Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical RomanceJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
France -- History -- Louis XIII, 1610-1643 -- Fiction
"You were told to do as I bade you," answered the lad, as stoutly as if
he had been a captain of horse,--adding the saving clause, "in every
thing except the navigation of your vessel. I must be put ashore where
you see that light. So send down for my bags, have the boat all ready,
and when I am landed go on to Rochelle and wait till you hear more."
The captain of the vessel did not hesitate to obey. The ship ran
speedily for the shore and approached perhaps nearer than was altogether
safe; the boat was lowered to the water, and the lad sprang in without
bidding adieu to any one. There was a heavy sea running upon the coast,
and it required no slight skill and strength on the part of the two
stout rowers to land him in safety; but he showed neither fear nor
hesitation, though probably he knew the extent of the danger and the
service better than any one; for, when he sprang out into the shallow
water where the boat grounded, he gave each of the men a gold-piece, and
then watched them with somewhat anxious eyes till they had got their
boat through the surf into the open sea.
CHAPTER II.
What an extraordinary world it is! Men in general are mere shellfish,
unapproachable except at certain tender points; such as the eyes of the
crab, or the soft yellow skin under an alligator's gullet,--Achilles'
heels which have been neglected by the mothers of those sapient reptiles
when they were dipped in Styx. But perhaps it is as well as it is; for
if a man were tender all over, and once began to think of all the misery
that is going on around him, the faces he would make would be horrible
to see. Reader, at this very moment there are thousands dying in agony,
there are many starving for lack of food, there is a whole host of
gentle hearts watching the expiring lamp of life in the eyes of those
most dearly loved, there are multitudes of noble spirits and mighty
minds struggling in doubt for to-morrow's daily crust, there is crime,
folly, sorrow, anguish, shame, remorse, despair, around us on every
side; and yet we are as merry as a grasshopper unless somebody snaps off
one of our own legs. There is not an instant of time that does not bring
with it a thousand waves of agony over the stormy sea of human
existence; and yet every man's light boat dances on, and the mariner
sings, till one of the many billows overwhelms him. It is quite as well
as it is.
Some, however, are blessed--or cursed, as it may be--with a faculty of
feeling for others; and that boy, as he took his way up from the shore
toward the little hillock of sand on which a bonfire of pine logs was
blazing,--with two heavy bags on his arms, and the rain dashed by the
fierce wind in his face,--could not help thinking of the roofless heads
and chilled hearts he knew were in the world.
"Poor souls!" he thought; "in an hour I shall be warm and dry and
comfortable, and to-morrow all this will be forgotten; but for them
there is no comfort, no better to-morrow."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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