of the men
in the boat, "you can't well miss it."
Hailes only replied by an "ay! ay!" and the boat pushed off again as
fast as possible toward the ship.
CHAPTER XXII.
True love is an unselfish passion; or, at all events--if the painful
doctrine of some philosophers be correct, and there be no affection of
the human mind without its share of selfishness--true love partakes
thereof as little or less than any other passion, and that share of
selfishness which it does admit, is of the noblest and most refined
kind. Yet we are inclined to believe that it is without selfishness;
for we cannot understand such a thing as being selfish by proxy. It
is, in fact, a contradiction in terms; and when we love another so
well as to be willing, ready, desirous of sacrificing our convenience,
our comfort, our safety, our happiness, ourselves for them, we may
admit the doctrine, that it gives us greater satisfaction to do so
than not, without admitting that we are selfish in so feeling.
It was about four o'clock in the morning, and Charles Tyrrell sat with
Lucy under the shelter of a projecting piece of rock, halfway up the
face of one of those cliffs which are common upon that coast, not very
difficult of ascent or descent, though enormously high, and presenting
perpendicular faces of rock in many parts. They are broken, at various
parts, by green flat slopes, by occasional trees and bushes, and by
steps or paths of sufficient breadth to enable two, if not three
people, to walk abreast.
The road which Hailes was to have taken toward the little village,
called Alcombe, passed up one of these paths, along the face of the
cliff. He had followed it, more than once, in former years, and had
imagined that he remembered it still; but such had not been the case;
and, after going on for some time, the whole party found that they
were decidedly astray.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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