She never
looked in his face, never moved in his arms, never petitioned for mercy.
She gave no sign of life or being, saving that she moaned at regular
intervals in piteous accents:--'He has forgotten and abandoned me!' as
if that one simple expression comprised in itself, her acknowledgment of
the uselessness of her life, and her dirge for her expected death.
The Goth's countenance whitened to his very lips. He began to fear that
her faculties had sunk under her trials. He hurried on with her with
trembling steps towards the open country, for he nourished a dreamy,
intuitive hope, that the sight of those woods and fields and mountains
which she had extolled to him, in her morning's entreaty for protection,
might aid in restoring her suspended consciousness, if she now looked on
them.
He ran forward, until he had left the suburbs at least half a mile
behind him, and had reached an eminence, bounded on each side by high
grass banks and clustering woods, and commanding a narrow, yet various
prospect, of the valley ground beneath, and the fertile plains that
extended beyond.
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