The Strange Adventures of Captain Dangerous, Vol. 1: Who was a sailor, a soldier, a merchant, a spy, a slave; among the moors...Sala, George Augustus
General
The Strange Adventures of Captain Dangerous, Vol. 1: Who was a sailor, a soldier, a merchant, a spy, a slave; among the moors...
Sala, George Augustus
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction
I have said that her dress was to me the chief point of notice, and is
that of which I retain the keenest remembrance. Her diamonds, indeed,
had over me that strange fascination which serpents are said to have
over birds; and I would sit with my little mouth all agape, and my eyes
fixed and staring, until they grew dazed, and I was frightened at the
solemn twinkling of those many gems. In my absurd child-way, it was to
my fancy as though the Lady were some great Altar or Herse of State in a
Church, and her Jewels so many Lamps kindled about her, and to be kept
alive for ever. She robed habitually, as I have said, in Black Velvet;
but on Birthnights, when more company than usual came, and there was
play in the great drawing-room, she would wear a sack of sad-coloured
satin; while, which was stranger still, on the thirtieth day of January
in every year, at least so long as I can keep it in mind, she wore her
sable dress; not her ordinary one, but a fuller garment, which had bows
of Crimson Ribbon down the front and at the sleeves, and a great
Crimson Scarf over the right shoulder, so as to come in saltire over her
Heart. And on the day she made this change she wore no Diamonds, but
Rubies in great number, and of great size. On that day, also, we kept an
almost entire fast, and from morning to night I had nothing but a little
cake and a glass of Red wine. From sunrise to sunset the Lady sat in her
cabinet among her Relics; and I was bidden to sit over against her on a
little stool. She would talk much, and, as it seemed to me wildly, in a
language which I could not understand, going towards her relics and
touching them in a strange manner. Then she would say to me, with a
sternness that chilled the marrow in my bones, "Child, Remember the Day:
Remember the Thirtieth of January." And she would often repeat that
word, "Remember," rocking herself to and fro. And more than once she
would say, "Blood for blood." Then Mistress Talmash would enter and
assay to Soothe her, telling her that what was past was past, and could
not be undone. Then she would take out a great Prayer-Book bound in Red
leather, and which had this strange device raised in an embosture of
gold, on either cover, and in a solemn voice read out long passages,
which I afterwards learned were from that service holden on the
anniversary of the martyrdom of King Charles the First. She would go on
to read the Ritual for the King's Touching for the Evil, now expunged
from our Liturgy; and then Mistress Talmash would pray her to read the
joyful prayers for the twenty-ninth of May, the date of the happy
restoration of King Charles the Second. But that she would seldom do,
murmuring, "I dare not, I dare not. Tell not Father Ruddlestone." All
these things were very strange to me; but I grew accustomed to them in
time. And there seems to a solitary child, an immensity of time passing
between his first beginning to remember and his coming to eight years of
age.
[Illustration]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account