The Deliverance: A Romance of the Virginia Tobacco FieldsGlasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
General
The Deliverance: A Romance of the Virginia Tobacco Fields
Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
Tobacco farmers -- Fiction; Virginia -- Fiction
"No, you can't understand," returned Christopher, shaking his
head. They would not understand, he knew, none of them--neither
the world, nor Cynthia, nor his mother who was dead, nor Maria
who was living. They would not understand, and even to himself
the mystery was still unsolved. He had acted according to the law
of his own nature; this was all that was clear to him; and the
destiny of character had controlled him from the beginning. The
wheel had turned and he with it, and being as blind as fate
itself he could see nothing further.
Back once more in the familiar country, fresh from the strong
grasp of friendly hands, and driving at sunset along the red road
beneath half-bared honey-locusts, he was conscious, with a dull
throb of regret, that the placid contentment he felt creeping
over him failed in emotional resemblance to the happiness he had
associated with his return. Had the sap really gone dry within
him, and would he go on forever with this curious numbness at his
heart?
"Maria wanted you to go straight to the Hall," said Cynthia,
turning suddenly, "but I told her I'd better take you home and
put you to bed at once. It was she who went to the Governor and
got your pardon," she added after a moment, "but when I begged
her to come with me to take it to you she would not do it. She
would not see you until you were back in your own place, she
said."
He smiled faintly, and, leaning back among the rugs Cynthia had
brought, watched the white mist creeping over the ploughed
fields. The thought of Maria no longer stirred his pulses, and
when presently they reached the whitewashed cottage, and he sat
with Tucker before the wood fire in his mother's parlour, he
found himself gazing with a dull impersonal curiosity at the
portraits smiling so coldly down upon the hearth. The memory of
his mother left him as immovable as did the many trivial
associations which thronged through his brain at sight of the
room which had been hers. A little later, lying in her tester
bed, the fall of the acorns on the shingled roof above sent him
into a profound and untroubled sleep.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account