Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams - or, The Earle's Victims: with an Account of the Terrible End of the Proud Earl De Montford, the Lamenta by Tobias Aconite
page 70 of 74 (94%)
page 70 of 74 (94%)
|
Regardless of the wintry storm, the murderer spurred on the noble animal he rode; he had no purpose in the flight, he had arranged no plan of escape; unused to act for himself, his movements were all uncertainty: now he reined in his horse, and listened as if for pursuers, but none came: now fancying he heard the mocking laugh he had so often heard, he dashed forward, as if the furies were behind him; the storm meanwhile increased in its violence, he felt it not; the warfare of the elements was calmness to the tumult of his heart; he looked up to the heavens, but there on the edge of every lurid cloud, he saw it, he saw them; not one but hundreds: maidens with stony blue eyes, all glaring upon him; he looked upon the earth, a gibbering madman was running by his side, howling and hooting in the wind; now so near as almost to touch him: now hundreds of yards away, but always the same; behind him with his ghastly mangled head, came the form of his last victim, forward! forward! while the crashing thunder pealed above his head; he shook his impious hand against the sky, and still darted onward, till the horse stopped, snorting on the beach; and there as the great sea, rolled in foaming and turgid, there, he saw it plain in yon glare of livid lightning, on the crest of every curling wave, a dark haired lady lay, glaring at him with eyes that looked like coals of fire; a monster wave came rolling in, and the frightened horse turned, and seizing the bit between his teeth sped homeward, but still he saw them in the clouds behind, before, beckoning to him, calling to him, in the voice of the great wind; on, on, towards the castle gates, he looked up to the battlements; they were there, on every turret's top, on every pointed arch, from every window, visible to him, as though it had been bright daylight he saw them. The horse unable to check his momentum dashed against the castle gates, and falling over crushed him in its fall; and there on the very spot where one of his victims had lain in the sleep of death, there lay the mangled and now |
|