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
At the second window was a somewhat untidy maid-servant, contrasting
strongly, in her slatternly disarray, with the plain neatness which
decked the two other figures, whose garb I shall not pause to
describe; let it suffice that it was of white, and fashioned in the
mode of the time, A. D.164-, though either poverty, simplicity of
taste, or deference to the puritanical mania of the day, had deprived
it of every extraneous ornament.
The night upon which the whole party looked out was dark and sad; for
the moon had gone down, and the clouds over head, though not
particularly heavy, were quite sufficiently so to hide every star, and
cast a deep gray shadow over the wide extent of undulating moorland
which, in the day-time, stretched away for many a mile within view. A
few faint streaks of pale light upon the edge of sky separated the
darkness of the heavens from the darkness of the earth, and marked
where the prospect ended; and thitherward were turned the eyes of all,
watching with strained and anxious gaze a particular point on the dim
horizon, where, every now and then, bright red flashes, sudden and
sharp, but circumscribed and momentary, broke upon the night, followed
by a distant report as quick and transitory.
No one spoke while those flashes continued; but the silence itself
seemed to show the intense anxiety which was felt, by the tenants of
that chamber, in regard to the events of which they obtained so dim
and unsatisfactory a view. At the end of five minutes, however, the
sudden bursts of light entirely ceased; the reports were no longer
heard; and the elder of the two ladies, turning away from the window,
said, in a low voice, "It is over: God's will is wrought by this
time!"
The younger said nothing; but, clasping her fair hands together,
raised her eyes towards the dark, heavens, while her full sweet lips
moved silently, offering up a petition to that never-closed ear which
hears the still voice of the heart's thoughts as plainly as the
loudest-tongued appeal.
In a moment after, the clattering sound of horses' feet was heard
coming quickly down the road. At first it was faint and distant--the
dull heavy tramp of several fleet steeds galloping over moist
ground; but soon it came nearer and nearer--left the turf of the
common--clanged over the firm and stony road--came close to the
house--passed it--and died away in the distance.
"They are flying!" said the younger lady. "Oh, my mother, they are
flying! Surely some of the dark powers of the air must assist those
bloodthirsty fanatics. They are flying; do you not hear the horses
galloping on?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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