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
A sensation of pleasure rose in her bosom at this unexpected
prospect of a comfortable retreat. Before the feeling had well
sprung up, however, it was overtaken by an opposite one; for
as she was about to avail herself of the passage afforded by
the open door, something like the rustling of drapery saluted
her ear, and she shrank back in dismay. Looking quickly round,
she fancied that she saw a shadow, which had protruded from the
deeper gloom, hastily flit back, a few yards further up the walk;
but if this had really happened, it retreated so fleetly, and
the variety of shadows thrown out by the trees and shrubs were
so perplexing, that she could not but regard it with uncertainty
and doubt. Nevertheless, she kept her eye on the spot for several
minutes, intently surveying its every outline, without discerning
anything confirmatory of her fears; and, somewhat reassured, she
turned to the door again.
Passing in, she softly closed the door, and glanced around. Some
embers of a fire were gleaming in the andirons, on the side of
the room opposite to the door, and the light they afforded,
though no more than rendered the darkness visible, served as a
mark for her steps, and enabled her to grope her way forward. As
she came up to the andirons, her dress caught in something at her
feet, and, stooping to see what it was, she found that there was
a heap of furze, or dried heather, on one side of the andirons,
ready for use in the morning. She threw a handful of this into
the fireplace; and the dim embers, revived by her breath, which
she blew upon them with all her force, mounted into a flame. A
log of wood which she found at hand, and which she laid on the
top of the furze, soon provided her with a good and cheerful
fire.
The light thus furnished enabled Inez to look round the kitchen
more narrowly. It inspired her, too, with more courage--if that
which was derived from an extraneous influence, not from any
source within, might be called courage. Still her glance was
timid and hasty, and the cheering effect of the fire, though it
rendered her situation more tolerable, had evidently not relieved
her of her many depressing apprehensions. Indeed, this very light
itself, by revealing to her the outlines of every part of the
room, soon presented her with some ground, beyond that which
sprang from her natural timidity, for her very worst fears. As
her survey progressed, she observed the door of a neighbouring
closet, on which the fire shed its full light, slightly pulled
back, as though it had been a little open, and was drawn close by
some person within. Her terror was excessive, but it was of that
kind which, by representing escape to be impracticable, impelled
her forward, and she made one desperate spring to the closet-door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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