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Source global Wall Street Journal     time 2022-12-17 15:06:24
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Having sent the murderers to Exeter gaol to be tried for their lives at the assizes, which were to commence in a day or two, and made whatever arrangements the duties of the service required, Fitz-Ullin set out for Lodore, whither, according to instructions received from Mr. Jackson, he gave orders to have the body of Henry conveyed. So contradictory and unsearchable are often the movements of the human heart, that, melancholy as were these duties, it is certain that our hero performed them with an activity and energy of spirit, to which he had long been a stranger. Whether it was, that tired of his self-imposed banishment, he was glad of even this mournful excuse, to renew the affectionate intercourse of early life with a family so long and so justly[334] regarded, by offering his services on the present occasion, and giving his necessary assistance in prosecuting the murderers to conviction; or, whether any other, and more mysterious springs of thought and feeling were set in motion, it would be difficult to determine.

The thus unenviably mounted rider had paused, as has been already noticed, in the centre of the cave, when our heroine and her conductor presented themselves at its mouth. On their entering, a loud coarse laugh echoed round the vault, which through all its hoarseness[205] and discordance, had just enough of the tones of a female voice, to insult every association on the subject of woman’s loveliness. Our equestrian, towards whom we fear we must in future use a feminine pronoun, kicked the creature on which she was mounted, with both the heels of her iron-shod wooden shoes. This appeared to be a signal well understood between the parties; for the wretched animal immediately commenced its operations by lifting one of its heavy hinder feet, placing it on the shaggy fetlock of one of the fore ones, and stumbling.

If your business regards me, name it now, and here!” said Edmund. The stranger fixed his eyes on those of our hero, while, beneath his cloak, he grasped something which Edmund almost held out his hand to receive, so sure did he feel for the moment that it must be a packet of papers containing the information[337] he so much desired to obtain. The stranger’s hand appeared to hesitate. The fellow spoke again, perhaps to gain time. The daughter of Lord L?,” he said slowly, his eyes still fixed on Edmund, must never be the wife of ?,” he paused, drew a step nearer, then recommenced, hereafter you shall know, of whom; at this crisis there might be danger in the discovery.”

… The lovely light of Innisfail,

He, for his part, could not long deceive himself as to the nature of his own sentiments; but he thought there was no harm in cherishing them, while he could flatter himself that because he was not declaring he was concealing them. Or, had he thought otherwise, the temptation was, perhaps, too strong to be resisted.


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