The Station; The Party Fight And Funeral; The Lough Derg Pilgrim: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume ThreeCarleton, William
General
The Station; The Party Fight And Funeral; The Lough Derg Pilgrim: Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of; William Carleton, Volume Three
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
It may be evident to the reader, that, however satisfactory the force
of philosophical reasoning might have been upon the subject of the
solitude, I was too much the creature of sensation for an hour before,
to look on such a startling object with firm nerves. For the first two
or three minutes, therefore, T exhibited as finished a specimen of the
dastardly as could be imagined. My hair absolutely raised my cap
some inches off my head; my mouth opened to an extent which I did not
conceive it could possibly reach; I thought my eyes shot out from their
sockets, and my fingers spread out and became stiff, though powerless.
The “_obstupui_” was perfectly realized in me, for, with the exception
of a single groan, which I gave on first seeing the object, I found that
if one word would save my life, or transport me to my own fireside, I
could not utter it. I was also rooted to the earth, as if by magic;
and although instant tergiversation and flight had my most hearty
concurrence, I could not move a limb, nor even raise my eyes off
the sepulchral-looking object which lay before me. I now felt the
perspiration fall from my face in torrents, and the strokes of my heart
fell audibly on my ear. I even attempted to say, “God preserve me!” but
my tongue was dumb and powerless, and could not move. My eye was still
upon the coffin, when I perceived that, from being motionless, it
instantly began to swing,--first in a lateral, then in a longitudinal
direction, although it was perfectly evident that no human hand was
nearer it than my own. At length I raised my eyes off it, for my
vision was strained to an aching intensity, which I thought must have
occasioned my eye-strings to crack. I looked instinctively about me for
assistance--but all was dismal, silent, and solitary: even the moon had
disappeared among a few clouds that I had not noticed in the sky.
As I stood in this state of indescribable horror, I saw the light
gradually fade away from the tops of the mountains, giving the scene
around me a dim and spectral ghastliness, which, to those who were never
in such a situation, is altogether inconceivable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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