Complete Short Works of George MeredithMeredith, George
General
Complete Short Works of George Meredith
Meredith, George
English fiction -- 19th century
He did not pause to bewail or repent, but returned toward the prison
with rapid footsteps, muttering: ‘I with the prison-pass for two; why
was I beguiled by that bandit? Saw I not the very youth given into my
hands there, he that was with the damsel and the aged woman?’
THE RIDE AND THE RACE
Late in the noon a horseman, in the livery of the Kaiser’s body-guard,
rode dry and dusty into Cologne, with tidings that the Kaiser was at
Hammerstein Castle, and commanding all convocated knights, barons,
counts, and princes, to assemble and prepare for his coming, on a
certain bare space of ground within two leagues of Cologne, thence to
swell the train of his triumphal entry into the ancient city of his
empire.
Guy the Goshawk, broad-set on a Flemish mare, and a pack-horse beside
him, shortly afterward left the hotel of the Three Holy Kings, and
trotted up to Gottlieb’s door.
‘Tent-pitching is now my trade,’ said he, as Gottlieb came down to him.
‘My lord is with the Kaiser. I must say farewell for the nonce. Is the
young lady visible?’
‘Nor young, nor old, good friend,’ replied Gottlieb, with a countenance
somewhat ruffled. ‘I dined alone for lack of your company. Secret
missives came, I hear, to each of them, and both are gadding. Now what
think you of this, after the scene of yesterday?--Lisbeth too!’
‘Preaches from the old text, Master Groschen; “Never reckon on womankind
for a wise act.” But farewell! and tell Mistress Margarita that I take
it ill of her not giving me her maiden hand to salute before parting. My
gravest respects to Frau Lisbeth. I shall soon be sitting with you over
that prime vintage of yours, or fortune’s dead against me.’
So, with a wring of the hand, Guy put the spur to his round-flanked
beast, and was quickly out of Cologne on the rough roadway.
He was neither the first nor the last of the men-at-arms hastening to
obey the Kaiser’s mandate. A string of horse and foot in serpentine
knots stretched along the flat land, flashing colours livelier than the
spring-meadows bordering their line of passage. Guy, with a nod for all,
and a greeting for the best-disposed, pushed on toward the van, till the
gathering block compelled him to adopt the snail’s pace of the advance
party, and gave him work enough to keep his two horses from being jammed
with the mass. Now and then he cast a weather-eye on the heavens, and
was soon confirmed in an opinion he had repeatedly ejaculated, that ‘the
first night’s camping would be a drencher.’ In the West a black bank
of cloud was blotting out the sun before his time. Northeast shone bare
fields of blue lightly touched with loosefloating strips and flakes of
crimson vapour. The furrows were growing purple-dark, and gradually a
low moaning obscurity enwrapped the whole line, and mufed the noise of
hoof, oath, and waggon-wheel in one sullen murmur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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