Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction
Julian could feel nothing but wonder and compassion for the impotent
passion of a being so unfortunately circumstanced, cut off, as it were,
from the rest of mankind, and incapable of receiving in childhood that
moral discipline which teaches us mastery of our wayward passions, ere
yet they have attained their meridian strength and violence. He waved
his hand to her, in token of amicable farewell; but she only replied by
once more menacing him with her little hand clenched; and then ascending
the rocky staircase with almost preternatural speed, was soon out of
sight.
Julian, on his part, gave no farther consideration to her conduct or its
motives, but hastening to the village on the mainland, where the stables
of the Castle were situated, he again took his palfrey from the
stall, and was soon mounted and on his way to the appointed place of
rendezvous, much marvelling, as he ambled forward with speed far greater
than was promised by the diminutive size of the animal he was mounted
on, what could have happened to produce so great a change in Alice’s
conduct towards him, that in place of enjoining his absence as usual, or
recommending his departure from the island, she should now voluntarily
invite him to a meeting. Under impression of the various doubts which
succeeded each other in his imagination, he sometimes pressed Fairy’s
sides with his legs; sometimes laid his holly rod lightly on her neck;
sometimes incited her by his voice, for the mettled animal needed
neither whip nor spur, and achieved the distance betwixt the Castle of
Holm-Peel and the stone at Goddard Crovan, at the rate of twelve miles
within the hour.
The monumental stone, designed to commemorate some feat of an ancient
King of Man, which had been long forgotten, was erected on the side of
a narrow lonely valley, or rather glen, secluded from observation by
the steepness of its banks, upon a projection of which stood the tall,
shapeless, solitary rock, frowning, like a shrouded giant, over the
brawling of the small rivulet which watered the ravine.
CHAPTER XVII
This a love-meeting? See the maiden mourns,
And the sad suitor bends his looks on earth.
There’s more hath pass’d between them than belongs
To Love’s sweet sorrows.
--OLD PLAY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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