CHAPTER XXV
No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array,
But winter, lingering, chills the lap of May;
No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast,
But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest.
--GOLDSMITH.
The roads of Westchester are, at this hour, below the improvements of
the country. Their condition at the time of the tale has already been
alluded to in these pages; and the reader will, therefore, easily
imagine the task assumed by Caesar, when he undertook to guide the
translated chariot of the English prelate through their windings, into
one of the less frequented passes of the Highlands of the Hudson.
While Caesar and his steeds were contending with these difficulties, the
inmates of the carriage were too much engrossed with their own cares to
attend to those who served them. The mind of Sarah had ceased to wander
so wildly as at first; but at every advance that she made towards
reason, she seemed to retire a step from animation; from being excited
and flighty, she was gradually becoming moody and melancholy. There were
moments, indeed, when her anxious companions thought that they could
discern marks of recollection; but the expression of exquisite woe that
accompanied these transient gleams of reason, forced them to the
dreadful alternative of wishing that she might forever be spared the
agony of thought.
Pages:
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461