The Huguenot: A Tale of the French Protestants. Volumes I-III — John Shaqi
The Huguenot: A Tale of the French Protestants. Volumes I-IIIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Huguenot: A Tale of the French Protestants. Volumes I-III
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Huguenots -- Fiction
soon as he could find breath, with many thanks for the service I had
rendered her, that she was not hurt, and but a little frightened, the
horse having darted away while she had laid down the rein to put on
her gloves. She would not alight she said, but must return quickly to
her friends, who would be frightened, and, without saying more, she
again gracefully bent her head, turned her horse, and cantered rapidly
away. I saw her once afterwards, passing along with a gay cortege,
composed of persons that I did not know. As we passed each other she
recognised me instantly, and, with a heightened colour, noticed me by
another marked inclination of the head. When I had passed on, I could
judge by her own gestures and those of the persons around her, that
she was telling them what had occurred, and explaining to them the
sign of recognition which she had made. On this second occasion she
seemed to my eyes even more lovely than before. Her voice, too, though
I had heard it so little, was the most musical that ever spoke to the
heart of man, and I pondered and thought over the vision of loveliness
that I had just seen, till it took so strong a hold of my heart and my
imagination, that I could not rest satisfied without seeking to behold
it again. I rode through all the country round; I was every day, and
almost all day, on horseback; I called at every neighbouring house; I
inquired at every place where I was likely to meet with information,
but I could never see, or speak with, or hear of that fair creature
again, and the time came rapidly on when I was compelled to rejoin the
army. I thought of her often, however, I have thought of her ever
since; that lovely face, that sweet voice will never go from my mind,
and reason and fancy combine to make me resolve never to wed any one
that I do not think as lovely as herself."
"Pray what share had reason," demanded the Chevalier, "in a business
altogether so unreasonable? Poo! my dear Albert, you have worked
yourself into a boyish fancy of love, and then have clung to it, I
suppose, as the last bit of boyhood left about you. What had reason to
do with your seeing a pretty girl in a dark lane, and fancying there
was nothing like her upon earth?"
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