Meantime, nature found some channels, worn by his grief, through which her
comforts, that, like waters, press on all sides, and enter at every cranny
and fissure in the house of life, might gently flow into him with their
sympathetic soothing. Often he would creep away to the nest which Hugh had
built and then forsaken; and seated there in the solitude of the
wide-bourgeoned oak, he would sometimes feel for a moment as if lifted up
above the world and its sorrows, to be visited by an all-healing wind from
God, that came to him, through the wilderness of leaves around him—-gently,
like all powerful things.
But I am putting the boy’s feelings into forms and words for him. He had
none of either for them.
CHAPTER XIII. A STORM.
When the mind’s free,
The body’s delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else
Save what beats there.
King Lear.
While Harry took to wandering abroad in the afternoon sun, Hugh, on the
contrary, found the bright weather so distasteful to him, that he
generally trifled away his afternoons with some old romance in the dark
library, or lay on the couch in his study, listless and suffering. He
could neither read nor write. What he felt he must do he did; but nothing
more.
One day, about noon, the weather began to change. In the afternoon it grew
dark; and Hugh, going to the window, perceived with delight—the
first he had experienced for many days—that a great thunder-storm
was at hand. Harry was rather frightened; but under his fear, there
evidently lay a deep delight. The storm came nearer and nearer; till at
length a vivid flash broke from the mass of darkness over the woods,
lasted for one brilliant moment, and vanished. The thunder followed, like
a pursuing wild beast, close on the traces of the vanishing light; as if
the darkness were hunting the light from the earth, and bellowing with
rage that it could not overtake and annihilate it. Without the usual
prelude of a few great drops, the rain poured at once, in continuous
streams, from the dense canopy overhead; and in a few moments there were
six inches of water all round the house, which the force of the falling
streams made to foam, and fume, and flash like a seething torrent. Harry
had crept close to Hugh, who stood looking out of the window; and as if
the convulsion of the elements had begun to clear the spiritual and moral,
as well as the physical atmosphere, Hugh looked down on the boy kindly,
and put his arm round his shoulders. Harry nestled closer, and wished it
would thunder for ever. But longing to hear his tutor’s voice, he ventured
to speak, looking up to his face:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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