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Gissing, George, 1857-1903

"Veranilda"


The sun was a flaming furnace; the earth seemed to be overspread
with white fire-ash, which dazed the eyes and choked. But Basil felt
only the fire in his heart and brain. Forgetful of all about him, he
had not ridden more than a few miles, when he missed the road; his
men, ignorant of the country, followed him without hesitation, and
so it happened that, on stopping at one of the few farms on their
way, to ask how far it still was to Arpinum, he learnt that he must
ride back for nearly a couple of hours to regain the track he should
have taken. He broke into frantic rage, cursed the countrymen who
directed him, and as he spurred his beast, cursed it too because of
its stumbling at a stone.
There was now no hope of finishing the journey to-day. His head on
his breast, Basil rode more and more slowly. The sun declined, and
ere long it would be necessary to seek harbourage. But here among
the hills no place of human habitation came in view. Luckily for
themselves some of the horsemen had brought provender. Their lord
had given thought to no such thing. The sun set; the hills cast a
thickening shadow, even Basil began to gaze uneasily ahead.


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