The Camp of Refuge: A Tale of the Conquest of the Isle of ElyMacFarlane, Charles
History
The Camp of Refuge: A Tale of the Conquest of the Isle of Ely
MacFarlane, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Medieval period, 1066-1485 -- Fiction
forest of willows and alders gave him a pleasant or a varied prospect,
or when the bright king-fisher flitted across his path, or the wild
duck rose from the fen and flew heaven-ward,[3] or the heron raised
itself on its long legs to look at him from the sludge, or the timid
cygnet went sailing away in quest of the parent swan, his countenance
lighted up like that of a happy thoughtless boy. Ever and anon too some
inward emotion made him chuckle or laugh outright. Thus between sadness
and gladness the novice went on his way—a rough and miry way proper to
give a permanent fit of ill-humour to a less buoyant spirit, for he had
quitted the road or causeway which traversed the fens and was pursuing
a devious path, which was for the greater part miry in summer, but a
complete morass at the present season of the year. Notwithstanding all
his well-practised agility, and in spite of the good aid of his long
staff, he more than once was soused head over ears in a broad
water-course. With a good road within view, it may be thought that he
had some strong motive for choosing this very bad one; and every time
that his path approached to the road, or that the screen of alders and
willows failed him, he crouched low under the tall reeds and bulrushes
of the fen, and stole along very cautiously, peeping occasionally
through the rushes towards the road, and turning his ear every time
that the breeze produced a loud or unusual sound. As thus he went on,
the day declined fast, and the slanting sun shone on the walls of a
tall stone mansion, battlemented and moated—a dwelling-house, but a
house proper to stand a siege:[4] and in these years of trouble none
could dwell at peace in any house if unprovided with the means of
holding out against a blockade, and of repelling siege and assault. All
round this manor-house, to a wide space, the trees had been cut down
and the country drained; part of the water being carried off to a
neighbouring mere, and part being collected and gathered, by means of
various cuts, to fill the deep moat round the house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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