The lost hunter: A tale of early timesAdams, John Turvill
General
The lost hunter: A tale of early times
Adams, John Turvill
Adventure stories; Indians of North America -- Fiction; New England -- Fiction
Thus, unfaltering in his confidence, secure of the result, believing
that to himself a revelation had been made, the Solitary expressed
himself. As the blood mounted into his ordinarily pale cheeks, his
lips quivered and his eyes were lighted up with a wild enthusiasm,
Pownal could not but admire and acknowledge the omnipotence of
that faith which regards no task as arduous, and can say unto the
mountains, Be ye cast into the sea! and it is done.
CHAPTER XXXI.
Oh my soul's joy!
If after every tempest come such calms,
May the winds blow till they have wakened death!
And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas
Olympus-high, and duck again as low
As hell's from heaven.
OTHELLO.
In accordance with the determination he had expressed, Holden began
soon to talk about putting his wild plan of roaming through the world
into execution, and was withheld from it only by the entreaties of
Pownal, that he would at least postpone it until after the arrival
of his uncle, who was daily expected, and until they had taken his
advice.
"I consent," said Holden, "both out of love to thee, and because
I would not willingly leave a roof that hath protected me, without
giving thanks to its owner."
A few days afterwards, Mr. Pownal returned with his family, by all
of whom the young man was welcomed with every evidence of the warmest
regard. Holden, too, as the friend of the younger Pownal, came in for
a share of attention. The family consisted of the father and mother,
and two children, a boy and girl, the former of whom could not be
more than ten years of age, while the latter was probably two years
younger.
Mr. Pownal himself was a fine, frank, hearty gentleman of some sixty
years, whose appearance indicated that the world had gone well with
him, and that he was satisfied with the world. The ordinary expression
of his face was that of quiet contentment, though at times it betrayed
a keen sagacity and shrewdness, partly the revelation of nature, and
partly the product of an intimate intercourse with that world with
which his business brought him, in various ways, in contact. It was
however apparent, that however much the associations and experiences
of trade had sharpened his intellect, they had not tarnished the
natural goodness of his heart. That spoke in the frank tones of his
manly voice and shone in the light of his clear blue eyes. One could
hardly look at him without a conviction that he was a man to be
trusted, and a desire to grasp his hand in friendship. Holden felt the
influence at the introduction, and no mean judge of character himself,
was glad to make the acquaintance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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