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The Bride of Fort Edward by Bacon, Delia, 1811-1859
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A word from our supporters: File extension MDL | _Mor_. Andre! Maitland! Colonel Hill! Good Heavens! Where the devil are they all? Maitland! _Mor_. For the love of Heaven,--come here. _Mail_. Nay.--but what is it? _Mor_. For God's sake, come, * * * * *DIALOGUE II.SCENE. _A little glen, darkly shaded with pines. A fountain issuing from one side, and falling with a curious murmur into the basin below_. _Mor_. This is the place!--Well, if hallucinations like this can visit mortal eyes, I'll ne'er trust mine again. 'Tis the spot, I'm sure of it,--the place, too, that Andre was raving about just now.--The fairies' drawing-room,--palace rather,--look at these graceful shafts, Maitland,--and fairies' work, it must have been in good earnest. _Mait_. If it's to admire this clump of pine trees you have brought me hither, allow me to say you might have spared yourself that trouble. I have seen the place already, as often as I care to. _Mor_. Come this way a little,--yes, it was just above there that I stood,--it must have been. _Mait_. If you would give me some little inkling of what you are talking about, Lieutenant Mortimer, I should be more likely to help you, if it's help you need. _Mor_. I do not ask you to believe me, but,--as I was springing on my horse just now above there, the gurgling of this spring caught my ear, and looking down suddenly--upon my word, Captain Maitland, I am ashamed to describe what cannot but seem to you such an improbable piece of fancy-work; and yet, true it seemed, as that I see you now. I was looking down, as I said, when suddenly, among those low evergreens, the brilliant hue of a silken mantle caught my eye, and then a woman's brow gleamed up upon me. Yes, there in that dark cradle, calmly sleeping, all flashing with gold and jewels, like some bright vision of olden time, methought there lay--a lady,--a girl, young and lovely as a dream;--the white plume in her bonnet soiled and broken, and the long bright hair streaming heavily on her mantle,--and yet with all its loveliness, such a face of utter sorrow saw I never. I _saw_ her, I saw her, as I see you now,--the proud young form with such a depth of grace, in its strange repose, and--where are you going?--what are you doing, Maitland? _Mait_. Helen Grey!-- _Mor_. You are right. I did not mark that break--yes--there she lies. Said I right, Maitland? _Mait_. Helen Grey!-- _Mor_. Maitland! Heavens!--what a world of anguish that tone reveals!--Why do you stand gazing on that lovely sleeper thus? _Mait_. Bring water. There's a cup at yonder spring. Here has been treachery! Devils and fiends have been working here against me. We must unclasp this mantle. The treasure of the earth lies here.--Now doth mine arm enfold it once, at last. 'Tis sweet, Helen, mine own _true_ love; 'tis sweet, even thus. _Mor_. This letter,--see--from those loosened folds it just now dropped. This might throw some light, perchance-- _Mait_. Let it be. There's light enough. I want no more. Water,--more water,--do you see? _Mor_. Maitland,--this is vain. Mark this dark spot upon her girdle-- |