Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 6 June 1848Various
General
Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 6 June 1848
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Soon the heavy and dank air grew fresher; the wrathful clouds
separated, and the moon once more gleamed forth in resplendent beauty
and brightness. By degrees the gloom retired from the face of the
heavens, the stars looked down gloriously from their sapphire thrones,
and a silvery gush played amidst the swaying foliage, where the
rain-drops glistened on their leaflet platforms like so many diamonds.
Then the lucid milky-way, whose loveliness flushes the firmament, bent
itself across the concave above, one broad flame of pure transparent
white, as if some burning orb had fled along the sky with so swift a
flight, that, for a moment, it had left its lustre in the vault of
heaven. Gradually all was lulled into stillness, and nature became as
one great solitude.
Awe-stricken and bewildered, David White remounted his quivering
steed, and slowly wound his way along the ruin-covered road. One by
one the appearances which told a near approach to his destination came
into view; and finally he stood before the home of his childhood,
which was now to be the scene of a great and heinous crime. Carefully
hitching his horse in the dark shadows of some ancient oaks at the
head of the lane, he softly opened the gate, and glided round the
house until he stood at a little window which looked out from his
mother's chamber, and next the old stone chimney. For the night, she
was absent at a distant neighbor's, which circumstance, together with
that of her having withdrawn a large amount of funds from the
possession of the village minister, had induced the present visit.
But when he saw the shutter open, a thing wholly unexpected, it
flashed through his mind that he was watched--that this was an
allurement to ensnare him; so he shrunk back into the dense shadows of
the maples, and glanced hurriedly around him. Satisfied with his
investigation, he ventured to the window, and peered cautiously into
the chamber, but seeing nothing to excite his fears, gently raised the
sash, and leaped into the apartment. The moon shone so brightly that
he had no occasion to strike a light, but its silver disc was fast
verging toward the horizon, and warned him to haste, else be left to
return in darkness. Fumbling in his coat-pocket, he at length produced
a large bunch of keys, and stooping down, applied one to the heavy
oaken chest beneath the window-sill. Fortunately it suited the lock;
the bolt turned without difficulty, and he lifted the massive lid,
which he upheld with one hand, while he rummaged the till with the
other. At this moment a slight rustling reached his ears from the
furthest corner of the apartment from the window.
"What the deuce is that?" exclaimed he, starling up from his kneeling
posture, and turning anxiously in the direction whence the disturbance
had proceeded, at the same time thoughtlessly relinquishing his grasp
of the lid, which fell with a heavy crash upon the arm still resting
beneath.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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