The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Wizard's Son, Vol. 2 (of 3)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Great Britain -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Supernatural -- Fiction
THE WIZARD'S SON
A Novel
BY MRS. OLIPHANT
AUTHOR OF "THE CURATE IN CHARGE," "YOUNG MUSGRAVE," ETC.
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. II.
London
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1884
[_The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved_]
LONDON:
R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,
BREAD STREET HILL.
THE WIZARD'S SON.
CHAPTER I.
When Walter seated himself beside Oona in the boat, and Hamish pushed
off from the beach, there fell upon both these young people a sensation
of quiet and relief for which one of them at least found it very
difficult to account. It had turned out a very still afternoon. The
heavy rains were over, the clouds broken up and dispersing, with a sort
of sullen stillness, like a defeated army making off in dull haste, yet
not without a stand here and there, behind the mountains. The loch was
dark and still, all hushed after the sweeping blasts of rain, but black
with the reflections of gloom from the sky. There was a sense of safety,
of sudden quiet, of escape, in that sensation of pushing off, away from
all passion and agitation upon this still sea of calm. Why Oona, who
feared no one, who had no painful thoughts or associations to flee from,
should have felt this she could not tell. The sense of interest in, and
anxiety for, the young man by her side was altogether different. That
was sympathetic and definable; but the sensation of relief was something
more. She looked at him with a smile and sigh of ease as she gathered
the strings of the rudder into her hands.
"I feel," she said, "as if I were running away, and had got safe out of
reach; though there is nobody pursuing me that I know of," she added,
with a faint laugh of satisfaction.
The wind blew the end of the white wrapper round her throat towards her
companion, and he caught it as she had caught the rudder ropes.
"It is I that am pursued," he said, "and have escaped. I have a feeling
that I am safe here. The kind water, and the daylight, and you--but how
should _you_ feel it? It must have gone from my mind to yours."
"The water does not look so very kind," said Oona, "except that it
separates us from the annoyances that are on land--when there are
annoyances."
She had never known any that were more than the troubles of a child
before.
"There is this that makes it kind. If you were driven beyond bearing, a
plunge down there and all would be over----"
"Lord Erradeen!"
"Oh, I don't mean to try. I have no thought of trying; but look how
peaceful, how deep, all liquid blackness! It might go down to the
mystic centre of the earth for anything one knows."
He leant over a little, looking down into those depths profound which
were so still that the boat seemed to cut through a surface which had
solidity; and in doing this put the boat out of trim, and elicited a
growl from Hamish.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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