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
It now, with much alarm, occurred to her, that this might be the house
to which she had been directed from the terrible hut. She fearfully
enquired whether they had a spare bed? and, upon receiving an answer in
the affirmative, with the history of their son's absence, not a doubt
remained that she had sought refuge with the friends, perhaps the
accomplices, of the very persons from whom she was escaping; and who,
should they, through vengeful apprehension, pursue her, would probably
begin their search at this spot.
Affrighted at the idea, yet not daring abruptly to abscond, she forced
herself to sit still while they breakfasted; though unable to converse,
and turning with disgust from the sight of food.
The old man and woman, meanwhile, intent solely upon their meal, which,
now too hot for their mouths, now too cold for their taste, now too hard
for their teeth, occupied all their discourse; heeded not her
uneasiness, and, when she arose and took leave, saw her departure with
as little remark as they had seen her entrance.
With a complication of fears she now went forth again; to seek,--not an
asylum in the Forest, the beautiful Forest!--but the road by which she
might quit it with the greatest expedition. Where, now, was the
enchantment of its prospects? Where, the witchery of its scenery? All
was lost to her for pleasure, all was thrown away upon her as enjoyment;
she saw nothing but her danger, she could make no observation but how to
escape what it menaced.
She flew, therefore, from the vicinity of the hut, though with a
celerity better adapted to her wishes than to her powers; for, in less
than half an hour, she was compelled, from utterly exhausted strength,
to seat herself upon the turf.
Not yet was she risen, and scarcely was she rested, when she was
startled by a whistling in the wood, which was presently followed by the
sound of two youthful male voices, in merry converse.
To escape notice, she, at first, thought it safest to sit still; but the
nearer and nearer approach of feet, made her reflect, that to be
surprised, in so unfrequented a spot, at so early an hour in the
morning, might be yet more unfavourable to opinion, than being discerned
to pace her lonely way, with the quick steps of busy haste or timid
caution. She moved, therefore, on; carefully taking a contrary direction
to that whence the voices issued.
She soon found herself bewildered in a thicket, where she could trace
no path, and whence she could see no opening. She was felicitating
herself, however, that she had out-run the sounds by which she had been
affrighted; when she first heard, and next perceived, an immense dog,
who, after beating about the bushes at some distance, suddenly made a
point at her, and sprang forward.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account