sound of some solitary deer.

As Clarence's eye roved admiringly over the scene before him, it dwelt
at last upon a small building situated on the wildest part of the
opposite bank; it was entirely overgrown with ivy, and the outline
only remained to show the Gothic antiquity of the architecture. It
was a single square tower, built none knew when or wherefore, and,
consequently, the spot of many vagrant guesses and wild legends among
the surrounding gossips. On approaching yet nearer, he perceived,
alone and seated on a little mound beside the tower, the object of his
search.

Mordaunt was gazing with vacant yet earnest eye upon the waters
beneath; and so intent was either his mood or look that he was unaware
of Clarence's approach. Tears fast and large were rolling from those
haughty eyes, which men who shrank from their indifferent glance
little deemed were capable of such weak and feminine emotion. Far,
far through the aching void of time were the thoughts of the reft and
solitary mourner; they were dwelling, in all the vivid and keen
intensity of grief which dies not, upon the day when, about that hour
and on that spot, he sat with Isabel's young cheek upon his bosom, and
listened to a voice now only heard in dreams. He recalled the moment
when the fatal letter, charged with change and poverty, was given to
him, and the pang which had rent his heart as he looked around upon a
scene over which spring had just then breathed, and which he was about
to leave to a fresh summer and a new lord; and then that deep, fond,
half-fearful gaze with which Isabel had met his eye, and the feeling,
proud even in its melancholy, with which he had drawn towards his
breast all that earth had left to him, and thanked God in his heart of
hearts that she was spared.