As the watchfire blazed up, its gleam fell
upon masses of honeysuckle and woodbine, on white, mouldering walls
beneath, and dark, waving trees above; while the group of
mountaineers who gathered round its light, with their long beards
and vivid dresses, completed the strange picture.
The clang of sword and spear resounded through the long galleries;
horses neighed among bowers and boudoirs; strange figures hurried
to and fro among the colonnades, shouting in Arabic, English, and
Italian; the fire crackled, the startled bats flapped their heavy
wings, and the growl of distant thunder filled up the pauses in the
rough symphony.
Our dinner was spread on the floor in Lady Hester's favourite
apartment; her deathbed was our sideboard, her furniture our fuel,
her name our conversation. Almost before the meal was ended two of
our party had dropped asleep over their trenchers from fatigue; the
Druses had retired from the haunted precincts to their village; and
W-, L-, and I went out into the garden to smoke our pipes by Lady
Hester's lonely tomb. About midnight we fell asleep upon the
ground, wrapped in our capotes, and dreamed of ladies and tombs and
prophets till the neighing of our horses announced the dawn.
Pages:
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377