Hildebrand; or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth, An Historic Romance, Vol. 3 of 3 — John Shaqi
Hildebrand; or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth, An Historic Romance, Vol. 3 of 3Anonymous
History
Hildebrand; or, The Days of Queen Elizabeth, An Historic Romance, Vol. 3 of 3
Anonymous
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction
Would his mother appear to him in enmity? Would she who had
given him birth--who, during her life, had nursed and cherished
and sustained him, and who could no longer be influenced by any
earthly passion, burst the iron laws of nature to injure her
only son? Surely, not! Yet his heart, which had been unmoved by
the roar of hostile cannon, and had braved death in a hundred
dreadful shapes, ran cold with horror; his hair rose on end; and
his lips quivered so excessively that he could hardly bring them
to pronounce, in an intelligible and distinct tone, that terrible
and resistless name, which both the quick and the dead must obey.
A cold perspiration broke through his skin, as he observed that
his exclamation, though indistinctly uttered, had been heard by
the mysterious figure, and caused her to turn round. At the same
moment, the moon, bursting from the cloud which had obscured it,
poured forth its full light, and disclosed to him, in the pale
face of the woman, not the scarcely-remembered features of his
mother--but those of Donna Inez!
A dimness came over his eyes at this discovery; and the chill
of horror that crted over his brain, like a rush of cold blood,
fairly made him reel. But, by a desperate effort, he got the
mastery of his weakness; and his eyes, again effective, turned on
the grave once more. The figure had disappeared!
Was it an illusion? Had he, for all the testimony of his senses,
been the sport of a mere imagination, and really seen nothing?
With a beating heart, he turned his head hastily on either side,
and glanced over his shoulders. No! The phantom--if such it
were--had disappeared, and there was no trace of it to be seen.
A load was raised from his heart as he acquired this assurance.
Nevertheless, it was with a heaving bosom, and an unsteady and
hasty step, far different from his usual bearing, that he set
forward, and once more bent his way homeward.
He paused when he had passed out of the churchyard, and, with
unabated awe, again turned a glance around. Nothing but the white
grave-posts was visible; and he resumed his progress.
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