But it was not to lament over my own griefs that I commenced my story.
Let the dust of oblivion cover them; I would not pain another by the
recital. There are sorrows--short ages of agony--into the dark origin of
which none would dare to pry: one heart alone feels, hides, and
nourishes them for ever!
Night now came on, heavy and dark; not a star twinkled above me; I
seemed to have left the habitations of men. In whatever direction I
turned not a light was visible; all fellowship with my kind had
vanished. No sound broke the unvarying stillness but the heavy plunge of
my horse's feet and the hollow moan of the sea. Gradually I began to
rouse from my stupor: awaking, as from a dream, my senses grew rapidly
conscious of the perils by which I was surrounded. I knew not but some
hideous gulf awaited me, or the yawning sea, towards which I fancied my
course tended, was destined to terminate this adventure. It was chiefly,
however, a feeling of loneliness, a dread, unaccountable in its nature,
that seemed to haunt me. There was nothing so very uncommon or
marvellous in my situation; yet the horror I endured is unutterable.
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