Where England sets her feet: a romanceCapes, Bernard
History
Where England sets her feet: a romance
Capes, Bernard
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
It was March, 1585, and but a few weeks remained to Brion before
starting on the great adventure. All his and Clerivault’s preparations
were made, and they only awaited the signal to join the fleet at
Plymouth, and launch upon whatever destiny the unknown might have in
store for them. Some anxiety may have been his: misgivings, none. He
was now twenty-six--the age of fully matured strength and reason and
the fearless confidence that goes with both--and ripe manhood in him
peremptorily demanded its employment and enlargement in scenes of
vigorous action. His sole concern lay in thus temporarily abandoning
his Uncle to the possible perils of an agitated time; but, as to that,
having confessed his fears to Raleigh, he had found some reassurance
in his friend’s promise to have a watch kept on the district, and any
sinister symptoms appearing therein at once reported to him, when they
should be drastically dealt with. That undertaking, and the confidence
he felt in the stalwart fidelity of the household remaining, had to be
his sufficient guarantees in the question of the untoward coming to
threaten.
He would have liked, from that one point of view, to leave Clerivault
behind; only his pledge was given. Moreover, to insist, would have
wounded that excellent’s feelings beyond cure. Clerivault, while still
retaining his grateful attachment to, and sorrowful belief in, his old
master, had yet come to regard as the crowning expression of his
allegiance his devotion to the younger trust committed to him. He was
dedicated body and soul to the service of the nephew, and to be
separated from him, or considered inessential to his welfare in any
way, would have killed his very heart. Wherefore the outrage was not
even to be considered; and Nol porter must take his place in
personally attending on the recluse--a task for which at least that
great creature’s physical strength fitted him, inasmuch as his Honour,
the wreck of a great man himself, was often in need, owing to his
enfeebled capacities and shattered constitution, of the support and
assistance which only strong arms could afford him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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