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The
agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her
gaze. He pointed to where the lights still burned in
Anna’s windows. ” She
patted his arm and wiped her tears away. After that night she made it a habit. Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; but he knew that
Howard Spurlock would never write it. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves
through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen
craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from
afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the
bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from
the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some
stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned
through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character,
give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in
meditation at such a time and in such a place. You might trust me
with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 01-07-2024 07:35:53