English literature -- England -- Lancashire; Legends -- England -- Lancashire
The hard and ice-bound waters were dissolving, and might be heard to
gurgle in their deep recesses; drops began to trickle from the trees,
the bushes to relax their hold, and shake off their icy trammels.
Towards the south-west lay a dense range of clouds, their fleecy tops
telling with what message they were charged. Still the moon cast a
subdued and lingering light over the scene, from which she was shortly
destined to be shut out.
Ralph led the way silently and with great caution through the slippery
ravine. The moonlight flickered through the leafless branches on the
heights above them, their path winding through the shadows by the
stream.
"We must hasten," said her guide, "or we may miss the signal. We shall
soon take leave of the moonlight, and perhaps lose our labour
thereby."
They crept onwards until they saw the dark rocks in the Fairies'
Chapel. The miller pointed to a long withered bough that flung out its
giant arms far over the gulph from a great height. The moon threw down
the shadow quite across to the bank on the other side, marking its
rude outline on the crags.
"The signal," said Ralph; "and by your favour, lady, I must depart. I
have redeemed my pledge."
"Stay, I prithee, but within hearing," said Eleanor. "I like not the
aspect of this place. If I call, hasten instantly to my succour."
The miller promised, but with a secret determination not to risk his
carcase again for all the bright-eyed dames in Christendom.
She listened to his departing footsteps, and her heart seemed to lose
its support. An indescribable feeling crept upon her--a consciousness
that another was present in this solitude. She was evidently under the
control of some invisible agent; the very freedom of her thoughts
oppressed and overruled by a power superior to her own. She strove to
escape this thraldom, but in vain. She threw round an apprehensive
glance, but all was still--the dripping boughs alone breaking the
almost insupportable silence that surrounded her. Suddenly she heard a
sigh, and a rustling at her ear; and she felt an icy chillness
breathing on her. Then a voice, musical but sad, whispered--
"Thou hast rejected my suit. Another holds thy pledge."
"Another! Who art thou?" said the maiden, forgetting her fears in the
first emotion of surprise.
"Thou hast been conscious of my presence in thy dreams!" replied the
mysterious visitor. She felt her terrors dissipated, for the being
whom she loved was the guardian of her safety.
"I have loved thee, maiden," said the voice; "I have hovered round
thee when thou slept, and thou hast answered my every thought.
Wherefore hast thou not obeyed? Why not seal thy compact and our
happiness together?"
"Because it was unhallowed," replied she firmly, though her bosom
trembled like the leaf fluttering from its stem.
"Another has taken thy pledge. Yet is it not too late. Renew the
contract, even with thy blood, and I am thine! Refuse, and thou art
his. If this hour pass, I am lost to thee for ever!"
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