Virginia -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
As he lay with his eyes following the fiery, shifting feathers of cloud,
he remembered that the gaol at Jamestown faced the south, and he
thought, "This is the last sunset I shall ever see." He had the strong
abiding faith of his time and party, and he looked beyond the clouds
with an awe and a light in his eyes. Verses learnt at his mother’s knee
came back to him; he said them over to himself, and the tender, solemn,
beneficent words fell like balm upon his troubled heart. He thought of
his mother who had died young, and then of scenes and occurrences of his
childhood. All earthly hope was past, there could be no more struggling;
in a little while he would be dead. Dying, his mind reverted, not to the
sordid misery from which death would set him free, but to the long past,
to the child at the mother’s knee, to the boy who had climbed down great
cliffs in search of a smuggler’s cave. The unearthly light that rests
upon that time so far behind us shone strong for him—he saw every twig
in the rooks’ nests in the lofty elms, every ivy leaf about a ruined
oriel, black against a gold sky; the cool, dark smell of the box alleys
filled his nostrils: the sound of the sea came to him; he heard his
mother singing on the terrace. He bowed his face with a sudden rain of
tender, not sorrowful, tears.
Something crashed in at the window, splintering the coarse glass and
falling upon the floor at a little distance from him. It was a large
pebble, to which was tied a piece of paper. He started up and made for
it, to be brought up within two feet of it by the tug of the rope which
bound him to the wall. He thought a moment, then lay down upon the
floor and found that he could touch the end of the string that tied the
paper to the pebble. He took it between his teeth and slowly drew it
towards him, then, rising to his knees, he strained with all his might
at the cords that bound his arms. They were tightly drawn, but when at
length he desisted, panting, he had so loosened them that he could move
one hand a very little way. With it and with his teeth he disengaged
the paper from the pebble and spread it upon his knee. There was just
light enough to read the sprawling schoolboy hand with which it was
covered. It ran thus:—
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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