Riperdá, Juan Guillermo, Duke of, 1680-1737 -- Fiction; Wharton, Philip Wharton, Duke of, 1698-1731 -- Fiction
"Our cockle gatherers do the same continually," cried Alice, "but
certainly never with the tide in the state it is now; and so, most
likely, that is some poor smuggler flying from the revenue officers."
While Cornelia gently rebuked her, for bestowing an epithet of pity
on such desperate violators of the law, the sisters descended to
the beach, to gratify the curiosity of Ferdinand, who wished to see
the hardy cavalier come to land. As they hastened along the cliffs,
they saw the roaring waves, bright in the sun beams, break over the
horse and the rider; and as the noble animal rose from the abyss, and
resolutely breasted the surge, the lashing waters whitened his sides
with their foam. In one of these fearful moments, a huge wave, rolling
towards the island, raised the man and horse upon its immense bosom, to
a height almost level with the rock; and then plunged with them into a
depth that seemed to cover them for ever.
"Merciful Heaven, it is Louis!" cried Alice--in that fatal instant she
had recognised him, and with frantic shrieks ran forward, as if to meet
him in the ocean.
Finding that the extraordinary swell of the last wave, had not merely
torn the footing of his stout hunter from the ground, but had exhausted
his strength, Louis slid from his back while he was yet overwhelmed by
the weight of the surge; and grasping the bridle, swam with him through
the deep water. Coming to the breakers, he waded the rest; and having
drawn his faithful horse on the shelving rocks, was patting his heaving
sides, when he perceived the terrified party rushing down the nearest
path to his assistance. Ferdinand had beheld the whole with wonder.
And now that he stood apart, and saw him, with dripping garments,
and uncovered head, reining and soothing the alarmed animal, that he
might not injure the sisters; the astonished Spaniard could not help
exclaiming to himself:
"Mounting with springing step the broad ascent,
A buoyant form of matchless shape I spied,
Attired like one whose ardent soul is bent
To win in fleetest race, by glory's side.
Flinging its changeless splendor far and wide
From his bright forehead flamed the polar star;
Through his clear cheek the ruby-tinctured tide
Shone with a healthful glow; while on the air
Back from his radiant eyes, was blown the clustering hair!"
"Louis! Louis!" exclaimed both sisters at once. Alice clasped her hands
and sobbed aloud.
"Why, my dearest cousin, encounter all this danger?" cried Cornelia.
"I had no other way of getting to you." "Hear him!" cried Alice,
running back to Ferdinand, and grasping his arm; "I knew it was not his
own will that detained him from us. Dear, dear, Louis!" and weeping
again with the excess of her joy, she unconsciously allowed Ferdinand
to support her with his arm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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