Paul Clifford — Volume 05Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Paul Clifford — Volume 05
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Brigands and robbers -- Fiction
In silence Clifford offered his arm to Lucy, and silently she accepted
the courtesy. The squire was the only talker; and the theme he chose was
not ungrateful to Lucy, for it was the praise of her lover. But Clifford
scarcely listened, for a thousand thoughts and feelings contested within
him; and the light touch of Lucy's hand upon his arm would alone have
been sufficient to distract and confuse his attention. The darkness of
the night, the late excitement, the stolen kiss that still glowed upon
his lips, the remembrance of Lucy's flattering agitation in the scene
with her at Lord Mauleverer's, the yet warmer one of that unconscious
embrace, which still tingled through every nerve of his frame, all
conspired with the delicious emotion which he now experienced at her
presence and her contact to intoxicate and inflame him. Oh, those
burning moments in love, when romance has just mellowed into passion, and
without losing anything of its luxurious vagueness mingles the enthusiasm
of its dreams with the ardent desires of reality and earth! That is the
exact time when love has reached its highest point,--when all feelings,
all thoughts, the whole soul, and the whole mind, are seized and
engrossed,--when every difficulty weighed in the opposite scale seems
lighter than dust,--when to renounce the object beloved is the most
deadly and lasting sacrifice,--and when in so many breasts, where honour,
conscience, virtue, are far stronger than we can believe them ever to
have been in a criminal like Clifford, honour, conscience, virtue, have
perished at once and suddenly into ashes before that mighty and
irresistible fire.
The servant, who had had previous opportunities of ascertaining the
topography of the "public" of which he spake, and who was perhaps
tolerably reconciled to his late terror in the anticipation of renewing
his intimacy with "the spirits of the past," now directed the attention
of our travellers to a small inn just before them. Mine host had not yet
retired to repose, and it was not necessary to knock twice before the
door was opened.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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