Morley Ernstein; or, the Tenants of the HeartJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
Morley Ernstein; or, the Tenants of the Heart
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Fiction
Such were the principal events connected with the fate of William
Barham which took place in London; but I must now suddenly change the
scene, and beseech the reader to accompany me to a distant spot, and
take up his abode for a short space in a small room--for the inn had
no other but small rooms--in a house known by the distinctive
appellation of "The Sandown Castle," in the small town of Deal.
It was night, and the wind had been blowing freshly from the westward
during the whole day; but as the sun went down it increased to a gale,
varying somewhat to the southward, with an unpromising blackness about
the sky in that quarter, mingling with the faint red of evening, in
the west and north. It was altogether as ominous and unpleasant a
night to commence a long voyage upon, as any one could wish to see;
and nobody whose destiny was not very well assured, would have chosen
the neighbourhood of the Goodwin Sands for his night's lodging on the
deep. Although the wind had got to the south, as I have said, the
night was one of those which are more generally met with in this
favoured climate than any other--that is to say, cold, raw, and damp,
in the very midst of the summer, giving us back all our recollections
of December in the heart of July.
The room of which I have spoken in the little inn, had been made as
comfortable as possible, under existing circumstances. The table had
been well rubbed, to take out the marks of tumblers, imprinted in
rum-and-water; the windows had been opened to "air the room"--a
proceeding which, to say the truth, was not a little required, as a
dull and heavy atmosphere of tobacco-smoke and mixed spirits reigned
within, and seemed very ill-disposed to go out, either at door or
window, in that cold and boisterous night. There was a small fire,
too, in the grate, and once or twice, as the evening drew in and night
fell heavy over the world, a very genteel-looking personage, with a
foreign countenance, and a grave, sedate air, entered the room, looked
about him to see that everything was right, put this thing and that
thing in order; smoothing down a great coat, that hung over the back
of a chair, stirring the fire, arranging the furniture, and doing all
those little acts which give notice that some personage is expected,
for whom everything must be prepared in the nicest manner.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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