Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 11
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 11
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
The night was far advanced before Jenny could close her eyes; and when
at last she did sink into the arms of the "leaden god," it was only to
dream of having lost her way, along with Sandy Crawford, in some wide
and wildering desert which she had never seen before. At first the
scene seemed solitary, shaded with lofty yews, and tangled with
trailing shrubs; dark clouds spread a gloom over it; mists rested on
the top of every rock; and the night-dews hung heavily from every
branch and every blade of grass. Then the prospect appeared to
brighten: the landscape assumed a variety of charms; every hour
disclosed some new beauty, or opened up some glowing vista which she
had not before seen. The sun gradually dissipated the clouds which
hitherto had concealed him, and, bursting through, dried up the
superfluous moisture from the earth; the air became pure, and the day
delightfully warm; and, though as yet she had discovered no road by
which she could return, she did not feel greatly perplexed. But the
pleasing prospect was soon overcast: clouds appeared to gather round
them; anon she was separated from her companion by rocks and
unfathomable gulfs, the nature and extent of which she could not
distinctly see. At times she fancied he was lost, and felt inclined to
weep at the thought that she should never see him more; then she
obtained a glimpse of him, as if he still waited for her, and then her
heart panted to come up with him; then he disappeared, and she knew
not which way to turn. At last she thought Betsy Braikens came up to
her, and offered to conduct her to where he was; but at that moment
the sky grew dark, and the storm raged so terribly, that she could not
stir a step to follow her. It soon ceased, however; the day again
cleared; she seemed to see him advancing to meet her, with a smile of
welcome upon his countenance; and, just as he was about to throw his
arms around her waist, she started aside to avoid his embrace, struck
her arm upon the post of the bed, and the pain which the circumstance
occasioned, aided by an importunate knocking at the door, awakened
her. On being thus made aware that some one wanted admittance, she
started up, threw on a part of her clothes, snatched up the poker,
broke the _gathering-coal_, and stirred the fire, which instantly
burst forth in a blaze; and then she hastened to open the door.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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