But Bertram's first heavy sleep passed away long before midnight, nor
could he again recover that state of oblivion. Added to the uncertain
and uncomfortable state of his mind, his body felt feverish and
oppressed. This was chiefly owing to the close and confined air of the
small apartment in which they slept. After enduring for some time the
broiling and suffocating feeling attendant upon such an atmosphere, he
rose to endeavour to open the window of the apartment, and thus to
procure a change of air. Alas! the first trial reminded him that he was
in jail, and that the building being contrived for security, not
comfort, the means of procuring fresh air were not left at the disposal
of the wretched inhabitants.
Disappointed in this attempt, he stood by the unmanageable window for
some time. Little Wasp, though oppressed with the fatigue of his
journey on the preceding day, crept out of bed after his master, and
stood by him rubbing his shaggy coat against his legs, and expressing
by a murmuring sound the delight which he felt at being restored to
him. Thus accompanied, and waiting until the feverish feeling which at
present agitated his blood should subside into a desire for warmth and
slumber, Bertram remained for some time looking out upon the sea.
The tide was now nearly full, and dashed hoarse and near below the base
of the building. Now and then a large wave reached even the barrier or
bulwark which defended the foundation of the house, and was flung up on
it with greater force and noise than those which only broke upon the
sand. Far in the distance, under the indistinct light of a hazy and
often overclouded moon, the ocean rolled its multitudinous complication
of waves, crossing, bursting, and mingling with each other.
'A wild and dim spectacle,' said Bertram to himself, 'like those
crossing tides of fate which have tossed me about the world from my
infancy upwards. When will this uncertainty cease, and how soon shall I
be permitted to look out for a tranquil home, where I may cultivate in
quiet, and without dread and perplexity, those arts of peace from which
my cares have been hitherto so forcibly diverted? The ear of Fancy, it
is said, can discover the voice of sea-nymphs and tritons amid the
bursting murmurs of the ocean; would that I could do so, and that some
siren or Proteus would arise from these billows to unriddle for me the
strange maze of fate in which I am so deeply entangled! Happy friend!'
he said, looking at the bed where Dinmont had deposited his bulky
person, 'thy cares are confined to the narrow round of a healthy and
thriving occupation! Thou canst lay them aside at pleasure, and enjoy
the deep repose of body and mind which wholesome labour has prepared
for thee!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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