One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri QuatreJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri Quatre
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
France -- History -- Henry IV, 1589-1610 -- Fiction
A little more than a month, then, after the funeral of the old Marquis
of St. Real, in a part of the forest where a few years before the axe
had been busy amongst the taller trees, there appeared a group of
several persons, two of whom have already been introduced to the
notice of the reader. The spot in which they were seated was a small
dry grassy strip of meadow by the side of a clear little stream, which
at a hundred yards distance crossed the high road from Touraine. From
the bank of the stream the ground rose very gradually for some way,
leaving a space of perhaps fifty yards in breadth free of underwood or
bush. It then took a bolder sweep, and became varied with manifold
trees and shrubs; and then, breaking into rock as it swelled upwards,
it towered into a high and craggy hill, diversified with clumps of the
fine tall beeches which the axe had spared, and clothed thickly,
wherever the soil admitted it, with rich underwood, springing up from
the roots of larger trees long felled. On the other side again, the
ground sloped away so considerably, that had the stream flowed
straight on, it would have formed a cataract; and as the eye rested on
the clear water, winding in a thousand turns within a very short
distance of the edge of the descent, and seeming to seek a way over
without being able to find it, one felt as we do in gazing upon a
child in a meadow looking for something it has lost, which we
ourselves see full well, yet cannot resolve to point out, lest the
little seeker should desist from all the graceful vagaries of his
search. Various bends and knolls, however, confined the rivulet to the
course it had taken; but still the whole ground on that side was low,
and at one point sunk much beneath the spot where the travellers
before mentioned were seated, affording--over the green tree-tops--a
beautiful view of a long expanse of varied ground, lying sweet in the
misty light of summer, with many a wide and undulating sweep, fainter
and more faint, till some grey spires marked the position of a distant
town, and cut the line of the horizon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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