Children's stories, English; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- Great Britain; Short stories
A sort of quivering passed over their faces, which seemed to be their
mode of laughing. The whole shape of the face shook and fluctuated as
if it had been some dark fluid; till by slow degrees of gathering calm,
it settled into its former rest. Then one of them drew aside the
curtains of the bed, and the window-curtains not having been yet drawn,
the king beheld the white glimmering night outside, struggling with the
heaps of darkness that tried to quench it; and the heavens full of
stars, flashing and sparkling like live jewels. The other Shadow went
towards the fire and vanished in it.
Scores of Shadows immediately began an insane dance all about the room;
disappearing, one after the other, through the uncovered window, and
gliding darkly away over the face of the white snow; for the window
looked at once on a field of snow. In a few moments, the room was quite
cleared of them; but instead of being relieved by their absence, the
king felt immediately as if he were in a dead-house, and could hardly
breathe for the sense of emptiness and desolation that fell upon him.
But as he lay looking out on the snow, which stretched blank and wide
before him, he spied in the distance a long dark line which drew nearer
and nearer, and showed itself at last to be all the Shadows, walking in
a double row, and carrying in the midst of them something like a bier.
They vanished under the window, but soon reappeared, having somehow
climbed up the wall of the house; for they entered in perfect order by
the window, as if melting through the transparency of the glass.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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