The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863Morford, Henry
History
The Coward: A Novel of Society and the Field in 1863
Morford, Henry
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
Two or three windings of the road, two or three slight ascents and descents
in elevation; some one said: "Here is the best view;" and the whole
company paused in their scattering march. A sudden break, opening upon a
dark quiet little lake or tarn, was to be seen through the trees to the
right; and a quarter of a mile away, hanging sheer over the gulf of more
than two thousand feet sweeping down towards the foot of the Cannon--there,
with the massive iron face staring full into the moonlight that touched
nose and cheek and brow with so strange and doubtful a light that the
unpractised eye could not trace the outlines, while the accustomed could
see them almost as plainly as in the sunlight--there loomed the awful
countenance of the Old Man of the Mountain. Some there were in that
company, familiar with every changing phase of that most marvellous freak
of nature, who thought that grand as it had before seemed to them when the
sun was high in the heavens and the dark outline relieved against the
bright western sky, it was yet grander then, in the still, doubtful, solemn
moonlight.
Among those who had gone down to the edge of the little Old Man's Mirror
for this view, were two of the sterner sex who happened to be without
ladies under charge and to be separated from any other company. Directly,
walking near each other, they fell together and exchanged casual remarks on
the beauty of the night and the peculiarities of different points of
scenery. They were the two who had first seen each other at the moment of
alighting at the Profile little more than an hour before--"H. T." of the
initials and the lady's smashed foot, and Halstead Rowan of the gymnastic
spring from the coach-top. The first glance had told to each that there was
something of mark in the other; and under the peculiar circumstances of
that night they drifted together, without introduction except such as each
could furnish for himself, but not likely to separate again without a much
more intimate acquaintance,--just as many other waifs and fragments,
floating down the great stream of life, have been thrown into what seemed
accidental collision by a chance eddy, and yet never separated again until
each had exercised upon the other an influence materially controlling the
whole after course of destiny.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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