Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
did kneel down and give humble thanks from the bottom of my heart to the
omnipotent God whose mercies are fathomless, for his vouchsafing me an
insight into so great a secret of nature and so beneficial to all
mankind as this my engine.'
With all her devotion to the king, and all her hatred and contempt of
the parliament and the puritans, Dorothy could not help a doubt whether
such independence might be altogether good either for the king himself
or the people thus subjected to his will. But the farther doubt did not
occur to her whether a pre-eminence gained chiefly by wealth was one to
be on any grounds desired for the nation, or, setting that aside, was
one which carried a single element favourable to perpetuity.
All this time they had been standing on the top of the keep, with the
moonlight around them, and in their ears the noise of the water flowing
from the dungeon well into the sky-roofed cistern. But now it came in
diminished flow.
'It is the earth that fails in giving, not my engine in taking,' said
lord Herbert as he turned to lead the way down the winding stair. Ever
as they went, the noise of the water grew fainter and the noise of the
engine grew louder, but just as they stepped from the stair, it gave a
failing stroke or two, and ceased. A dense white cloud met them as they
entered the vault.
'Stopped for the night, Caspar?' said his lordship.
'Yes, my lord; the well is nearly out.'
'Let it sleep,' returned his master; 'like a man's heart it will fill in
the night. Thank God for the night and darkness and sleep, in which good
things draw nigh like God's thieves, and steal themselves in--water into
wells, and peace and hope and courage into the minds of men. Is it not
so, my cousin?'
Dorothy did not answer in words, but she looked up in his face with a
reverence in her eyes that showed she understood him. And this was one
of the idolatrous catholics! It was neither the first nor the last of
many lessons she had to receive, in order to learn that a man may be
right although the creed for which he is and ought to be ready to die,
may contain much that is wrong. Alas! that so few, even of such men,
ever reflect, that it is the element common to all the creeds which
gives its central value to each.
'I cannot show you the working of the engine to-night,' said lord
Herbert. 'Caspar has decreed otherwise.'
'I can soon set her agoing again, my lord,' said Caspar.
'No, no. We must to the powder-mill, Caspar. Mistress Dorothy will come
again to-morrow, and you must yourself explain to her the working and
management of it, for I shall be away. And do not fear to trust my
cousin, Caspar, although she be a soft-handed lady. Let her have the
brute's halter in her own hold.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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