Antiquarians -- Fiction; Beggars -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
This incident, however, was of great service to Lovel, as diverting
his mind from the unhappy occurrence of the evening, and considerably
rousing the energies which had been stupefied by the first view of his
calamity. He reflected that it by no means necessarily followed that a
dangerous wound must be a fatal one--that he had been hurried from
the spot even before the surgeon had expressed any opinion of Captain
M’Intyre’s situation--and that he had duties on earth to perform, even
should the very worst be true, which, if they could not restore his
peace of mind or sense of innocence, would furnish a motive for
enduring existence, and at the same time render it a course of active
benevolence.--Such were Lovel’s feelings, when the hour arrived when,
according to Edie’s calculation--who, by some train or process of his own
in observing the heavenly bodies, stood independent of the assistance
of a watch or time-keeper--it was fitting they should leave their
hiding-place, and betake themselves to the seashore, in order to meet
Lieutenant Taffril’s boat according to appointment.
They retreated by the same passage which had admitted them to the
prior’s secret seat of observation, and when they issued from the
grotto into the wood, the birds which began to chirp, and even to sing,
announced that the dawn was advanced. This was confirmed by the light
and amber clouds that appeared over the sea, as soon as their exit
from the copse permitted them to view the horizon.--Morning, said to be
friendly to the muses, has probably obtained this character from its
effect upon the fancy and feelings of mankind. Even to those who, like
Lovel, have spent a sleepless and anxious night, the breeze of the dawn
brings strength and quickening both of mind and body. It was, therefore,
with renewed health and vigour that Lovel, guided by the trusty
mendicant, brushed away the dew as he traversed the downs which divided
the Den of St. Ruth, as the woods surrounding the ruins were popularly
called, from the sea-shore.
The first level beam of the sun, as his brilliant disk began to emerge
from the ocean, shot full upon the little gun-brig which was lying-to
in the offing--close to the shore the boat was already waiting, Taffril
himself, with his naval cloak wrapped about him, seated in the stern. He
jumped ashore when he saw the mendicant and Lovel approach, and,
shaking the latter heartily by the hand, begged him not to be cast down.
“M’Intyre’s wound,” he said, “was doubtful, but far from desperate.”
His attention had got Lovel’s baggage privately sent on board the
brig; “and,” he said, “he trusted that, if Lovel chose to stay with the
vessel, the penalty of a short cruise would be the only disagreeable
consequence of his rencontre. As for himself, his time and motions
were a good deal at his own disposal, he said, excepting the necessary
obligation of remaining on his station.”
“We will talk of our farther motions,” said Lovel, “as we go on board.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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