CHAPTER XII.
THE CASTLE.
The next morning came a cart from the castle to fetch his box; and
after breakfast he set out for his new abode.
He took the path by the river-side. The morning was glorious. The
sun and the river and the birds were jubilant, and the wind gave
life to everything. It rippled the stream, and fluttered the long
webs bleaching in the sun: they rose and fell like white waves on
the bright green lake; and women, homely Nereids of the grassy sea,
were besprinkling them with spray. There were dull sounds of wooden
machinery near, but they made no discord with the sweetness of the
hour, speaking only of activity, not labour. From the long
bleaching meadows by the river-side rose the wooded base of the
castle. Donal's bosom swelled with delight; then came a sting: was
he already forgetting his inextinguishable grief? "But," he answered
himself, "God is more to me than any woman! When he puts joy in my
heart, shall I not be glad? When he calls my name shall I not
answer?"
He stepped out joyfully, and was soon climbing the hill. He was
again admitted by the old butler.
"I will show you at once," he said, "how to go and come at your own
will."
He led him through doors and along passages to a postern opening on
a little walled garden at the east end of the castle.
"This door," he said, "is, you observe, at the foot of Baliol's
tower, and in that tower is your room; I will show it you.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99