The Desultory Man: Collection of Ancient and Modern British Novels and Romances. Vol. CXLVII.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Desultory Man: Collection of Ancient and Modern British Novels and Romances. Vol. CXLVII.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Fiction
"I have done my duty!" he cried at last, and hurrying down to the
banks of the river, descended to the very edge, and laid his lifeless
burden in the water--gently, and cautiously, as if he were afraid of
waking her. He gazed upon her--smote his hand upon his breast. "I have
done my duty!" he said, "I have done my duty!" But hell was in his
heart, and he fled.
---------------
When the Union American merchantman was lost on her passage from Havre
to Charleston, there was one man who refused to enter any of the
boats. He had taken his passage at Havre the very day the ship sailed,
and, during the five days which elapsed between her leaving the port
and her being wrecked, he was never heard to proffer a word to any
one. He passed the days and the greater part of the nights, in walking
backwards and forwards, with his eyes fixed upon the deck, and at that
awful moment, when tempest and destruction surrounded them all, the
deadly strife within his own bosom seemed to have rendered him
insensible to the war of elements without.
Some one kindly pressed him to enter one of the boats. "Leave me,
leave me," said he in French; "my grave is made!"
God knows whether it was he, but the passengers who escaped represent
him as of the same age and form as Armand Villars.
---------------
On entering the cemetery of Père la Chaise, proceed directly to the
foot of the first hill, and, turning into the alley to the left, you
will find a plain obelisk of white marble, without epitaph or
inscription, except the simple name "Julie!" It stands in a little
garden of flowers, enclosed with a fence of iron; and I have myself
seen a young officer, with more than one decoration on his breast,
removing those that were withered, and binding fresh wreaths round its
little boundary. It never wanted flowers in any season, for he came
every day to deck it himself, though the colour gradually forsook his
cheek, and pale corroding care was marked in every feature. One day he
came no more, and shortly after he was laid in the earth beside her he
loved. But before he died, he expressly forbade _his_ name also to be
inscribed on the monument which he had raised to his lost Julie.
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