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
This firm resolution--the more inflexible, perhaps from the lack of
any temptation, in that masculine community, to reconsider it--had
lasted since the closing of that brief romance had left him, as he
thought, with a broken heart. It all seemed very far away now; such
episodes in the full years of youth fade quickly into the background
of dim memories. He could afford, perhaps, to smile at it, and at the
tragic intensity of the grief which had predicted for him an eternity
of unforgetting anguish. Yet, though that dear apparition might never
materialise for him again, the love it had engendered in his soul
still made itself a sanctuary there, and called to be revered and
honoured for the dream’s sake. It had no more to build on. In all
these years the family had never returned to the Chase, nor, hugging
that poignant secret to his heart, could he venture to seek
information as to its possible plans and movements. She was gone from
him, it seemed, never to return; and gone to what fate? For long he
had suffered intolerable torment, raging over her peril and his own
helplessness. But the impotence of his agony had proved its cure. He
had learned first despair from it and then resignation. At least they
had had those lovely moments together which had been all their own. No
power on earth could rob him of that possession, or spoil its
sweetness for him so long as he himself kept it spotless. And so he
had preserved his dream and become a knight of dreams.
That steadfast sentiment had been one factor in the forming of the
boy’s character, as his relations with his Uncle had proved another.
It is melancholy to record that the ex-Judge had at this date
degenerated into something little removed from an habitual sot. His
vice had steadily grown upon him under his nephew’s eyes, until, for
all his inexperience and reluctance to believe, Brion had been forced
into a recognition of the truth. He took it passionlessly, gravely,
and set about to adapt his conduct to the newly-realised conditions.
There could be no question of coercive or of remonstrant measures with
a spirit of that force and authority; instead, he devoted himself to
hedging about an evil which he could not remove, and so hiding its
worst manifestations from the world. The drunkard watched, with a
drunkard’s cunning, the nature of these means so privily taken to
safeguard his reputation, and was leeringly tickled or gloomily
affected by them according to his mood. But they had this inevitable
effect upon him, that he took to leaning more and more upon his
nephew’s resourcefulness and quiet strength of will, until in the end
it ensued that Brion became virtual master of the house, ordering its
affairs and attending to its accounts. And that was only to anticipate
events indefinitely, for he had long been made and legally attested
sole heir to all the little property, including house and messuage,
which his Uncle still possessed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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