The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 5 of 5)Burney, Fanny
History
The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 5 of 5)
Burney, Fanny
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Refugees -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Refugees -- Fiction; War stories
What an aggravation to the sufferings of Harleigh, to learn that she was
thus allied, at the moment that he knew her to be another's! for however
the violence of his admiration had conquered every obstacle, he had
always thought, with reluctance and concern, of the supposed obscurity
of her family and connections.
Juliet pleaded in vain. A harsh refusal was followed by the grossest
menace, if she hesitated to accompany him at once.
The pilot, repeating his call, now mounted the stairs; and Harleigh felt
compelled to return to his room; but, looking back in re-entering it, he
saw Juliet forced into the passage; her face not merely pale, but
ghastly; her eyes nearly starting from her head.
To rescue, to protect her, Harleigh now thought was all that could
render life desirable; but, while adoring her almost to madness, he
respected her situation and her fame, and re-passed into his chamber,
unseen by the foreigner.
Yet he could not forbear placing himself so that he might catch a glance
of her as she went by; he held the door, therefore, in his hand, as if,
accidentally, at that moment, opening it. She did not turn her head, but
assumed an air of resignation, and walked straight on; yet though she
did not meet his eye, she evidently felt it; a pale pink suffusion shot
across her cheeks; taking place of the death-like hue they had exhibited
as she quitted her room; but which, fading away almost in the same
moment, left her again a seeming spectre.
A nervous dimness took from Harleigh even the faculty of observing the
foreigner. She loves me! was his thought; she surely loves me! And the
idea which, not many minutes sooner, would have chaced from his mind
every feeling but of felicity, now rent his heart with torture, from
painting their mutual unhappiness. It was not a sigh that he stifled,
nor a sigh that escaped him; but a groan, a piercing groan, which broke
from his sorrows, as he heard her tottering step reach the stairs, while
internally he uttered, She is gone from me for ever!
When he thought she would no longer be in sight, he followed to the
first landing-place; to catch, once more, even the most distant sound of
her feet: but the passage to and fro of waiters, forced him again to
mount to his chamber. There, he hastened to the window, to take a view,
a last view! of her loved form; but thence, shuddering, retreated, at
sight of the chaise and four; destined to whirl her everlastingly away
from him, with a companion so undisguisedly dreaded!--so evidently
abhorred!
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