Foxholme Hall, and Other TalesKingston, William Henry Giles
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Foxholme Hall, and Other Tales
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Adventure stories; Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
"`Curses attend you, and follow all who sail with you,' she shrieked
out, in a loud shrill voice, which pierced through our ears, and made
the oldest seaman on board turn pale with apprehension. `False-hearted,
perjured murderer, betrayer of innocence, deceiver of a faithful heart,
destroyer of one who would have clung to you through weal and through
woe, through good report and evil report, through life unto death! Now
take the consequence. As you valued not the treasure of her love, you
shall rue the bitterness of my hate. You are proud of your knowledge,
you are proud of your hardy crew, you are proud of your stout ship, but
your knowledge shall not avail you in the fierce tempest I will raise;
the waters shall drown your hardy crew, and the hard rocks shall batter
in pieces your stout ship! Wherever you go I will follow you; in the
furthermost parts of the wide ocean you shall find me, in the howling of
the raging storm you shall hear me, in the flashes of the vivid
lightning you shall see me. My vengeance will not sleep, my hate will
not abate. Your bold heart shall quail and sink like a woman's, your
cheek shall blanch, when you feel that I am nigh, and hiss into your
ears the name of her you murdered, and you see borne before your eyes on
the whirlwind the writhing form of her who was once so lovely, dying in
agony on the wild heath alone and hopeless. Blasted shall be the beauty
of which you are proud, withered shall be your form, frozen your heart,
and she who now stands in youth and loveliness by your side shall learn
to repent she knew you, and shall share your fate. Sail onward on your
course, but never shall your eyes again behold your native land, or hear
the greeting of the friends you leave behind. But me you shall hear,
and me you shall see, when you would give all the wealth of India not to
see me or to hear me, and wish that I never existed. Go now--sail--
sail--sail away over the wide sea! Curses hover over you where'er you
go! Curses attend your hardy crew! Curses follow after the stout ship
which hears you!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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