Mystery and Confidence: A Tale. Vol. 1Pinchard, Elizabeth Sibthorpe
General
Mystery and Confidence: A Tale. Vol. 1
Pinchard, Elizabeth Sibthorpe
Fiction
In the evening of the next day, having in the course of it received his
portmanteau from Carnarvon, our traveller, whose name he gave his
landlord to understand was Mordaunt, began slowly to ascend a romantic
mountain, stopping at intervals to admire the beauty of the surrounding
prospect, and occasionally selecting from the mountain plants such
specimens as he had not met with before; for our traveller was an
excellent botanist, had a slight knowledge of mineralogy, and a genuine
taste for the charms of nature. In what farther sciences he was
instructed, and how he came by information so much above his present
sphere, we shall learn as we proceed.
Mordaunt had wandered more than an hour, when he reached some slight
remains of an ancient castle: it was a complete ruin, affording no
shelter, and scarcely a resting-place; however, on a large stone, which
had fallen from one of the crumbling pillars, he sat down and enjoyed
the beauty of the extensive prospect before him, and to which no
descriptive powers short of Mrs. Radcliffe's could do justice: here he
remained, catching, at intervals, a distant sail; for the sea, not far
off, formed one magnificent feature in the view; till the shades of
evening appeared to close upon him somewhat suddenly: surprised at the
gloom, he turned round, and observed that the top of the mountain behind
him was covered with heavy clouds, which soon becoming thicker, fell
around him in large drops of rain, mingled with low muttering thunder,
and distant gleams of lightning: the sea assumed a more terrific
appearance, and the lashing of the waves against the shore was more
distinctly heard: every thing, in short, seemed to foretell a tremendous
storm.
The gloomy woods
Start at the flash, and from their deep recess,
Wide flaming out their trembling inmates shake!
Amid Carnarvon's mountains rages loud
The repercussive roar; with mighty crush,
Into the flashing deep from the rude rocks
Of Penmanmawr heap'd hideous to the sky,
Tumble the smitten cliffs; and Snowden's peak,
Dissolving, instant yields his wintry load.
THOMSON.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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