The Wizard's Son, Vol. 3 (of 3)Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Wizard's Son, Vol. 3 (of 3)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Great Britain -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Supernatural -- Fiction
But to tell the miseries of their search after a way of escape would
demand more space than their historian can afford. They groped along the
wall, thinking now that they saw a glimmer in one direction, now in
another, and constantly brought up with a new shock against the opaque
resistance round them, a new corner, or perhaps only that from which
they started; under their feet unequal heaps of damp soil upon which
they stumbled, and broken stones over which Oona, with childlike sobs of
which she was unconscious, caught her dress, falling more than once as
they laboured along. In this way they moved round and round their
prison, a long pilgrimage. At length, when they were almost in despair,
saying nothing to each other, only keeping close that the touch of each
to each might be a moral support, they found themselves in what seemed a
narrow passage, walls on each side, and something like an arrowslit over
their heads, the light from which showed them where they were, and was
as an angel of consolation to the two wounded and suffering creatures,
stumbling along with new hope. But when they had reached the end of this
narrow passage, Walter, going first, fell for a distance of two or three
feet into the lower level of another underground chamber like that which
he had left, jarring his already strained and racked frame, and only by
an immense effort hindered Oona from falling after him. The force of the
shock, and instant recovery by which he kept her back and helped her to
descend with precaution, brought heavy drops of exhaustion and pain to
his forehead. And when they discovered that they were nothing the better
for their struggles, and that the place which they had reached at such a
cost, though lighter, was without any outlet whatever except that by
which they had come, their discouragement was so great that Walter had
hard ado not to join in the tears which Oona, altogether prostrated by
the disappointment, shed on his shoulder.
"We must not give in," he tried to say. "Here there is a little light at
least. Oona, my darling, do not break down, or I shall break down too."
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