My heart is bursting in this shadowy place! Let us seek
the light that is yonder; it seems happy like me!'
They walked forward; and as they went, she told him again of the sorrows
of her past day; of her lonely and despairing progress from his tent to
the solitary house where he had found her in the night, and where she
had resigned herself from the first to meet a death that had little
horror for her then. There was no thought of reproach, no utterance of
complaint, in this renewal of her melancholy narration. It was solely
that she might luxuriate afresh in those delighting expressions of
repentance and devotion, which she knew that it would call forth from
the lips of Hermanric, that she now thought of addressing him once more
with the tale of her grief.
As they still went onward; as she listened to the rude fervent eloquence
of the language of the Goth; as she looked on the deep repose of the
landscape, and the soft transparency of the night sky; her mind, ever
elastic under the shock of the most violent emotions, ever ready to
regain its wonted healthfulness and hope--now recovered its old tone,
and re-assumed its accustomed balance.
Pages:
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436