The Courtship of Morrice Buckler: A RomanceMason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
History
The Courtship of Morrice Buckler: A Romance
Mason, A. E. W. (Alfred Edward Woodley)
Great Britain -- History -- James II, 1685-1688 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
But I hardly needed even that protection to screen me from these
truants. I might have stood visible in the lawn's centre, and yet been
asked no question. For such as braved the frost came not out to spy
for strangers; their eyes sought each other with too intimate an
insistance.
I had indeed timed my visit ill. The revels of the village were being
repeated in the Castle.
The sharp contrast of my particular purpose forced its reality grimly
upon me, and made this vigil one long agony. I had planned to tell
Larke the true object of my coming during the hour or so we should
have to wait, and to draw some solace from his companionship. Now,
however, I was planted there alone with a message of death for my foe
or for myself, and the glamour of life in my eyes, and it seemed to me
that all the tedium of my journey had been held over for these hours
of waiting.
To cap my discomfort I found occasion to prove to myself that I was a
most indisputable prig. I had often discoursed to Larke concerning the
consolations to be drawn from the classics in moments of distress. Now
I sought to practise the precept, and to that end lowered a bucket
into the well of my memories. But alas! I hauled up naught but tags
about Cerberus and Charon, and passages from the sixth book of Vergil.
To tell the honest truth, I was dismally afraid. The very stars in the
sky flashed sword-points at my breast, and the ice upon the hills
glittered like breastplates of steel. Moreover, my hands were swollen
and clumsy with the cold, and I dreaded lest I might lose the nervous
flexibility of their muscles, and so the nice command of my sword. I
stripped off my gloves which were freezing on my fingers, and thrust
my hands inside my shirt to keep them warm against my skin.
Somehow or another, however, the night wore through. The stars and the
moon shifted across the mountains, the music began to falter into
breaks, and the murmurs grew louder from the village. I heard sledges
descend the road with a jingle of bells, first one, then another, then
several in quick succession. Iron gates clanked on the far side of the
Castle, the windows darkened, and finally a light sprang up in the
lower of the chambers which I watched.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account