X

Ovingdean Grange by W. Harrison Ainsworth

“A rare plan, i’ faith!” Colonel Maunsel exclaimed. “Thou hast a ready wit, John. About it at once, and success attend thee!”

John then departed on his errand, and Colonel Maunsel once more betook himself to his son’s chamber.

Clavering was still buried in profound sleep, and while gazing on the young man’s pale and toil-worn features, and thinking how necessary rest was to him the colonel had scarcely the heart to deprive him of it. So he sat down by the couch.

How many anxious thoughts passed through the fond father’s breast as he gazed upon his sleeping boy. Clavering was the only being upon whom his affections were centred. To lose him again as soon as found would be fearful indeed. So terrified was the kind-hearted gentleman by the thought of such a disaster, that he knelt down and prayed Heaven to avert it.

Much comforted, he arose and resumed his seat by the bedside. Presently the sleeper’s lips moved, as if he were essaying to speak, and his sire, bending towards him, heard him distinctly pronounce the name of Dulcia. Slight as was the circumstance, it confirmed a suspicion which the old Cavalier had begun of late to entertain, that a mutual attachment subsisted between the young folk; and the certitude of the fact was by no means agreeable to him. Extremely partial to Dulcia, entertaining, moreover, a sincere respect and esteem for her worthy father, Colonel Maunsel was yet a very proud man, and never contemplating such a union for his son as might here take place, would infallibly have refused to sanction it.

However, this was not a moment wherein to trouble himself with so light a matter—light, at all events, he deemed it in comparison with the serious considerations before him—so he dismissed the subject from his mind. Indeed, he had little time for reflection. The hour had advanced. Ere long the household would be astir, and it was needful to awaken Clavering, in pursuance of his plan.

The heavy chains of slumber in which the young man was bound did not yield to the colonel’s first attempt to break them; neither, on opening his eyes, did Clavering appear to be conscious where he was, nor who was near him. Calling out fiercely that he would never yield with life to a rascally Roundhead, he commanded his father to take his hands from off him; but immediately perceiving his error, he became silent, while the colonel in a few words explained his intentions.

On this Clavering arose, and, attiring himself with his sire’s aid, accompanied the latter to his chamber.

Micklegift and Dulcia

II

WHAT PASSED BETWEEN THE INDEPENDENT MINISTER AND DULCIA IN THE CHURCHYARD

IT was now peep of day. The summit of the eastern downs glistened in the early sunbeams, though the nearer slopes still remained grey and sombre. Thinking that the fresh morning air would revive him, Colonel Maunsel drew aside the window curtains, and throwing open the casement, looked forth upon the garden. Animate nature was just beginning to feel the quickening influence of the God of Day. The garrulous occupants of the higher trees made the welkin ring with their cawing as they flew past in quest of their morning meal; lesser birds twittered amongst the boughs; the mavis burst from the holm-tree to dispute the first worm upon the grass-plot with the intrusive starling; pigeons were circling around the house, or alighting on the roof; lowings of oxen and other noises resounded from the farm-yard; and the tinkling of the sheep-bell was heard on the adjacent down, where might be seen the fleecy company, just released from the fold, in charge of the shepherd, and looking as grey as the turf on which they browsed.

At such an hour, and on a spot which ought to have been sacred from intrusion, the presence of an enemy was as unexpected as unwelcome. Yet as the colonel’s eye wandered over the garden, now resting upon one object, now on another, he fancied he saw a dark figure pass quickly by an arched opening in an avenue of clipped yew-trees. The noise of stealthy footsteps at the same moment reached his ear, convincing him that he was not deceived. Hastily withdrawing from the window, he took up a position enabling him to command this portion of the garden, while it did not expose him to observation. As he thus watched, a head was protruded from the end of the alley nearest the house, but it was so suddenly withdrawn that he could not tell to whom it belonged.

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144

curiosity: