|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 85
The worthy man had scarcely concluded his reflections when a young maiden
of sixteen, wearing a very wide-brimmed straw hat, her white skirts
dripping with rain and her little bare feet covered with sand, advanced
to the doorstep, and said--
"The Lord bless you!"
"Amen," answered Christian solemnly.
This young girl was of the purest Scandinavian type, with cheeks of rose
pink upon a face of pure whiteness, and long waving tresses, so fair and
so silky that the finest wheat straw would hardly bear comparison with
it. Her figure was tall and slender, and her blue eyes beamed with
inexpressible sweetness.
Ma�tre Bernard stood a few moments in rapt admiration, and the woodman,
kindly addressing the young girl, said--
"I am glad to see you, Fuldrade. Irmengarde is still asleep. What a storm
it is! Is it coming to an end yet?"
"Yes, the wind is driving it down to the plain. It will be over before
daylight."
Then, without looking at Ma�tre Bernard, she went to sit before the old
woman, who now seemed to revive.
"Fuldrade," she murmured, "is the great tower yet standing?"
"Yes."
The aged woman bowed her head, and her lips moved.
After the last thunderclaps the rain fell in torrents. All down the
valley was heard an incessant loud beating of falling sheets of rain,
and the rushing of the swollen stream, then, at intervals, after a brief
cessation of rain, again the heavier dashing of repeated and more violent
showers.
Between the heavy showers the tinkling which Uncle Bernard had
distinguished in the distance when he awoke gradually became more
distinct, and at last arrived under the window of the hut, and almost
immediately five long-horned head of beautiful cows, spotted equally with
white and black, appeared at the door.
"Why! here's Waldine!" cried Christian, laughing; "she is looking for
you, Fuldrade."
The gentle creature calmly and quietly came straight in, and seemed to
examine old Irmengarde.
"Go away!" cried Fuldrade; "go along with the others!"
And the obedient heifer turned back to the cabin door.
But the falling floods seemed to give her matter for reflection, for she
stood quietly there, contemplating the deluge, and slowly swinging her
beautiful head, lowing in a deep, subdued tone.
The fresh air was now penetrating the hut and bringing with it the sweet
perfumes of honeysuckle and wild roses, excited by the freshening rain.
All the birds in the woods--redbreasts, thrushes, and blackbirds--formed
a concert under the trees; the air was filled with the little love-tales
of the happy birds and the fluttering of their eager wings.
Then Ma�tre Bernard, recovering from his reverie, took a few paces
outside, raised his eyes, and contemplated the white and fleecy clouds
hastily crossing the still troubled sky. On the hill opposite he could
see the whole herd of cattle, all lying sheltered beneath the overhanging
rocks, some lazily extended, their knees bent beneath them, with sleepy
eyes; others, with neck outstretched, lowing solemnly. A few young
animals were gazing at the hanging festoons of honeysuckle, and seemed
to enjoy the balmy air that wafted from them.
All these diverse forms and attitudes stood clearly out upon the reddish
background of the rock; and the immense expanded vault of the cavern,
with its setting of oak and pine whose twisted roots appeared where they
had pierced through the rock, gave a majestic air of grandeur to the
spectacle.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|