The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 4 of 5)Burney, Fanny
History
The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 4 of 5)
Burney, Fanny
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Refugees -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Refugees -- Fiction; War stories
Here, far removed from the 'busy hum of man,' from all public roads; not
even a beaten path within view, not a sheep-walk, nor a hamlet, nor a
cottage to be discerned; nor a single domestic animal to announce the
vicinity of mortal habitation; here, she began to hope that she had
parried danger, escaped detection, and reached a spot so secluded, that
all probability of pursuit was at an end.
With this flattering idea the freedom of her respiration returned: they
will go on, she thought, from stage to stage, from mile-stone to
mile-stone; they will never imagine I should dare thus to turn aside
from the public way; or, should any unfortunate circumstance lead them
to such a surmise, how many chances, how many thousand chances are in my
favour, that they may not fix upon exactly the same direction, as that
to which accident, alone, has been my guide into the mazes of this
intricate forest!
This belief sufficed to attract back to her willing welcome, that
invincible foe to helpless despondency, Hope; whose magic elasticity
waits not for reason, consults not with probability; weighs not
contending arguments for settling its expectations, or regulating its
desires; but, airy, blyth, and bright, bounds over every obstacle that
it cannot conquer.
To find some humble dwelling, by travelling on still further from the
towns in which she had been seen, was her immediate project; but
prudence forbade her seeking the asylum with Dame Fairfield which she
had pleased herself with thinking secured, lest her arrival should be
preceded by an accusing, or followed by a dangerous report from her
hostess of Salisbury. She determined, therefore, to hide herself under
some obscure roof, where she might be utterly unknown; and there to
abide, till the fury of the storm by which she feared to be overtaken,
should be passed.
No sooner were her spirits, in some degree, calmed, than, with the happy
promptitude of youth to set aside evil, all personal fatigue was
insensibly forgotten; her eyes began to recover their functions; and the
moment that she cast them around with abated anxiety, she was so
irresistibly struck with the prospect, and invigorated by the purity of
the ambient air, which exhaled odoriferous salubrity, that, rising fresh
as from the balmy restoration of undisturbed repose, she mounted a
hillock to take a general survey of the spot, and thought all paradise
was opened to her view.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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