The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 04, No. 23, September, 1859 by Various
page 37 of 285 (12%)
page 37 of 285 (12%)
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"Four mild!" and such miles! The only road, a faint track in the grass,
now undiscernible in the gathering gloom, now on the slope of steep hills marked by deep gullies worn by the impetuous autumn rains, and down which the poor old "shay" jerked along in a series of bumps and jolts threatening to demolish at once that patriarchal vehicle and the bones of its occupants. At last, however, from the top of one of these declivities, the brilliant, flashing light of the long-watched-for Pharos greeted Mysie's despairing eyes, and woke new hopes of warmth, rest, and shelter. But never did bewildering _ignisfatuus_ retire more persistently from the pursuit of unwary traveller than did that Light-house from the occupants of that creaking "shay"; and it was not till total darkness had settled upon the earth that they reached its door, and discovered, by the lamplight streaming out, that Caleb stood in the entrance, awaiting their arrival. As the chaise stopped, he came forward and lifted the stiff and weary forms of "the woman and child" to the ground, and delivered them to the guidance of the hostess. The first aspect of affairs was somewhat discouraging,--the parlor into which they were ushered being without fire and but dimly lighted, the bedroom not yet prepared for toilet purposes, and the hostess, as she averred, entirely unprepared for company. Left alone in the dreary parlor, Caleb subsided into moody silence, and Mysie into tears, upon which the Baron followed suit, and produced such a ludicrous state of affairs, that the sobs which had evoked his changed to an irrepressible laugh, in which all parties soon joined. This |
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