Hildebrand; or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth, An Historic Romance, Vol. 1 of 3Anonymous
History
Hildebrand; or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth, An Historic Romance, Vol. 1 of 3
Anonymous
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
The pain of the wound, yielding to the soothing influence of the
dressing, which met the heated blood with a refreshing coolness,
had materially abated, but still the cavalier could not dispose
himself to sleep. Relieved from bodily pain, his mind, which
physical suffering had hitherto kept in subjection, began to
bestir itself, and led him into such a conflict of thought, as
amounted, in the end, almost to distraction. Hour succeeded hour,
and yet his eyes, in spite of his utmost efforts to obtain rest,
remained unsealed, and his senses alive to the finest perception.
Thoughts arose unbidden, and almost against his will, from the
deepest recesses of his heart, with recollections of the past,
and fears of the future, in which he had to play a most perilous
part, all mingled together. Yet this state of mind, if bodily
suffering was not its actual source, did spring partly from his
wound, and the peculiar excitement attending its infliction,
though it was mainly caused by an untimely contemplation of his
personal prospects. The same object continued to engage his
attention, in every variety of shape, and under every possible
aspect, till he was overtaken by exhaustion, and then--and not
till then--did he fall asleep.
It was yet early in the morning when he awoke. He was surprised
to find, on becoming completely awake, that his wound now gave
him no pain; and he was able to rise without inconvenience. A
small handbell, which stood on a chair beside his bed, brought an
aged domestic to his chamber, and, with the assistance of this
individual, he entered on his toilet, and was soon fully attired.
Learning that neither Sir Edgar nor his daughter had yet risen,
he left word with the servant, for their information, that he
should take a stroll in the park, and return to meet them at the
breakfast-table. With this intimation, he descended to the hall,
and thence, finding the hall-door open, passed into the park.
As he gazed inquisitively round, his eye fell on a walk that,
from its being hedged in by tall shrubs, wore a more secluded
look than the others; and, whether for this reason, or because it
was the nearest, he bent his steps thitherwards.
He did not pass into the walk without being observed. He had
taken but a few paces, when a man’s head, shrouded in a slouched
hat, was cautiously raised from the adjacent shrubs, and fixed so
as to view him without discovering itself. Whether he was or was
not alive to the objects around, this escaped his observation;
and probably in an excess of self-confidence, not caring to be
observed, or fearing to be molested, he passed along without
contracting any suspicion that he was watched and followed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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